Where did Dom come from with this video for Menace Beach? Ha. This video is extra fresh and if you have been sleeping on Dom Kennedy and one of the best mixtapes of 2009 (no joke), FUTURE STREET DRUG SOUNDS, your pretty wack … plain and simple. To wake you up from your snooze sesh you can download FUTURE STREET DRUG SOUNDS here. And after that I would advise you to download his other mixtapes BEST AFTER BOBBY and 25th Hour. All of this is in your best interest and your welcome for some good music to set your weekend off right.

Let the list times roll.

15. Let the Right One In (2008)

As you probably already know, I saw this superb Swedish horror-drama earlier on this year and absolutely loved it. Loved it so much, in fact, that I though it should definitely feature on this list. Forget all that angsty Twilight malarkey, this is the vampire film of the last decade. Telling the tale of 12-year old Oskar who’s just moved to a quiet Swedish village, and the been-twelve-for-3-centuries Eli, Tomas Alfredson creates an ambience that few films can rival, the cold air nipping at your through the screen, the crisp crunch of boots on snow wonderfully rendered. Following the central pair – both unbelievable first-time performances, may I add – as Oskar is bullied and Eli is devoid of friendship, it might seem like a twee tween love story. But Let the Right One In is far from it. Some moments, when Eli must feed for example, are not sugar-coated at all, blood gushing onto snow. The scene which gives this film its title, where Oskar makes Eli enter his flat without permission only for her to start bleeding out of every pore, is truly chilling, and the chemistry between the main twosome is delightful. By the end, you probably won’t want to be a vampire, but you will most likely want one as your mate.

14. Oldboy (2003)

A revenge film in the classic mould, Park Chan-Wook’s Oldboy is probably about as unrelenting as a film can be. Min Sik-Choi’s Oh Dae-Su has been locked up for 15 years for no reason, without explanation or motive, and is one day released, to be told that he must find his captor in five days. Cue a one-man army with more drive than a thousand Stallones and more natural charisma than even Steven Seagal (I know, I didn’t think it possible either). As he unravels the mystery of his imprisonment, he does some quite frankly batshit stuff, literally hammering his way through huge groups of gangsters and, infamously, eating a live octupus (which Min actually did for the scene). His tender connection with chef Mido is charming and gentle, but Oh’s acts of violence, though we root for him throughout, are tremendously brutal. The film’s climax, one of the most sinister and harrowing of all time, only adds to the brilliance of this Korean masterpiece, and it’s clear to see that the Far East can still produce some of the best, and most utterly fucked-up, cinema in the world.

13. 25th Hour (2002)

Edward Norton. Spike Lee. Brian Cox. Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Rosario Dawson. With talent like this, 25th Hour should be a modern classic, right? Right indeed. Following Norton’s soon-to-be-incarcerated Monty Brogan on his last day before he gets sent for porridge, Lee’s film has some of his hallmarks – angular camerawork, great evocation of real feeling – and also features a leading man at the height of his powers. Coming off the back of mega-indie-hits Fight Club and American History X, Norton was completely in his prime, and Lee gets the best out of him, Hoffman (in his pre-Oscar winning but equally superb days), Cox and Dawson as the people who love Monty the most, only to watch his life gradually slide toward the shitter. Cox stands out as his embattled, embittered father James, and his monologue over the film’s finale is heart-rendingly honest and believable. Monty’s “fuck you” speech to himself is the movie’s most famous sequence, but Lee (and screenwriter David Benioff) surround it with equally magnificent scenes, making 25th Hour unforgettable for its honesty, pluck and craft.

12. Zoolander (2001)

Some people, I know, will have a fit at this choice, but if you don’t like it, make your own list. I know that Ben Stiller’s 2001 film doesn’t hold a candle to the likes of There’s Something About Mary for many, but for me it’s his finest hour and one of the best comedies of the last decade. The plot is brilliantly ludicrous, as male model Derek Zoolander (Stiller) loses his pride and work to new mega-star Hansel (Owen Wilson) and becomes the obsession of evil designer Mugatu (Will Ferrell, never better). It sounds like a steaming pile, I know, but the sheer idiocy of Zoolander makes it brilliant. From the great central conceit that neither of these two models are exactly oil paintings, to the classic self-wedgie walk-off scene, to some of the most quotable comedy in years (“I was bulimic.” “You can read minds?”), it’s been sadly overlooked. Everyone involved knew this was a completely out-there comedy and they all just have a great time with it, endlessly criticising their own celebrity whilst taking shots at every cliché in the book in the process. And I bet you thought I was too stupid to know what a eugoogly was.

11. Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)

The film that kick-started the career of a director, Guillermo Del Toro’s twisted fairytale remains one of the best fantasy films of recent years, whilst also delivering a chilling commentary on the savagery of the Spanish Civil War. The titular labyrinth, we see, may-or-may-not be imagined by young heroine Ofelia, but features beasties that would haunt any kid’s nightmares for years. The Pale Man, the horrifying creature with eyes in his hands, and Fauno who sets quests for our protagonist, are awfully scary, and this is not a kids’ film by any means. Del Toro’s involvement in The Hobbit was given to him essentially off the back of this picture, and it’s not hard to see why. A mixture of horror, drama, historical epic and fairytale, Pan’s Labyrinth doesn’t skimp on the violence (we see a poor bugger get his face smashed in with a bottle at the merciless hands of Captain Vidal) or story, and the film’s tragic denouement will leave more than just the kids needing a Kleenex.

Tune in on Saturday as the top 10 begins…

Dom Kennedy is a rapper from LA. Leimert Park to be exact. My man J Cash put me onto his music at the end of the summer right before Best After Bobby came out.

I was thoroughly impressed by his 2 mixtapes (25th Hour and Best After Bobby) and his album FutureStreet/DrugSounds.

Check out my favorite Dom Kennedy cuts so far:

Dom is supposed to be dropping a ‘tape this March.

Every time I’m feeling passionate and want a good laugh I take a look at this clip from Spike Lee’s “25th Hour”.  This is one of the best monologues in a movie..EVAAAAA! But I just love how he goes in on everyone no exceptions.  If you live in New York you know this is dead on. You have to be an ig’nant motherf’er to write something like this.  Good work Spike!

Ha

Darkne$$ aka Crunkyard Dawg

Yo, Dom Kennedy is officially in my top 10 MC’s of all time…already and he hasn’t even really started yet. My mouth dropped when I found out 25th Hour was his first official mixtape and why was Future Street Drug Sounds one of the DOPEST lp’s out last year? Dude is RIDICULOUS, something about him kind of reminds me of Ghostface…I think it’s the way he doesn’t force his flow yet never looses his prescence lyrically. Can’t wait for him to drop an official album. Found this video for “Who Rollin Wit Me” which seems like it came from a work released before 25th hour. His production choices are as dope as he is…..he freaks a sample from”Night Fever” by the BeeGees in this one….ridiculous.

check his site and download if you haven’t already

Previously: My Top 48 Movies of the Last Decade – Part I

And it continues…

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The 2000s Hollywood was all about starting over. Reboots, reimaginings, and re-quels, we saw it all. One of the most successful rebirths was that of the old reliable James Bond. With the help of some Bourne-esque gritty realism, Casino Royale took Bond into the post-9/11 world. An important factor in the new Bond era is Daniel Craig. Sure Bond fans were upset when they first heard that a short-haired blonde was taking over. But it turned out that Daniel Craig was perfect as the new era 007. Thrilling action sequences, hot women, absurdly evil villains, along with actually making poker exciting and watchable, makes Casino Royale a great Bond film and one of the best action movies of the decade.

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Scorcese’s first film of the new millennium came out several years too early. In Gangs of New York, a war no one wanted raged, an immigrant problem was rampant, and an election was fast approaching. I was less than impressed when I first saw it, actually. To me it was just an action period piece starring Leonardo DiCaprio (I wasn’t convinced of his leading man stature at the time) and Cameron Diaz (yeah definitely not the best choice for that role). The best part that stood out for me after the first time seeing it and after continuous viewings was of course Daniel Day-Lewis. His fascinating take on Bill the Butcher was a great warm-up to his next movie and the performance of the decade (more on that later). Years later, sometime in 2008, I saw it again and I was blown away. Gangs of New York says so much about America as we know it now. Give it another chance if you don’t believe me. It’s a great movie that hopefully will be appreciated more as time goes on.

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The Paul Greengrass-less Bourne Identity never did the trick for me. Even with the inclusion of the likes of Clive Owen and Chris Cooper, I couldn’t stop from thinking of it as a lifeless action movie. It wasn’t until Greengrass entered the equation with Supremacy that the film series found its own unique edge. Supremacy and Ultimatum utilized the now much imitated shaky handheld camera technique in a lot of the action scenes. I mean can we even imagine what the new Bond and Batman films would look like without the Greengrass-Bourne influence?

And Ultimatum really succeeds where a lot of action sequels stumble. The story builds on Supremacy to deliver a fantastic follow-up (and possible final chapter). It’s definitely one of the smarter action movies I’ve ever seen. The plot moves along just as fast and smoothly as Matt Damon’s solemn Bourne escapes the authorities. It’s rare that a film series improves so dramatically with each new entry, and the send two Bourne movies last decade do just that.

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An ode to the mindless action movie, the Spaced boys’ (Wright, Pegg, and Nick Frost) second feature film tries its damndest to outdo their first (the classic Shaun of the Dead) and they almost succeed in doing so. It’s near genius how Hot Fuzz instantly turns moments from films like Point Break and Bad Boys II into iconic movie moments. And thanks to Wright and company those two movies are now seen in a whole new light. That’s one of the reasons why the film ends up being so great. The movie’s not a parody, but a loving tribute to all those detective action movies. While Shaun was a movie set in the world of the Romero zombie movies, Hot Fuzz is set in the world of Dirty Harry and Lethal Weapon. Special attention needs to be given to Simon Pegg, who plays a different type of character than what he’s accustomed to. He’s no longer the nerdy loser but the hard-edged Harry Callahan type. The film continues to prove that Wright, Pegg, and Frost work at their best when they’re working together, which makes me eager to see what they have in store for us next.

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This is the one of two war films on my list. The reason why is because war movies just don’t affect me like they should. One of the rare exceptions is last year’s The Hurt Locker, which in my mind is the best real war movie since Saving Private Ryan. I try to explain why below.

From my Best of 2009 list:

“This is a very different kind of war movie. Director Kathryn Bigelow will get nominated for Best Director and likely win for constructing some of the tensest sequences ever put on film. Starring Jeremy Renner as a member of an Explosive Ordnance Disposal in Iraq, the film’s best ‘action’ sequences are built around the defusing of IEDs. Renner is a hotshot professional, sometimes throwing caution to the wind as he comes inches and seconds away from being totally obliterated. As he says halfway through the film, taking off his protective bombsuit, “There’s enough bang in there to blow us all to Jesus. If I’m gonna die, I want to die comfortable.” Renner’s character may be cool under pressure next to hundreds of pounds of explosives, but his unwavering calm is tested after he starts seeing ‘the horrors of war’. At points it is like the same old war movie but it does do it better than any other war movie this past year or decade.”

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Perhaps the best action sequence of the decade has to be the cop convoy chase sequence. One of the few sequences in the film entirely shot in IMAX, the sequence is still as visually satisfying now as it was when I first saw it for the first time. Christopher Nolan isn’t the greatest action director, actually there are times when the editing makes it incomprehensible, but somehow it works. That’s the way I see the whole movie actually. There are times where it just doesn’t make sense, like the Joker’s prison escape plot (which is way too unbelievable), but somehow it comes together to make a great film. Other sequels have gone down the same path, going down the bloated convoluted side, but The Dark Knight is that rare exception, where popcorn movie meets masterpiece.

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This is the best movie about the writers’ struggle since Barton Fink. Charlie Kaufman is one of the best Hollywood screenplay writers out there and this is one of the reasons why. Kaufman adds several layers to this film, making Adaptation a bit inscrutable. How much of it is real? How much of it is a put on? Did screenwriter Charlie Kaufman really try to adapt a book about the poaching of rare orchids? Or is it just a satirical take on the generic Hollywood script and nothing else? It could be all of the above, or none.

It does the job attacking the formulaic screenplays in Hollywood, and only in Hollywood, and this movie, would Nicolas Cage play Charlie Kaufman. Here, Cage gives a rare great performance, playing both Kaufman and his fictional twin brother Donald. He’s playing the wide spectrum, from schlubby loser to cocky trash writer. It’s the kind of work that Cage should do more of.

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My favorite Spike Lee movie of the decade quietly sneaks up on you and by the end it knocks you out with an emotional sledgehammer. Ed Norton plays Monty Brogan, a man spending his last day before a seven year prison sentence with his best friends and girlfriend. Sure it’s a nice character drama, with each of Monty’s friends (played by Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Barry Pepper, and Rosario Dawson) having their own personal demons to deal with. Hoffman is exceptionally good as a loser teacher with a crush on one of his students (Anna Paquin in a small but memorable role). Crime drama at parts, it stays alittle formulaic but remains exceptionally done. It’s not until the end that the movie changes speeds and hits you emotionally with Monty’s conversation with his father. It’s a scene that is still with me after all this time and it’ll probably remain with me for years to come.

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Cries of ‘too soon’ wouldn’t stop Hollywood from releasing 9/11 centric films. Two were released in 2006. One was Oliver Stone’s World Trade Center and the other was Paul Greengrass’ United 93. Stone’s take suffered from what a lot of movies on the subject suffered from, it ended up being a disingenuous melodrama. Greengrass’ film about that faithful day is anything but melodramatic. Filmed in the signature documentary style, the film does something brave and refuses to insert politics or bias into the equation. It is powerful filmmaking as it looks and feels like an accurate and respectful look at what really happened on that day. In decades to come we could be seeing more Pearl Harbor’s, fortunately we have Greengrass’ unflinching point of view.

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Joseph Gordon Levitt is a movie star. Yeah, (500) Days of Summer finally proved it this past year but a lot of people already knew it back in 2005 when he starred in Rian Johnston’s debut feature. Brick is an all out film noir detective story set in a high school. Levitt is the lead, hell bent on solving the murder of an ex-girlfriend. The one thing that separates the movie from every other one on this list is the movie’s dialogue, which is brilliant. The script is one of the most finely crafted of the decade. It takes a while to get use to the hardboiled detective lingo but once you catch on it becomes a really memorable experience.

I’ll leave you with a selection of dialogue:

Brendan Frye: Emily said four words I didn’t know. Tell me if they catch. Brick?

The Brain: No.

Brendan Frye: Or Bad Brick?

The Brain: Nope.

Brendan Frye: Tug?

The Brain: Tug? Tug might be a drink, like milk and vodka, or something.

Brendan Frye: Poor Frisco?

The Brain: Frisco? Frisco Farr was a sophomore last year, real trash. Maybe hit a class a week, I didn’t know him then, haven’t seen him around.

Brendan Frye: Pin?

The Brain: Pin. The Pin?

Brendan Frye: The Pin, yeah?

The Brain: The Pin is kinda a local spook story, yeah know the King Pin.

Brendan Frye: Yeah, I’ve heard it.

The Brain: Same thing, he’s supposed to be old, like 26. Lives in town.

Brendan Frye: Dope runner, right?

The Brain: Big time. See the Pin pipes it from the lowest scraper for Brad Bramish to sell, maybe. Ask any dope rat where their junk sprang and they’ll say they scraped it from that, who scored it from this, who bought it off so, and after four or five connections the list always ends with The Pin. But I bet you, if you got every rat in town together and said “Show your hands” if any of them’ve actually seen The Pin, you’d get a crowd of full pockets.

Brendan Frye: You think The Pin’s just a tale to take whatever heat?

The Brain: Hmm… So what’s first?

Brendan Frye: Show of hands.

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America’s mood in the last decade was dreary, to say the least. Most of the film on this list follow that same sentiment, that of post 9/11 nihilism. So it’s refreshing to see such a hope-filled movie like Slumdog Millionaire. The film isn’t overtly sappy, though. The film’s end feels earned after nearly two hours of turmoil the ’slumdogs’ endure. And it’s all under the impressive direction of Danny Boyle, who after some misses comes back to make his best film since Trainspotting. Also the plot, built around the game show Who Wants to be a Millionaire, turns out to be less ridiculous than it sounds, all thanks to the great adapted screenplay by Simon Beaufoy. Love, destiny, and hope were what America was feeling at the time Slumdog Millionaire won Best Picture. It may feel like years ago, but the film reminds us that it wasn’t all doom and gloom in the 2000’s.

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Stay tuned for part 3.

Found out tonight I’m recording an episode of the excellent podcast “Battleship Pretension” tomorrow on the subject of Over-analyzing movies – does it really exist? If so, to what extent is it a bad thing?

So, I’ve been compiling a list of questions, thoughts, and anecdotes since over-analyzing movies (and anything) is an accusation often lobbed at me. It never fails to provoke an eye-roll from me at the time, but I’d be lying if I said I don’t quietly worry over it at night.

As a filmmaker, I worry about it even more. Am I over-analyzing my own writing? Am I seeing things in this that aren’t there and won’t translate on-screen? Is there even a point in making this film? It’s worth noting that I’ve been at it for about 2 hours now, and not because I can’t think of what to contribute. We’re past that. Now we’re back on the roller-coaster of circular-logic about intelligent art vs. “dumb” art and how maybe it’s a sign of elitism that I would even try to label someone else’s art as dumb, and then the other part of me that says no, screw that, Writing X is smart and Writing Z is dumb. And dumb is bad. And I am smart. Am I smart?

A few weeks ago, I was in charge of the devotional for my Men’s Group and we discussed, for about two hours, to what extent FORM or PACKAGING does and should influence us. I promise it actually had a lot to do with God and how we receive His message and whether or not it’s necessarily Biblically WRONG to discount a sermon based on the way it’s delivered/written. We also talked about the rise of the over-packaged church. You know the one. Starbucks and bookshop and giant plasma screens everywhere and loud, thumping announcements with “cutting edge” graphics and music hip enough that, quote, “you won’t be ashamed to bring your unsaved friends!” How those things distract from the message in one way, but in another way, because one of the gifts God gives us is the ability to deliver His truth to other people, the way we package something is vital because good packaging (as form) points to a form higher than ourselves.

I’m off-topic.

Jonathan Franzen

So, the subject reminded me of a passage in Jonathan Franzen’s book How to Be Alone about writing intelligent fiction with a heightened vocabulary that most people can still understand. About the contract between reader and writer. Because one of the things I want to talk about tomorrow (we’ll see if we even get around to it) is, since I’m coming to the topic not only as a critic but also as an artist, whose work is the subject of the criticism (I’m speaking in the global sense, we’re not dissecting MY films on the show), that my view on the show’s topic might be that the ideas of the “Best Analysis” and the “Most Analysis” are two very different things; that Best Analysis relies not solely on the intellect when determining quality, while the Most Analysis refuses to base quality on anything but intellect.

I couldn’t find the passage (I have the paper-back edition, so if you stumble upon it, let me know), but I did get distracted and wound up in Franzen’s own personal struggle of why to write in one of the essays, called “Why Bother?” Here’s his predicament:

“Panic grows in the gap between the increasing length of the project and the shrinking time increments of cultural change: How to design a craft that can float on history for as long as it takes to build it? The novelist has more and more to say to readers who have less and less time to read: Where to find the energy to engage with a culture in crisis when the crisis consists in the impossibility of engaging with the culture?”

Reading that sentence sent me into a frenzy. Keep in mind, he wrote this article in 1996, nearly 15 years ago. How do you maintain culturally relevant work when the culture being reflected changes faster than you can create? I feel this way about movies; the peril must be amplified for the novelist. If this was the state of things in 1996, what calamity befalls the novelist now? How fast social phenomena come and go! How long do you think it will be before twitter and Facebook and MySpace (and blogs!?) are obsolete? For an easy example, look at cell-phones. The moment you buy one, five more have come out. In six months or a year, the model you bought will have been updated and expanded. It takes about two years to “earn” a phone-upgrade through the average cell-phone plan, provided you don’t change plans every so often. Think how movies have changed. Think how music has changed. How the delivery systems and modes of receiving them have changed. Now think how much the book has changed. Not much. Ink on paper, bound together. Sure, there’s that gizmo the Kindle, but it hasn’t caught on. For all the changes in everything else, most people still prefer to have a book and hold it. The newspaper can’t even boast that. The book is one of our most steadfast artistic endeavors. And yet so few people read.

I remembered that the article arrived at an answer to Franzen’s fear, if not a solution, and because at this point it was a little after 3:30am, I had to read ahead to figure out if his answers would satisfy me or, if they didn’t, if I could come up with a good enough counter-proposal to be able to go to sleep. In other words, I had to analyze. To an extent. Franzen’s answer is one I do find comforting.

Expecting a novel to bear the weight of our whole disturbed society–to help solve our contemporary problems–seems to me to be a peculiarly American delusion. To write sentences of such authenticity that refuge can be taken in them: Isn’t this enough? Isn’t it a lot?

Don DeLillo

It is enough. I started breathing again. A lot of times, too, a book or movie or whatever that is only about the RIGHT NOW will, itself, only be relevant right now. It will be a product of its time, and its own shelf-life will only be as long as that of the social phenomenon it’s about. And then it will be gone. But other things will last. Better things will remain. The film “25th Hour” got totally overlooked in 2002 when it came out. It was on my list of the best films of that year, because I sought it out. Zero Oscar nominations. Zero Golden Globe nominations. The movie was made by Spike Lee and has Edward Norton, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Rosario Dawson, and Anna Paquin. Seven years later, it is appearing on numerous Best-of-the-Decade Lists. Seven years later, it has remained.

So, of course, this entry, which was supposed to be short, has gone long. I’ll close with more encouragement, from the end of Franzen’s essay. It comes from another favorite writer of mine, Don DeLillo, who wrote to Franzen personally when he (Franzen) appealed to him (DeLillo) for help.

“The writer leads, he doesn’t follow. The dynamic lives in the writer’s mind, not in the size of the audience. And if the social novel lives, but only barely, surviving in the cracks and ruts of the culture, maybe it will be taken more seriously, as an endangered spectacle. A reduced context but a more intense one.

Writing is a form of personal freedom. It frees us from the mass identity we see in the making all around us. In the end, writers will write not to be outlaw heroes of some underculture but mainly to save themselves, to survive as individuals.”

Maybe the best scene/montage from a movie the last decade.

Pratfalls

Heath Solo’s 100 Favorite films of all-time continues with number 90 to 81.  You can catch the countdown on The Film List podcast.

Top 100 favorite films # 90-81 :

Tom and Huck at number 90.

90.   Tom Sawyer (1973)  Johnny Whitaker, Jodie Foster, Warren Oates.  directed by Don Taylor.

89.   Collateral  (2004)   Tom Cruise, Jamie Foxx.  Directed by Michael Mann.

88.   Ocean’s 12  (2004)  George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts.  Directd by Steven Soderbergh.

After the meeting with Matsui.

87.   Chasing Amy  (1997)  Ben Affleck, Jason lee, Joey Lauren Adams.  Directed by Kevin Smith.

Grease is the word at #86.

86.   Grease  (1978)   John Travolta, Olivia Newton-John.  Directed by Randal Kleiser.

Greased Lighning.....

85.   JFK  (1991)   Kevin Costner, Joe Pesci, Gary Oldman.  Directed by Oliver Stone.

Kevin Costner explains the greatest American conspiracy since Donald re-opened the X-Files.

84.   Fargo  (1996)   William H. Macy, Steve Buscemi, Frances McDormand.  Directed by Coen Brothers.

83.   The Graduate  (1967)   Dustin Hoffman, Anne Bancroft, Katharine Ross.  Directed by Mike Nichols.

82.   The Cinncinati Kid  (1965)  Steve McQueen, Edward G. Robinson, Ann-Margret.  Directed by Norman Jewison.

Edward G. and my man Steve McQueen.

81.   The 25th Hour  (2003)   Edward Norton, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Barry Pepper, Rosario Dawson, Anna Paquin, Tony Siragusa, Brian Cox.  Directed by Spike Lee.

Last night of freedom.....

Listen to this Film List as told by Heath Solo :

THE FILM LIST

#10. Inglourious Basterds – 2009 (Dir. Quentin Tarantino)

Quentin Tarantino’s apocalyptic, revisionist, cineaste-friendly take on World War II feels like a splash of cold water to the face; a film rife with tension and suspense but comprised almost entirely of beautifully executed conversations. And in more than one way, Tarantino manages to both have his cake and eat it too. One on level the film is a carnage-laden revenge thriller, laced with a Grand Guignol climax and absurd moments of comedy, but the ethical issues Tarantino is sorting through here, those of guilt, complacency, and that of the toll of vengeance itself, are more loaded and subtly examined than the film initially lets on, and wisely so. This is a film responsible for one of the great screen villains of the decade in the sickeningly charming Col. Hans Landa, probably the first recorded usage of a Billy Preston song in a WWII film, and a scene where Brad Pitt speaks “Italian” which is nothing short of greatness. Bravo Mr. Tarantino, bravo.

#9. No Country for Old Men – 2007 (Dir. Joel and Ethan Coen)

On the surface this film is a fun (artfully shot, thanks to the great Roger Deakins) visceral thriller, about a satchel of money, the man ignorant enough to take it, and the assassin with the bowl cut who follows suit, but oh how it is about so much more. What the Coens have done here with their interpretation of Cormac McCarthy’s text is that they’re made a meditation on the nature of evil, and its very role in the universe. Chigurh may be a goofy looking guy who carries around that imposing cattle gun, but he represents the evil and unstoppable force of the universe: unflinching, alien, and only answerable to chance. The final admission of Tommy Lee Jones’ Sheriff Bell may feel like a cinematic cop-out, but it’s a last plea for guidance, and an ultimate admission of nihilism from a guardian who has seen the worst that man can do, and can’t stand to govern it any longer. The Coens are the only gods in this world, and this is their ultimate study of man’s continual foolishness and savagery, naturally set in the open west.

#8. Pan’s Labyrinth – 2006 (Dir. Guillermo del Toro)

In combining fairy tale mythos with wartime tragedy, geek icon Guillermo del Toro has managed to make a movie as awe-inspiring as it is bleak. The visually lush fantasy land encountered by the Alice-like protagonist Ofelia, whether you think it is a construct of her consciousness or something more literal, is an effectively illustration of the film’s thesis that fantasy and innocence will always prevail in spirit over atrocities, and subsequently what would easily be pigeon-holed as mere fantasy becomes something more profound and meditative. In a strange sort of way, Pan’s Labyrinth is the modern-day Wizard of Oz, with a greater sense of social awareness and a more mature understanding of the world’s potential for ugliness, resulting in a remarkably powerful film filled with melancholy and wonder.

#7. Shaun of the Dead – 2004 (Dir. Edgar Wright)

Romance. Buddy movie. Zombie movie and loving tribute to said horror subgenre. Shaun of the Dead’s got it all. Easily the most purely entertaining film of the last 10 years, Shaun is more than an impeccably cast and expertly edited roller-coaster ride through the zombie apocalypse. Rather, the real heart and soul of this movie lies within the touching (and reasonably homoerotic) relationship between Shaun and Ed, which set the standard for what we call the “bromance” today. Also, it’s got a scene where people beat a zombie to death in tandem to the rhythm of Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now,” and that is my personal definition of awesome.

#6. Children of Men – 2006 (Dir. Alfonso Cuaron)

So many movies resort to delivering exposition clumsily, through contrived dialogue exchanges and lazy writing, but in Alfonso Cuaron’s vision of an infertile, dystopian future, the set dressing tells us everything we need to know. News reports, signs plastered on lamp posts, and the other innumerable background details give us all the information we need about this world on the brink of apocalypse, and it becomes frighteningly real, before the real journey even begins. Indeed, the magic of Children of Men is that after all the horrors it depicts, those reminiscent of ones inflicted in the past, it still manages to radiate a sense of hope in the end. Cuaron’s bravura filmmaking (including his infamous mammoth tracking shots) serves to show the extent of the task taken on by our protagonists, so that by the end when you see the fruits of their brutal labor (or its presence on the horizon) it becomes a moment of earned transcendence.

#5. Zodiac – 2007 (Dir. David Fincher)

It makes sense that a film centered on obsession would be right up noted perfectionist David Fincher’s alley. Indeed, there’s something that makes this film standout from the average procedural, a personal touch that isn’t merely the product of Fincher’s personal history with the case in question (he grew up in the Bay Area in the early 60s). Nevertheless, this is a tremendous film where every detail – the clothing, the music choices, the character affectations – all add up to a haunting and unforgettable whole, which transcends the limitations of a serial killer movie. And it’s safe to say after viewing Zodiac, you will never listen to “Hurdy Gurdy Man” the same way again.

#4. There Will Be Blood – 2007 (Dir. Paul Thomas Anderson)

It’s almost too easy these days to look past this film as the originator of “milkshake” memes and Daniel Plainview parodies, but holy crap is this still an incredible film. As a piece of filmmaking, it is a massive achievement, as its epic scope is beautifully realized. Daniel Day-Lewis’ work as Plainview is universally acknowledged as brilliant, and rightly so. However, the reason this film still sticks with me, and I think the thing a lot of people frequently forget about it is that it’s not just a simple story about greed. Plainview could easily have become self-parody, a walking and snarling avatar of social Darwinism pushed to its natural extreme, but the character is so well realized by Anderson that it’s tremendous, milkshakes and all.

#3. 25^th Hour – 2002 (Dir. Spike Lee)

In my eyes, no film has quite been able to portray the post-9/11 zeitgeist as well as Spike Lee did in his raw and poetic 2002 film 25^th Hour. Terrence Blanchard’s score is fantastic, the performances (ranging from Ed Norton and Philip Seymour Hoffman to Brian Cox) are all excellent, and David Benioff’s script is a powerful, character-driven meditation on regret, masculinity, friendship, and consequence. And the last 10 minutes of the film, the fantasy of what could have been, or what could still be, warrant this spot on my list alone. They comprise a haunting sequence that hits as hard as it does not simply because it’s effective as mere fantasy, but because we’ve become as attached to these characters as we have in the preceding two hours, thanks to the brevity and ingenuity of the filmmaking on display. Spike Lee is an incredible erratic director, but this represents one of his finest hours.

#2. The Royal Tenenbaums – 2001 (Dir. Wes Anderson)

Many have accused Wes Anderson of over art directing and stylizing his films to the extent that they feel like they exist in a hermetically universe of his own creation, but is it possible that this is Anderson’s intent all along in creating an atmosphere, and that he is entitled to that very style which distinguishes him as an auteur? Anderson’s symmetrically composed shots, British invasion soundtrack, densely detailed frames, and deadpan sense of humor create a great sense of setting for the universe his supposed dysfunctional family inhabits, and subsequently his pastiche of J.D. Salinger and Hal Ashby becomes uniquely his own. Anderson’s characters may feel like they live in a dollhouse, but it is one furnished with love and care.

And as for my favorite film of the decade, it is a title shared between two films, both from the mind of Charlie Kaufman…

#1a. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind – 2004 (Dir. Michel Gondry)

In some ways, this is the modern day love story. It’s messy, painful, wounded, but full of love and yearning for the joy of days past. I could go on about how much I love the homemade, dream-like aesthetic of the film, or how Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet are together, but something about this film hits me on a visceral level that I can barely articulate. No one can do suffering like Charlie Kaufman, but as this film shows, he also has the soul of a romantic.

#1b. Synecdoche, New York – 2008 (Dir. Charlie Kaufman)

Technically speaking this is a cheat, but I couldn’t decide where to place this film on my list, and given the abstract nature of the movie it seems almost logical that it would take an untraditional spot like this. The film is at least initially incomprehensible and strange, but it absolutely wrecked me emotionally upon first viewing as it still continues to do. Kaufman here has distilled so much about life into this film, that like life itself it is rife with despair, hope, pessimism, lost opportunities, and moments of profound realization. My love for this movie can’t be summed up in merely stating that Philip Seymour Hoffman is fantastic as Caden Cotard, the obsessive director whom we follow through the film, or that the script does a brilliant job of dizzily playing with time, logic, and general cinematic convention. The ultimate example of this movie’s power (and no, I refuse to make a synecdoche pun, this is where I draw the line) is the Jon Brion song that serves as a motif throughout it, “Little Person.” It is a haunting, sad, and strangely wonderful work of indescribable effectiveness, much like Kaufman’s film.

Honorable Mentions: Let the Right One In, Hot Fuzz, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, Superbad, Wet Hot American Summer, Oldboy, United 93, Minority Report, Michael Clayton, The Virgin Suicides, The Bourne Supremacy/Ultimatum, Traffic, Monsters Inc., Big Fish, Anchorman, Moon, Snow Angels, Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit, Gone Baby Gone, Ghost World, Spider-Man 2, The Prestige, In America

Finally. It’s over. The 2000s. The 00s. The aughts. Whatever the fuck you want to call it. We’re done. And with the close of the decade, comes the obligatory nostalgic look back. And while we’ve suffered through a lot of bullshit these past ten years, there is also much to be appreciated–especially when it comes to film.

When we sat down to compile the best of the aughts, our initial list was almost 300 strong. We were blown away by the sheer number of dope movies that had come out.

This decade: We were introduced to Rian Johnson and Jason Reitman. Danny Boyle got the props we’ve been saying he deserved for years. Christopher Nolan gave us a superhero movie that didn’t suck. Charlie Kaufman decided to actually direct one of his screenplays. The Oscars officially became a joke. And sexy gypsy was born.

A lot of coffee, cigarettes and Wes Andersen bashing went into making this list. But we’re happy with the way it turned out. Don’t expect to see dumb shit like The Lord of The Rings or Dream Girls here. Instead you’ll see films from The Coen Brothers, Jim Jarmusch and Takashi Miike. The few honorable mentions that didn’t quite make the cut are at the bottom of the post.

Anyway, without any further rambling, here it is. sexy gypsy’s Best of the Aughts…

(in alphabetical order)

1) Almost Famous (Cameron Crowe, 2000)

I was 15 years old when Almost Famous dropped and changed my life. It was the first time I realized people would pay you to run around, listen to music and talk about it. So in a way, sexy gypsy wouldn’t even be here without this movie. It featured a great cast–Patrick Fugit (who shows up twice on this list), Zooey Deschanel, Anna Paquin, Frances McDormand aka Willem Dafoe (seriously, look that shit up. They look exactly alike. We still maintain they are the same person), Jason Lee, Philip Seymour Hoffman and even Jimmy Fallon. Add that to an immensely personal Cameron Crowe script, perfect music, and Billy Crudup screaming “I AM A GOLDEN GOD!” from atop a roof, and you have one damn fine film. –BIG

2) American Gangster (Ridley Scott, 2008)

3) American Psycho (Mary Harron, 2000)

4) Anchorman (Adam McKay, 2004)

5) Antichrist (Lars von Trier, 2009)

6) Audition (Takashi Miike, 2001)

7) Away We Go (Sam Mendes, 2009)

The Boondock Saints (Troy Duffy, 2000)

9) Brick (Rian Johnson, 2005)

10) The Brothers Bloom (Rian Johnson, 2009)

Last year, Rian Johnson’s Brick showed up on a sexy gypsy list of off-the-radar films, and we basically called it a one hit wonder. We officially apologize to Mr. Johnson. The Brothers Bloom, while very different from Brick, showed a matured sense of direction and style, with the same tone of homage and innovation, and a playful sense of humor. As an elaborate, yet completely character-driven con film, this is moviemaking at it’s finest. –GWG

11) Broken Flowers (Jim Jarmusch, 2005)

12) Children of Men (Alfonso Cuaron, 2006)

13) Choke (Clark Gregg, 2008)

14) The Chumscrubber (Arie Posin, 2005)

Teenage suicide is never a good thing. Unless it brings about the complete destruction of idyllic white suburbia. What’s interesting about this film is that it doesn’t show you underlying problems around the neighborhood, and then culminate with a death. The suicide happens at the beginning, and instead of being the breaking point, or even the catalyst, it is the loose thread that unravels everyone’s secrets and facades. It is beautifully written and acted, with a multi-generational, eclectic cast that actually fits very well together. –GWG

15) City of God (Fernando Meirelles, Katia Lund, 2002)

16) Coffee and Cigarettes (Jim Jarmusch, 2003)

17) Collateral (Michael Mann, 2004)

18) Crash (Paul Haggis, 2005)

19) Criminal (Gregory Jacobs, 2004)

20) The Dark Knight (Christopher Nolan, 2008)

21) The Departed (Martin Scorcese, 2006)

The Departed is the only film on this list I had to fight for. The Great White Gypsy hated it. But he’s crazy, so I had to veto. Granted, I am a confessed Scorsese groupie. The man has never made a film I didn’t love. And I’ve seen them all. Even the obscure ones like Boxcar Bertha. So maybe I was a little biased with this pick. But to me, anytime you can put Matt Damon, Mark Wahlberg and Leonardo DiCaprio in the same movie and not make people want stab themselves in the eye, it’s a fucking win. Bonus points for having Nas and Flogging Molly on the same soundtrack. –BIG

22) The Devil’s Rejects (Rob Zombie, 2005)

Admittedly, Rob Zombie’s first venture, House of 1000 Corpses, was retarded. However, with a little less Horror rip-off, and a lot more disturbing violence, the sequel was a cult classic opening weekend. Zombie knows how to work a camera, but this film is probably the pinnacle of his work with the soundtrack. It starts with The Allman Brothers’ Midnight Rider, swells with a violent sequence to the tune of Terry Reid’s To Be Treated Right, and finishes with the best use of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Free Bird to date. All of this is driven home by a sobering message: There is no ice cream in your fucking future. –GWG

23) District 9 (Neill Blomkamp, 2009)

24) Donnie Darko (Richard Kelly, 2001)

25) The Dreamers (Bernardo Bertolucci, 2003)

26) Eastern Promises (David Cronenberg, 2007)

27) Equilibrium (Kurt Wimmer, 2002)

28) Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Michel Gondry, 2004)

29) The Fall (Tarsem Singh, 2008)

This is one of the most beautiful films I’ve ever seen. Tarsem Singh makes a huge leap up from his very respectable 2000 debut, The Cell, and tells us an engaging story in ways never before seen. In a time of crazy, overdone CGI and generic plot, The Fall was refreshingly organic. Great acting, directing, cinematography, and everything in between. –BIG

30) (500) Days of Summer (Marc Webb, 2009)

31) Garden State (Zach Braff, 2004)

32) Ghost World (Terry Zwigoff, 2001)

33) Gladiator (Ridley Scott, 2000)

34) Half Nelson (Ryan Fleck, 2006)

35) The Hangover (Todd Phillips, 2009)

36) Havoc (Barbara Kopple, 2005)

37) High Fidelity (Stephen Frears, 2000)

Like Almost Famous, High Fidelity was one of those life defining movies for me. He owned a record store, argued about top five lists with his friends, organized his music collection autobiographically and pined over beautiful women. That was his whole life. How awesome is that? Almost Famous made me realize I could write about music, High Fidelity made me realize I wasn’t alone in obsessing over it. –BIG

HIGH FIDELITY BONUS: TOP 5 SONGS TO PLAY AT MY FUNERAL:

1) Paint It Black – The Rolling Stones

2) Ready To Die – The Notorious BIG

3) Bullet With Butterfly Wings – The Smashing Pumpkins

4) Funeral – The Clipse

5) Angel’s Son – Snot featuring Lajon Witherspoon from Sevendust

38) High Tension (Alexandre Aja, 2005)

39) Humpday (Lynn Shelton, 2009)

One of the things I will always remember about this decade is my discovery of Mumblecore. I started with The Puffy Chair and soon devoured films like Baghead, Mutual Appreciation and Funny Ha Ha. Though not always the best executed films, the genre intrigued me. And with the success of people like Lynn Shelton and Mark Duplass, I hope more people discover it. Humpday is an experience. You’re in the room, a silent observer–not just someone watching a film. Effortlessly hilarious and purposefully awkward, it is one of my favorite films of this year and definitely deserves a spot on the list. –BIG

40) The Hurt Locker (Katherine Bigelow, 2009)

41) Ichi the Killer (Takashi Miike, 2003)

42) Imaginary Heroes (Dan Harris, 2004)

43) In Bruges (Martin McDonagh, 2008)

44) In Search of a Midnight Kiss (Alex Holdridge, 2007)

45) Inglourious Basterds (Quentin Tarantino, 2009)

46) Jarhead (Sam Mendes, 2005)

47) Juno (Jason Reitman, 2007)

48) Kill Bill Vol 1 & 2 (Quentin Tarantino, 2003, 2004)

49) Kingdom of Heaven (Ridley Scott, 2005)

50) Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (Shane Black, 2005)

“You look up the ‘idiot’ in the dictionary, know what you’ll find?”

“A picture of me?”

“No, the definition of the word idiot, which you fucking are!!”

This film never gets old. Raymond Chandler meets Abbott and Costello. The mystery itself isn’t anything amazingly unique, but it’s entertaining and solid enough to hold up a great cast, one of the best narrations ever, and almost as many quotable quotes as Anchorman.

“Talking money…”

“A Talking monkey?”

“Talking monkey, yeah, yeah. Came here from the future. Ugly sucker, only says ficus.”

–GWG

51) Knocked Up (Judd Apatow, 2007)

52) Let the Right One In (Tomas Alfredson, 2008)

53) Little Children (Todd Field, 2006)

54) Little Miss Sunshine (Jonathan Dayton, Valerie Faris, 2006)

55) Lost in Translation (Sofia Coppola, 2003)

56) Love Actually (Richard Curtis, 2003)

57) The Machinist (Brad Anderson, 2004)

58) Maria Full of Grace (Joshua Marston, 2004)

59) Memento (Christopher Nolan, 2000)

60) Milk (Gus van Sant, 2008)

61) Monsoon Wedding (Mira Nair, 2002)

62) Mulholland Drive (David Lynch, 2001)

63) 9 Songs (Michael Winterbottom, 2005)

A lot of people are quick to dismiss this film as unnecessarily explicit, self-indulgent, (not so) thinly veiled pornography. I couldn’t disagree more. Michael Winterbottom is a masterful storyteller, communicating an entire relationship with minimum dialogue and nine amazing songs. It’s an ambitious concept that in less capable hands would have failed miserably. But Winterbottom executes it perfectly. It’s on Netflix Watch Instantly right now. So if you haven’t seen it, do so now. –BIG

64) No Country for Old Men (The Coen Brothers, 2008)

65) O Brother Where Art Thou (The Coen Brothers, 2000)

66) Oldboy (Chan-wook Park, 2003)

The second film in Chan-wook Park’s Revenge Trilogy (Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, Sympathy for Lady Vengeance), Oldboy features some original camerawork, really cool fight scenes, and an emotional yet disturbing story that would make David Fincher blush. The hallway fight, done in one continuous shot, is a staple of discussion. But there are so many great scenes, so many impressive technical aspects and character moments, that it definitely warrants multiple viewings. We did want to include the entire trilogy on the list, as there is a noticeable arc and underlying theme across all three films. However, they are all separate, unrelated stories, and Oldboy stands out as the strongest link. –GWG

67) Pan’s Labyrinth (Guillermo del Toro, 2006)

68) Purple Violets (Edward Burns, 2007)

69) Rachel Getting Married (Jonathan Demme, 2008)

70) Requiem for a Dream (Darren Aronofsky, 2000)

71) Revolutionary Road (Sam Mendes, 2008)

72) The Road to Perdition (Sam Mendes, 2002)

73) The Salton Sea (D.J. Caruso, 2002)

74) Saw (James Wan, 2004)

75) A Scanner Darkly (Richard Linklater, 2006)

76) Shaun of the Dead (Edgar Wright, 2004)

77) Shopgirl (Anand Tucker, 2005)

78) Sin City (Robert Rodriguez, Frank Miller, 2005)

79) Slumdog Millionaire (Danny Boyle, 2008)

80) Snatch (Guy Ritchie, 2000)

81) The Squid and the Whale (Noah Baumbach, 2005)

82) State and Main (David Mamet, 2000)

83) Sukiyaki Western Django (Takashi Miike, 2008)

What do you get when you mix Yojimbo, Django, and A Fistfull of Dollars? Actually, if you’re anyone but Takashi Miike, your head might explode. Lucky for us, the Japanese maestro of bloodshed helmed this crazy, entertaining, violent film about…Japanese cowboys? In Miike’s first American project, he decides to have Asian actors speaking John Wayne-style English while carrying six shooters and katanas. Oh yeah, and Tarantino has a couple cameos. Fucking great. –GWG

84) Surveillance (Jennifer Lynch, 2009)

85) Synecdoche, New York (Charlie Kaufman, 2008)

86) There Will Be Blood (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2007)

87) Thirteen (Catherine Hardwicke, 2003)

In 2003, a pre-Twilight Catherine Hardwicke gave us a film that would alter the existence of little sisters forever. I saw Thirteen and wanted nothing more than to lock my sister in a closet until she was 20. That was the only conceivable way to save her from the unbearable plight of the teenage American girl. Most of the credit for this film goes to Nikki Reed, who was 15 when she wrote it. Thirteen is an exceptionally honest and powerful directorial debut from a director that proved to be a one hit wonder. –BIG

88) 28 Days Later (Danny Boyle, 2003)

Not many zombie movies offer much more than cheap thrills and bloody carnage. We’ll be honest, that’s why we love them. With Danny Boyle’s version, though, every aspect of the film is striking. The character development, the landscape, the music, and the balls-to-the-wall tension throughout make this film stand an infected, disembodied head above the rest in the genre. –GWG

89) 25th Hour (Spike Lee, 2002)

90) The United States of Leland (Matthew Ryan Hoge, 2003)

This film makes us miss the early 2000’s, when all-star casts could still deliver a patient, tempered, emotional film. As a whole, this movie exhibits the same complex subtleties as its main character, a simple-minded teenager accused of murder. Themes of perspective, miscommunication, self-examination and accountability underline interesting cinematography and a beautiful story. –GWG

91) The Wackness (Jonathan Levine, 2008)

92) The Way of the Gun (Christopher McQuarrie, 2000)

93) Wicker Park (Paul McGuigan, 2004)

94) The Wrestler (Darren Aronofsky, 2008)

95) Wristcutters: A Love Story (Goran Dukic, 2006)

96) Zack and Miri Make a Porno (Kevin Smith, 2008)

Honorable Mentions

Infernal Affairs (Wai-keung Lau, Alan Mak, 2002)

Though infinitely better than The Departed, this film had it’s share of problems, and spawned two unnecessary sequels.

Avatar (James Cameron, 2009)

The story may have been borrowed, and the score unoriginal, but the visuals in this film (as well as the 3-D effects) will revolutionize cinema as we know it.

Life as a House (Irwin Winkler, 2001)

An amazing character study that develops well, with solid acting and a decent soundtrack. The downside: Hayden Christiansen

Irreversible (Gaspar Noe, 2002)

Very similar to Memento, this reverse film is well acted and directed, but without the intense, realistic, extremely long rape sequence, it might not have as much effect.

The Anniversary Party (Alan Cumming, Jennifer Jason Leigh, 2001)

Very well written and acted, even John C. Reilly tones it down a bit. Possibly a tad self indulgent, but the ecstasy scene is great.

Spartan (David Mamet, 2004)

Mamet’s esoteric uber-realism that doesn’t bother explaining itself to the ordinary viewer is the best and worst part of this film. It never stops moving, and maintains it’s staying power, it just doesn’t wait for anyone to catch up.

Layer Cake (Matthew Vaughn, 2004)

Great soundtrack, great acting, great story. Decent dialog, cinematography, cutting this one was hard, but just couldn’t stand up to some of the competition.

Thank You for Smoking (Jason Reitman, 2005)

Jason Reitman can do no wrong. Possibly Eckhart’s best performance. Another tough choice, but Juno kinda kicked it in the pork sword.

Hard Candy (David Slade, 2005)

Few movies can make me cringe. 15-year-old Ellen Page threatening to castrate Patrick Wilson? Really, really uncool. Great acting and writing, but a bit limited in it’s scope.

Renaissance (Christian Volckman, 2006)

Black and white motion capture animation set in Paris, 2054. The story’s a little muddled at times, but it’s just frickin cool to watch cartoon Daniel Craig shoot people in the face.

****  

A peculiar thing happened as I sat down to write the list of my favorite films of the decade.  I first thought to pick 10, but that wouldn’t do. Then I listed 15.  Nope.  20? Uh uh.  I couldn’t stop.  As someone who could stream-of-consciously pontificate ad nauseum, I finally disciplined myself to halt at 25 (…or so).  And since that was frustrating enough, I realized to list them in order of preference would clearly be more of an arduous task, so I figured, screw that. Let me take the easy way out and list them alphabetically. You know, the easy way out.

Now, that’s not to say I don’t have one particular favorite – I didn’t need a proverbial gun pointed at my head and told “Pick one, boy, or imma gon’ shoot you” to state that PAN’S LABYRINTH, without hesitation, is it.  No film has haunted me more, both visually and viscerally, than Guillermo Del Toro’s fantasy.  It’s one of the most remarkable films of all time.  That was the easy part.  But what’s a wannabe critic to do?

At first, I wasn’t going to boast such lofty platitudes as to state “I’m a critic”, but then realized, “Hey! I guess I am!”  But really, who isn’t?  If you have an opinion, or some basic knowledge of craft, you are a critic (hat I am not is a film expert).  Film, like music and all arts, is a personal experience, and opinion is individualistic, and what effects/affects one’s soul might alter over time and differ from the friend who sits next to you.  

It’s strange cataloging such a vast amount of cinematic experiences for a whole 10-year span when you consider I haven’t even chosen a Best of 2009 list yet.  I haven’t finished watching some end-of-year releases.  And while I’m looking forward to the unseen, I can’t fathom that any of them could live up to the two revelatory experiences that  I did see in 2009 that join this “decade favorite” shortlist  – the glorious UP, and Kathryn Bigelow’s THE HURT LOCKER.  The former joins the Pixar Parthenon (whose first 11 minutes alone – which include a four-minute soliloquy quietly detailing a love affair from the genesis at childhood to marriage to old age to the inevitable - are some of the most joyful and heartrending moments ever put on-screen and are proof enough of its addition here), while the latter should finally eliminate the Academy’s long-standing history of misogyny; in over eight decades, only three other women have ever been nominated for a Best Director Oscar (Lina Wertmuller in 1976 for SEVEN BEAUTIES, Jane Campion in 1993 for THE PIANO and only a few years ago, Sofia Coppola for 2003s LOST IN TRANSLATION) with no wins.  After deservedly bestowed with just about any and every critics award for Best Film and Best Director, that long-festering Oscar scar should be healed and the award should go to Bigelow.  And she’ll deserve it.  

One thing I noticed while compiling my favorites was how similar my list was in comparison to many other published lists.  Though I don’t remember Spike Lee’s great 25^TH HOUR receiving that many rave reviews upon initial release (which at that time I found curious – when I saw the film I immediately elevated it to Lee’s high echelon of masterpieces alongside DO THE RIGHT THING and MALCOLM X), I’m happy that here, at the end of a decade, the film makes multiple showings on various Top 10s.  Better late than never, I surmise.  Other notables were expected (e.g. NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN, PAN, ETERNAL SUNSHINE) while others’ inclusions I was happily surprised with (who knew so many admired MINORITY REPORT, A.I. and David Fincher’s greatest film, ZODIAC as much as I did?). Others made my list that I couldn’t find on anyone else’s with a fine-tooth comb, accolades notwithstanding (THE DESCENT – the scariest horror film of the decade, and IN THE BEDROOM, a master class in acting by its cast).  See, art is subjective.  

On most ‘best’ lists that you’ll read is David Lynch’s MULHOLLAND DRIVE. I’m usually allergic to Lynch’s trash-pretending-to-be-art oeuvres (most notably the dubiously honored yet detestable BLUE VELVET and WILD AT HEART), and after viewing this confounded curiosity back in 2001, my feelings hadn’t changed. Perhaps a second viewing is in order to at least try to understand the trifecta of critical, hipster and geek appeal.  Or maybe I have better things to do…  

A major exclusion on my list (but whose inclusion on most critics lists is not so startling) is Martin Scorcese’s THE DEPARTED.  Scorcese’s remake of Alan Mak and Andrew Lau’s 2004 INFERNAL AFFAIRS told a solid story, sure, and his direction is flawless, which we could/should always expect from the greatest director alive. But I could not get past the embarrassingly cringe-inducing Jack Nicholson performance. If it’s true that he’s played The Joker for about 20 years now in one form or another in every film since Tim Burton’s gorgeous-looking yet sterile BATMAN (and it IS true, since I’m the one who said it), then his Frank Costello was a compendium of every one of those over-the-top performances he’s given since that film – and for a great actor who has (mostly) coasted on his legend rather than his art these past 2 decades, that’s saying a lot (Oscar be damned, AS GOOD AS IT GETS was pure Lifetime Movie Of The Week. And if you mention THE BUCKET LIST I will get violent). THE DEPARTED is not Scorcese’s best – though certainly not a clunker, but I can’t help but feel his Best Director Oscar was a consolation prize for the multiple he should have won for a lifetime of masterful moviemaking (who can deny that he was robbed for TAXI DRIVER, GOODFELLAS, or RAGING BULL?).  

As I’ve written, I could have continued the list with another 25+ titles but with PAN’S LABYRINTH as my favorite film of the past 10 years, the proceeding, alphabetized 25 (…or so) could be listed in any sequence.  Without agenda, or really much of a formula in my decision-making process, these are the films I gravitated toward more and more, and those which left an indelible heart-print on some subconscious or conscious level. I won’t say these are the “best” films of the decade (I’m not always comfortable making such proclamations) but they are my favorites.   I also won’t be so audacious to claim that my favorites are any better (or not) than yours.  

Remember, art is subjective.  

****  

25th Hour (dir. Spike Lee 2002)  

****  

A.I. (dir. Steven Spielberg 2001)  

****  

Almost Famous (dir. Cameron Crowe 2000)  

****  

Brokeback Mountain (dir. Ang Lee 2005)  

****  

Children of Men (dir. Alfonso Cuarón 2006)  

****  

City Of God (dirs. Fernando Meirelles & Katia Lund 2002)  

****  

The Descent (dir. Neil Maarshall 2005)  

****  

The Diving Bell And Butterfly (dir. Julian Schnabel 2007)  

****  

Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind (dir. Michel Gondry 2004)  

****  

The Hurt Locker (dir. Kathryn Bigelow 2008)  

****  

In The Bedroom (dir. Todd Field 2001)  

****  

The Incredibles (dir. Brad Bird 2004)  

****  

Kill Bill Vol I & II (dir. Quentin Tarantino 2003/4) (I’m counting as one – so sue me – and someone on YouTube was smart enough to mash-up the two trailers)  

****  

The Lives Of Others (dir. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck 2006)  

****  

Million Dollar Baby (dir. Clint Eastwood 2004)  

****  

Minority Report (dir. Steven Spielberg 2002)  

****  

No Country For Old Men (dirs. Joen & Ethan Coen 2007)  

****  

Once (dir. John Carney 2006)  

****  

Ratatouille (dirs. Brad Bird & Jan Pinkava 2007)  

****  

Spirited Away (dir. Hayao Miyazaki 2001)  

****  

There Will Be Blood (dir. Paul Thoman Anderson 2007)  

****  

Up (dirs. Pete Docter & Bob Peterson 2009)  

****  

Wall-E (dir. Andrew Stanton 2008)  

****  

Y Tu Mamá También (dir. Alfonso Cuarón 2001)  

****  

Zodiac (dir. David Fincher 2007)  

****  

A quick P.S. if you will…

There are pangs of guilt for leaving off other favorites that I’ve loved over the years, like the brilliant Romanian 4 MONTHS, 3 WEEKS, AND 2 DAYS (2007) by director Cristian Mungiu, Todd Haynes’ astonishing Douglas Sirkian homage FAR FROM HEAVEN (2002), Gus Van Sant’s great 2008 biography of Harvey MILK, the best “monster movie” of the decade, Joo-ho Bong’s great THE HOST, Richard Linklater’s magical 2004 sequel BEFORE SUNSET, Ang Lee’s exhilarating 2000 martial arts epic CROUCHING TIGER, HIDDEN DRAGON or Miranda July’s 2005 masterwork ME AND YOU AND EVERYONE WE KNOW.  So let it suffice to say – all worthy. 

And this is not to mention the acclaimed films I never even watched these past years that made many critics lists, including ADAPTATION, LOST IN TRANSLATION, GOSFORD PARK, SIDEWAYS, THE CLASS, CACHE. If you ask me the reasoning behind my flippancy for these much-discussed, mostly applauded works, I won’t have a satisfying reply.  

30. 25th HOUR (2002) – Spike Lee’s opening to this film blew me away when I saw it. It sets a somber tone but Ed Norton kicks it into high gear as an unrepentant drug pusher who spends his last 24 hrs of freedom resigned to his jailtime and hanging with his best friends. The final escape envisioned by his father (Brian Cox) is one of the best rug pulling scenes alongside Brazil’s finale.

29. TALK TO HER (2002) – Perhaps the best Almodovar film that capped a great run starting with Live Flesh and All About My Mother (though he did pick up again after the misfired Bad Education with the wonderful Volver). Clearly a master of his craft at this point, he adroitly mixes the lives of a comatose female bullfighter, her boyfriend, her male nurse and the nurse’s patient. The dream sequence with the giant vagina is a particular stand out.

28. THE SQUID AND THE WHALE (2005) – Noah Baumbach returns after a long hiatus after the touching if slight Mr. Jealousy with this devastating and wry portrayal of 2 boys and how the divorce of their parents affects them. Jesse Eisenberg is a revelation and Jeff Daniels, shaggy yet cutting, pulls an amazing performance.

27. THE PRESTIGE (2006) – A mini Batman Begins reunion occurs when Chris Nolan cast Michael Caine and Christian Bale to star in this mesmerizing tale of two rival magicians (Hugh Jackman being the other) trying to outdo each other with the ultimate magic trick — teleportation. That it involves David Bowie’s Nikolai Tesla and thousands of hats is but one succulent detail of this richly layered thriller.

26. KILL BILL V1 & V2 (2003 / 2004) – QT proves that he can shoot the shit out of several action set-pieces inbetween his more trademark talky bits. Composed as a love letter of sorts to his star, Uma Thurman, the movie traces the journey of revenge of The Bride against her former employer, Bill (played with class and dignity by David Carradine) and his deadly assassins The Deadly Viper Squad. Poetic and bloody. “How do I look?” “You look ready.”

25. SERENITY (2005) – Having the unfortunate distinction of being released the same summer as Revenge of the Sith and only making $30M theatrically, guess which one ends up being the better film? Joss Whedon transports the crew of the Firefly TV show to widescreen success. Our beloved characters are put through the wringer as River Tam’s secret is made known and the Operative set to hunt them closes in. This movie introduced Chiwetel Ejiofor to me as an actor to keep my eye on. Any chance of a sequel, please?

24. SPIRITED AWAY (2001) – Miyazki’s wondrous film about a young girl who loses her parents to the ghosts and spirits who inhabit a bathhouse, and ends up trying to rescue them before losing them forever (somewhat similar to Coraline). The variety and oddity of the many ghosts on display here showcase a wonderful imagination, and the resourcefulness of the young girl as she comes of age makes for a highly entertaining and near-perfect film-going experience.

23. WET HOT AMERICAN SUMMER (2001) – Absurd, ironic and straight-faced about its take on the 80s Summer Camp genre, this hilarious off-kilter comedy barely made it past its first week in theaters only to be “discovered” and rightly championed on home DVD. Any film that can have Chris Meloni talk to a can of food about dick cream deserves a place on every Top 50 Films of the Decade list. Also, best scene is the day spent in town. Rent it now!

22. DONNIE DARKO (2001) – Another overlooked instant cult classic from the same year as Wet Hot American Summer, Richard Kelley’s grim and moody view of Jake Gyllenhaal’s attempt to prevent the end of the world on Halloween, while he negotiates first love and high school, is equal parts philosophical and mystical without being too pretentious or too baffling (see Primer). Boasting a dark and mesmerizing score and 80s soundtrack, this film made Patrick Swayze cool again despite his playing a motivational speaker and possible pedophile, as well as introduced us to Maggie Gyllenhaal and Sparkle Motion.

21. STAR TREK (2009) – Boldly taking the franchise to where no other Star Trek has gone before — a character driven sci-fi actioner with crossover audience appeal. JJ Abrams’s ballsy rebooting of the Trek ‘verse uses a number of his bag of tricks (time travel, the MacGuffin) but to great effect. What follows is a thrilling tale about the nascent crew of the starship Enterprise as they come together to thwart a rogue Romulan (Eric Bana nearly unrecognizable as Nero) who plays havoc with the space-time continuum in an attempt at revenge. Zach Quinto as Spock is spot on and gets the best lines. Karl Urban as Bones is sublime. One of the few films I had the most fun watching this past decade.

Released in 2002 and based on a David Benioff novel of the same name, 25th Hour is a story of a convicted drug dealer who is headed for seven years in prison. As his last day before prison approaches, Monty Brogan (Edward Norton) has 24 hours to look back at his life, spend some time with his closest friends and family and figure out a way to survive the prison. Simultaneously, the story also explores three of his closest friends and the choices made by them, in the past as well as the choices they will make in future. Edward Norton delivers another strong performance and gives a humane touch to the tragedy of this hardcore criminal, making you sympathize with him. Although the film won much critical acclaim, it failed to impress audiences and went largely unnoticed.

Directed by Spike Lee and written by David Benioff, the film starts with Monty Brogan rescuing an injured and vicious stray dog, despite being advised to the contrary by his friend Kostya Novotny (Tony Siragusa). The opening credits roll, and the music and theme turn dark and gloomy. The credits roll with a scene shifting to the 9/11 memorial and the column of light which marks the place where the twin towers once stood. The emptiness of New York is emphatic.

Monty Brogan is sitting on a bench after a morning walk, and is approached by a drug addict. Monty brushes him aside, and it is revealed that Monty has been caught. He then starts walking with his dog, Doyle, to his old school. He meets his old friend Jacob Elinsky (Philip Seymour Hoffman) who is an English teacher in the same school. They plan a get together at a local club in the evening. Elinksy invites Frank Slaughtery (Barry Pepper), who is a successful Wall Street trader, to the get together. Brogan goes back home and meets his girlfriend Naturelle (Rosario Dawson). Together they discuss about his last night as freeman and the party which is being thrown by Uncle Nikolai (Levan Uchaneishvili) at the same local club where Brogan plans the get together. Meanwhile, the film introduces each character (Elinsky, Frank, and Naturelle) by a series of flashbacks and short storylines. It also tells how Monty Brogan was caught. Monty then goes to meet his father James Brogan (Brian Cox) at his Irish pub. They discuss Monty’s mistakes, his past and future as well as the possibility of Naturelle having tipped off the police. Here the most famous sequence of the film, where Monty rants out against everyone else in the city, takes place. Elinsky meets Frank at his apartment overlooking WTC crash site. Frank explains how after tonight Brogan will never be the same again. They later meet at a Chinese restaurant and question each other’s choices and decisions. A flashback reveals how Naturelle and Monty came to know each other. Elinsky and Frank meet Naturelle at a bar, and after that they go to the club where Elinsky runs into one of his students, Mary D’Annunzio (Anna Paquin).

It is in the bar that some of the best scenes of the movie take place. This forms the core of the movie. The different characters question and explain their choices, make accusations, doubt each other, act impulsively and discover something shocking, and finally a truth is revealed. Uncle Nikolai finally gives tips to survive the prison to Monty. Next morning the three friends go to a park, and another great sequence plays out. All the hidden feelings that the friends had for each other, finally bursts out. They end up telling each other what they had always wanted to.

Back home, Monty’s father arrives to take him to the prison. On the way they reflect upon what all has happened. On the way, he sees the various people that he had earlier ranted out against, smile back at him. He has taken back all his words.

The film ends with a haunting monologue by Monty’s father, where he explains how Monty’s life will turn out if he runs away instead of going to jail. He closes the monologue with the most poignant line of the film, ‘this life came so close to never happening’. It is now that you realise that the film is all about choices that people make.

The film largely follows the book, but since the book was published before 9/11 and the film made after that, certain subtle changes are made to incorporate that tragedy into the subtext of the storyline. The acting is superb and all the individual characters have been convincingly developed. The internal conflicts that the teacher, the drug dealer and the share broker face are engaging. Monty’s verbal diatribe against New York is memorable, as it turns from funny to sarcastic to plain sad and tragic as Monty realises that he has only himself to blame for all his ills. Throughout the film you are constantly reminded of humanity and the need to bond together. The tragedy of the drug dealer makes you sympathetic to him.

The tone of the film is depressing and haunting yet very powerful. The film combines multiple themes: condemnation, redemption, choice, blame, human relations, culpability and it is difficult to point any one as a dominant one. There is limited humour and even that gets remorseful.

The film is technically good with superb dialogues, score and cinematography. The monologue in the end is accompanied by a brilliant piece by Terrence Blanchard. It enhances the poignant mood of the monologue. Similarly, the scene in which Monty rants out at New York is made more powerful by an accompanying jazz piece.

The film portrays relationships among friends and may force the viewers to analyze their own lives. It may make you question your choices as well as the consequences. But the overall message is very clear: you are responsible for your own choices.

Werner Herzog and Christian Bale on the set of Rescue Dawn

In a column for the Guardian over the weekend, Joe Queenan used A Serious Man to stand in example of movies by directors which stand apart from the rest of their filmography. In the case of A Serious Man, Queenan writes:

A Serious Man falls into that category of films that, for whatever reason, do not have the same texture or mood as a director’s other films. It may be a decision the film-maker has made deliberately, or it may be entirely inadvertent, but these films stand apart from the other movies in a director’s body of work. It is as if the film-maker abruptly decided to take a holiday from his own personality and make a film in somebody else’s style.

He goes on to cite other examples of this theory for great directors. He notes Werner Herzog for Rescue Dawn (“…a well-crafted action picture. And nothing more.“), Spike Lee’s Inside Man (“…certainly doesn’t have the feel of any other Spike Lee film. It is work for hire.“) and Ang Lee with The Hulk (“…one of those catastrophes so bad that its sequel seems like the industry’s personal apology to the movie-going public for what has gone before.“)

He also cites a few examples of better one-offs, such as Scorsese’s Age of Innocence, Eastwood’s The Bridges of Madison County and, inexplicably, Peter Weir’s Green Card.

I’ll leave what he considers good or bad to the side (seriously though, Green Card?) and just comment on the mistake of characterising so many of these films as being far apart from the other work by directors.

A Serious Man may well seem on its face a distance from the defining work of the Coens (Fargo, Lebowski etc.), but the themes at its centre are perhaps as close to a distillation of their career as could be found. The central character is tortured by the world around him (see The Dude in The Big Lebowski, Llewellyn Moss in No Country for Old Men) for  the choices, or lack of decisions, he makes. The entire world in which the film is set seems to beset its citizen with acts of randomness, much in keeping with the nihilistic viewpoint that many detractors, and most supporters, of the brothers would see as an identifying feature of their work.

To wit, Dana Stevens’ review for Slate reads:

A Serious Man unfolds in a moral universe that’s recognizable from earlier Coen films. It’s a cruel and ultimately inexplicable place. What Anton Chigurh, Javier Bardem’s pitiless mass murderer, was to No Country for Old Men, the Hebrew God (whom the characters refer to with the respectful, indirect name of “Hashem”) is to this movie.

Whether you read this as a good or bad feature of the film, there is no doubt that A Serious Man very much fits into the Coens canon. The only difference is that it is so explicitly autobiographical, in the way that perhaps something like Barton Fink, which seems at least partly to reference their experience in working on Miller’s Crossing, never aims for.

Rescue Dawn, Queenan’s citation for Herzog, is another which seems out of step with his oeuvre at first, but the themes once more reveal themselves quite quickly. Specifically, the film entirely fits with Herzog’s fascination with nature as an unforgiving and beautiful foe. This strongly characterised masterpieces like Aguirre, The Wrath of God and Fitzcarraldo, notably in the second in which a man is constrained by nature in achieving his lifelong ambitions. Linked to those two films is the leading man choice.

Klaus Kinski, Herzog’s greatest on-screen collaborator, was both a genius and insane. He would push himself to levels of intensity almost unknown to most actors. Christian Bale, whilst probably not quite in the Kinski league, is a superb actor on his day. He is also a deeply committed performer. Witness the intense weight-loss undertaken for The Machinist, followed by bulking up for Batman Begins and then rinse-repeat for Rescue Dawn and The Dark Knight. Say what you will of Bale, but he wholly commits to Rescue Dawn.

In addition to that, to describe this as just a slick action film seems to wholly miss the personal aspects of the film. As a dramatic retelling of the story of Dieter Dengler, the subject of Herzog’s documentary Little Dieter Needs to Fly, he was attempting to do justice to the story of a man he obviously admired greatly. Whether Queenan likes the film or not, there is no way to describe Rescue Dawn as just a tossed-off slice of popcorn entertainment.

I’ll take the point with Inside Man by Spike Lee – it probably does stand somewhat out of what most people would think of then they think about Spike Lee. By that, and I’m only assuming what Queenan was thinking with this film, this would entail that the film is not explicitly about American racial politics (though, as noted by Ruthe Stein, this does occur a bit) from the standpoint of African-Americans. That’s probably true, but that would be an act of pigeon-holing a director whose work stands well beyond themes of race. Specifically, perhaps more than being an explorer of racial issues, his great skill has often been in exploring New York. Inside Man, for me, stands alongside 25th Hour and Do the Right Thing as a great New York movie.

If you want to take a film from Lee which stands outside the realms of his standard work, try When the Levees Broke, his four-part HBO documentary on Katrina. Though definitely in keeping which exploring the (predominantly) black experience in America, the film has none of the overt political messages that Lee often attempts to hammer home in his work, instead allowing the imagery to speak for itself and letting the actions of the Bush administration hang the whole White House.

The last one to note is Hulk. This argument is much more personal than the others, because I remain one of around seven people in the world that like Hulk’s take on the superhero film. Even so, the themes of Lee’s other work, specifically personal identity, are writ large over the film.

I understand what Queenan was going for and I don’t want to just crap on his taste in film. I would strongly argue, however, that most of the films cited have much in common with other work done by their directors, you just need to dig deeper than the trailer to realise it.

I have the (admittedly annoying) tendency to judge people based on their grammar and spelling habits, even over informal channels such as gchat and texting.  Some have complained that this practice is unfair; but until recently, I thought it was a fair testament to a person’s overall worth.

I admit, I was wrong (at least in one instance).

I’d like to introduce you all to Max (a real NYC friend!).  Not the most grammatically correct gchat or texter (or best Scrabble-er), but good at fixing things and entertaining over a beer.  Fed up with my correcting him and assuming he’s incapable of writing, Max recently decided to prove me wrong, with the following that he wrote on his lunch break from solving white collar crimes.  Please welcome Max and I’d love to hear your thoughts:

From the desk of Max

It is the dead of winter and I am behind enemy lines in Nazi occupied Russia, 60 kilometers from Leningrad. Bundled up in my Red Army issue parka I have taken up position in a stand of trees, perched high above a clearing on the edge of the enemies’ base.

I can faintly hear what I imagine are the punch lines to jokes about killing Jews,
Something like, “eichenschleimenheimer” or “heishdenjewdemkillier.”

Looking through the scope of my Kalashnikov sniper rifle, I’ve identified six Nazi soldiers standing in a circle, huddled together for warmth. I’ve zeroed in on the Swastika emblazoned on the hat of the soldier whose voice I heard right before the group burst in laughter.

I glance at my watch – only eight minutes left before they report back to their posts among the trees. If I don’t move quickly enough I will surely be discovered and killed. I prepare to fire, switching off the safety while carefully positioning myself to kill all six of them in one burst.

Five minutes.

My heart is pounding. My hand trembles. My vision goes in and out of focus. I am exhausted from the long nights in the trees, but there is no room for error.

Three minutes.

Adrenaline takes over, and I go to work.

THWAP. THWAP…THWAP. THWAP. THWAP…

“Shit” I whisper. The sole survivor of my barrage dove to the ground after seeing his companions fall dead in front of him. He scrambled into the wooded area and has sought cover behind a large oak. Precious time ticks away, but he hasn’t discovered my position. 30 seconds left. He peaks his head out from behind the tree. THWAP.

I breathe a sigh of relief and lay my #2 pencil down as I return to the reality of my fluorescently lit LSAT testing center in New York City.

“Please stop writing and lay your pencils down.” booms the proctor. “You will now have a fifteen minute break after which you will begin the final two sections of your exam.”

This is only a practice exam, but that was too close for comfort. You see, since reading David Benioff’s sophomore effort “City of Thieves“, I have developed a proprietary test taking strategy for the LSAT, for which I am currently studying despite my lack of desire to go to law school (long story for another post).

At the onset of my campaign towards LSAT domination, during breaks in my studies, I would read Benioff’s novel to break the monotony of the “Logic Games” section. The novel takes place during WWII, and follows the adventures of a trio of unlikely heroes, one of whom is a Russian sniper. I enjoyed these breaks, which made the LSAT study sessions somewhat bearable, but quickly finished the book, and was left with the emptiness that only multiple choice questions can provide. So rather than thinking of each question as a series of logical premises that lead to “the best possible answer”, I started imagining myself as Vika, the sniper, my pencil as my rifle, and the questions as Nazis. Haven’t missed a question since. December 5th, test day, will be a bloodbath.

As an aside. I would recommend the book highly. Like cotton candy, it’s light, fun, and will give you a little rush, like a sugar high. I haven’t read his first book, The 25th Hour, but Benioff’s screen play adaptation was turned into one of my all time favorite movies, it’s a Spike Lee joint starring Edward Norton. If you haven’t seen it, do so. Shhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiit. (You’ll understand once you’ve seen the movie.)

“You will now have 35 minutes to complete this section. If you finish before time is called, you may check over your previous work from this section only. Do not work on any other section, and please do not disturb the other test takers. You may begin.”

I can see my breath again.

- “The Best of the Decade Project” is an ongoing series of essays written by Match Cuts and The Filmist concerning the finest films of the last ten years.

MATCH CUTS: Spike Lee is very hit or miss with me, but his best films really strike me as unabashed manifesto’s about human weaknesses, prejudices, and assumptions. For me, 25th Hour is his best films because it combines the perfect mixture of Lee’s stylistics with his dynamic view of the world. It’s cinematography, music, and dialogue belong to this very tense vision of the world, obviously influenced by 9/11, but still incredibly personal and tragic.
THE FILMIST: It was interesting watching this film, having just finished his “Malcolm X” again just a day earlier. On the one hand, you have this three hour long, autobiographical epic about a revolutionary public figure, and his exploits from one end of his life to the other. And, on the other, you’ve got “25th Hour,” a small, intimate – for the most part – film following one man’s last days on the outside world, underneath the attitudes and ires bred by September 11th. These two films are, I think, some of Lee’s best. Because, as you wrote in your article for the film, too often he seems to lapse into “howling at the moon,” with films like Bamboozled – which I still enjoy if only because of Savion Glover.
M: I love Bamboozled, but that’s a whole other conversation. But yes, 25th Hour is so contained to the decisions of it’s characters, to the consequences of those decisions, and all the possibilities they will never realize. Each scene is seeped in this extreme melancholy, best represented by Terrence Blanchard’s haunting musical score. It follows Monty, resting heavy on his shoulders in way I’ve never seen in any other film.
F: Yes – the opening scene may be one of my favorites out of Lee’s films. We’re exposed to this Monty character played by Norton, and we’re not quite sure if he’s up to or involved in anything, just yet. But, he finds this dog – and, despite the guys they’ve got waiting on them, the “guys with money,” he decides to put it in his trunk and take it to the vet. And, it’s one of the first times that Lee’s patented “repeat-cut” (I call it) pops up, three times.
M: Which repeats throughout the film, a repetition that is incredibly artificial in way the rest of the film is not, and I’m glad you mentioned the opening scene, because it shows his misguided humanity front and center, it shows his cockiness and compassion in one sequence, the reason he got into this mess in the first place, and the reason his plight is so complex.
F: Yes, it actually gives a small hint as to what’s revealed later about Monty, that the reason he turned to the business that he’d turned to was to help out his family. It’s funny, even in the lighter scenes, there’s an underlying melancholy that’s brought out into the open – as in the club scenes, for example.
M: And this sense of doubt filtering through each character, Monty doubts Natuerelle, Frank judges Monty, then feels guilty for it, Jacob doubts his validity as a person, all while mired in this strange celebration, and for what? Everything is ill-fated, except for the genuine pain that each character feels, the loss is something that can’t be played down. It’s a stunning achievement when you think about the atmosphere of character the film creates.
F: One of the characters I found interesting, even though she’s relatively minor in terms of her presence in the story, is Mary, Jacob’s student. And, before I start talking about the character, I also want to mention how weird it is to see Anna Paquin in 2002 and Anna Paquin in 2009, with “True Blood.” I can’t quite place it, but something’s changed about her.
M: She’s always on the cusp of the frame it seems, and to me she really represents the allure of that dangerous life Monty has brought into his lifestyle. We really see how separate these old friends are, Monty and Jacob, in the sense that Monty dismisses Mary and Jacob sees her as his entire obsession. They have become apart of two separate worlds and never realized it.
F: Yes, and it’s funny the effect she has on Jacob in the club, right after Monty’s told him that he’s “the only honest man in the room, right here.” And, he ends up trying to kiss her, directly afterwards. She seems to be caught on the same kind of downward spiral that Monty fell into. Where at first we see her at the prep school causing king-hell about her grades, which she obviously cares a lot about, the next time we see her, she’s hopped up on E and champagne – it seems to be something a little stronger than a rebellious attitude, which is hinted at with her button tattoo. Also, it’s telling how she says (she says) her mother dismissed such a thing with only, “where did you get the money for that?”
M: I think this falls into the idea that money, which ties into class, consumes each and every character, Frank, who works on Wall Street yells at Natuerelle for not speaking up since she was living a lavish lifestyle, Jacob is independently wealthy, and Monty makes his bad decision based on the need for money. It drives everything in this very personal film. The way money really changes old friendships, perspectives, yet there is still that connection, that memory of loyalty that still rings tru.
F: Indeed. Speaking of, I also found it interesting to see Lee use the same “background moves in the distance as the character stays rooted in the foreground” shot that he used at the end of Malcolm X, after Jacob leaves the bathroom.
M: When the actor is positioned on a dolly with the camera? Yes, that’s a Lee staple, and it creates this surreal atmosphere in the club, but it is just prolonging the inevitable.
F: He seems unhooked from time, almost.
M: Which is fleeting, because time is about to come crashing down.
F: In more ways than one, with Monty’s rebuke of Kostya.
M: Yep. What did you make of the ending? Do you see it as a vision of a future that will never happen, as I do, or do you have a different reading of it.?
F: Well, if I’m being optimistic, then I’d say that it was a possible future that’s left ambiguous by the last shot. But then again, on a rainy day, I think that Monty kind of disregards such notions and decides to face his time – hence the Washington Bridge in the background, and them being on the road toward upstate New York.
M: The mere juxtaposition of a failed future and a failed present makes this film a major achievement. As he looks out the window, he finally realizes that he’s devastated everyone’s life, not just his own.
F: Despite what may have been his best intentions, everyone except the dog comes out worse at the end of this night.
M: Very ironic, although life with Jacob seems very depressing and repressed.
F: Yes. He reminds me of this guy I used to know, actually. Very strange guy – I won’t reveal his story here, but he seemed to have the same kind of mental attitude going on, that same kind of fear.
M: I think the main thing with 25th Hour for me, is that portrays characters in crisis without blowing their guilt or innocent out of proportion, it’s about the complexities in between the stereotypes (as addressed in Monty’s crippling verbal tirade to the mirror), the intricacies of relationships that reveal themselves through traumatic experiences.
F: True. For all his faults, Jacob is still a truly redeemable character. And, I love the immediate silence after his broker friend beats him to a pulp – only the sounds of the birds fluttering in the background, and the dog barking.
M: Absolutely, Lee leaves you with the reality of the situation, the ambient noise lingering, drown out a bit….So if 25th Hour is all about character, then Che: Part 1 is concerned with ideology, a collective birth, a romantic vision of change. But for me, I can’t separate the first film from the second, since it charts the harsh breakdown of that vision. Why choose just the first part of Che for this project?
F: While they’re connected by the sort of causal relationship you mentioned, apart from that, they’re two very different films, stylistically and in their aims – where the first part seems a lot more cohesive and all of that, the second part is by its very nature fractured, and almost deliberately obtuse. And, maybe it’s because I’m an optimist, but it’s the first film, with it’s bombastic and revolutionary nature, is something that appeals to the good old fashioned Communist in me. The second part of Che seems to fall in the same direction as Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ,” in that it’s a constantly hard-luck film for this character for two hours, physically as well as ideologically, pointing out the illogical nature of going in and trying to resurrect the spirit of a people who don’t really want to be “saved.” Which is another reason I kind of prefer using their separate titles, “The Argentine” and “Guerrilla,” hinting at their separate aims and goals.
M: I guess I see them as flip sides to the same coin, and The Argentine is definitely more linear in that it progresses a sequence of events that allude to genre conventions of the War film, it’s also shot in widescreen which gives the film a sweeping visual look that plays into this inherent romanticism. But even then Soderbergh strips these tropes down to the barest essentials, the interactions between Che and Fidel, even the action scenes are disjointed.
F: The action sequences were one of the things I loved about the film, actually – being as I am one of those guys who interested in the whole “kinetic nature of cinema;” not just in action sequences, but they do often serve as some of the best representatives – the way they’re shot with such from-ground immediacy and yet still with such a great emphasis on formal dynamism, as in the first attack on the Sierra Maestra barracks.
M: The building exploding from the bazooka round is really something, it’s almost shocking because the film hasn’t given us anything like that before. There are these moments of grand chaos, like the train flipping off the tracks as well.
F: Yes, the whole portion of the film dedicated to the Battle of Santa Clara, and the fight for control of the tower, is relentlessly breakneck. It was interesting that, here, in the middle of all this, Soderbergh points out prominently Che’s injured arm and his asthma.
M: The scene that really struck me was the moment where he orders the executions of his men that have committed atrocities. It really speaks to the dynamic attention to details that you just mentioned.
F: Oh, certainly. And also, its that scene and a few others that really brings to light one of the weirder aspects of the revolution at the time – the strong, harsh emphasis on capital punishment that Che and Castro used. Small scenes, mentions here and there -and the protesters in New York – signs of what came during the interval years between the first and second films, with Che during his stay at La Cabana’.
M: In both films, especially The Argentine, is this very meticulous, almost bare bones vision of historiography, a re-writing of history in a non-linear fashion. We see the gaps that other films have left out, we see the moments that the history books have ignored. That’s why when critics have called this film too dry of emotion, or distant from the material, I just don’t see it, because Soderbergh has inserted some seriously dynamic material and characters into this important segment of modern history.
F: Yes, I’ll never understand that complaint – it confuses me, especially in contrast to Soderbergh’s film he finished just afterward, The Girlfriend Experience. Now, that was a dry, stagnant film.
M: I haven’t seen it yet, but The Argentine is full of more life than any of his other films, and it’s a criticism that I will never get.
F: Mainstream critics, more and more, are becoming insane. Insane, I tell you. Maybe it’s something in the water.
M: It’s really tough for a weekly critic to get a film like this on one viewing, which is the inherent problem with writing “reviews” as opposed to criticism.
F: Yes, indeed – the only really redeemable critics I’ve found at the moment are Ebert and the three or four cats who occasionally end up in the Dallas Observer, like J. Hoberman.
M: There are plenty of good ones, but Hoberman is the only one to champion this film in the way I thought it deserved. He seems to have an incredible grasp of the way history plays into these sorts of films, and why they are essential. Kent Jones from Film Comment seems to be the other critic that just gets it on a collective level. Soderbergh has made a difficult film that cannot be fully processed on one viewing. There’s just too much going on, which makes it a fascinating piece.
F: Surely. It’s not a film that goes in for easy hero worship, but at the same time, it’s also not one to denigrate or denounce its central title character, as another bunch of people would’ve wanted. He seems to have achieved something entirely other, and that’s left a lot of people disoriented.
M: I agree with that, especially considering how different the two halves are in style, and how unsettling they are when placed together.
F: They do create an interesting contrast. And, it’s in the second film that I think Soderbergh’s approach becomes clear – at the moment of Che’s death. He avoids having him say the rousing, “Shoot, coward! You are only coming to kill a man!” that’s quoted by the one side, or the pleading issued by the other. Instead, he has Che share a look with the guy, and say, “I don’t talk to traitors,” after agreeing that he killed his uncle.
M: Del Toro’s performance is almost entirely conveyed through his eyes, the passion, the longing, the isolation, everything streams through his eyes. Which plays into what you just mentioned.
F: And, I have to say, I love the great contrast the film creates, in between young, clean-shaven Ernesto and bearded, beret wearing Che. Which is one of the reasons that I’m glad the film didn’t stay too long before the boat ride to Cuba. Among other things, we do have “The Motorcycle Diaries,” for that. His is a virtuoso performance – which is one of the reasons he’s quickly becoming one of my most favorite actors. Not that he wasn’t, you know, up there before, but -
M: Well, this an his performance in a little seen near masterpiece, Things We Lost in the Fire, are superb, just great method turns.
F: I haven’t seen TWLitF just yet. Been meaning to get around to it, but something about it just keeps pushing me away. It’s Halle Berry, that’s who it is.
M: She’s great, and I really despise her acting, usually at least. The main thing with The Argentine and the entire project as a whole is that Soderbergh is attempting something grandiose, something altogether rare in Western filmmaking today. A gigantic epic with pertinent ideas on its mind, issues of nationalism, pragmatism, and failed ideologies.
F: Oh, I agree. We haven’t seen one of these in a long while. It’s intriguing the contrast this film creates with his others – your opinion of Spike Lee matches pretty closely my opinion of Soderbergh.
M: It’s interesting how some filmmakers you usually admire but can’t buy into, except for that one instant when their obvious artistry breaks through and hits you on some intrinsic level.
F: Exactly.
M: Of course you have to suffer through a few stinkers to get there.
F: “The Girlfriend Experience” remains an indelible burn on my brain. You don’t know you’re alive until you’ve seen Sasha Grey masturbate some Jewish guy on screen while he talks about why she should vote Republican. When the movie’s finished, you’ve got a whole new outlook on life, really – you made it through.
M: I can’t wait. Sounds invigorating.
F: You’re gonna love it. LOVE IT, I tell you.

Paul Mason is a professor in the UK who has systematically studied prison in cinema.  He wrote a paper called Prison Decayed: Cinematic Penal Discourse and Populism 1995-2005.  Here’s a bit from the abstract:

This paper suggests that discourses around the futility and inhumanity of incarceration are scant, replaced by scenes of prison violence; rape and death appear, which appear to exist purely for the pleasure of the spectator [my italics]: a generic feature of the prison film. Secondly, prisoners are largely constructed as an inhuman other: a danger to society and deserving of harsh punishment. Consequently, the discursive regime of prison in cinema over the past decade constructs prison as not only necessary, but as the only process for crime control and reduction.

Ok, that sounds like a pretty compelling thesis to me.  But as a member of the audience, I’m worried that kind of thinking will destroy my relationship with movies.  I think it’s already happened to Mr. Mason.

Take Mason’s interpretation of 25th Hour.  Nominally this is a movie about Monty’s last day of freedom before going to prison.   Monty, played by Edward Norton, does not really want to go to there.  He’d prefer to hang with his lovely girlfriend in his lovely Manhattan apartment.  So he spends most of his time moping around confused and angry.  He spends about 30 seconds expressing his fear of being raped and mutilated in prison.

“…Somebody takes a pipe out from under a mattress, starts beating me in the face, not to hurt me, just to knock all my teeth out so I can give him head all out and they don’t have to worry about me biting..”

It’s a vivid speech, but in the context of the film it’s a blip, and not even all that shocking. Mason seizes on it to reiterate his thought:

Without showing any of this, 25th Hour contributes to the discourse of prison constructed in previous cinematic narratives, where jail is synonymous with sexual assault and interpersonal violence. These initial scenes, and in the case of 25th Hour the entire film, help to fix the meaning of imprisonment, to frame the discourse of incarceration, as cruel and sadistic. However, while such scenes could form part of a critique of prison as a criminal justice sanction the vindictiveness and pointlessness of custody the dominant discourse remains entrenched in the violence itself rather than in denunciation of it.

The thing is, Mason is reading this film all wrong.  Sure it reads like it’s about going to prison.  And if you only had the script you might think that was the point.  If you look at what’s on screen, and when, it’s pretty obvious that this film is an homage to the people of New York City.  Specifically, New York City post 9/11.

Spike Lee was the first filmmaker to put this image onscreen in the raw year of 2002

Still an open wound.

I mean, it strikes me as negligent that someone would suggest Spike Lee doesn’t know anything about prison.  Spike Lee!  You know man, Do the Right Thing, Jungle Fever, Bamboozled, Malcom X, When the Levees Broke.  You know Spike Lee, and so does Mr. Mason.  Just because he puts a frightened white guy on screen and

Monty’s nervousness about going to prison might as well be nervousness about getting kicked off the Basketball team.  It’s a vehicle for reflecting on a very unique moment.  There’s this, I guess a montage, where Monty says “fuck you” to every single ethnic group and class in New York.  And when his tirade is over, I feel like, well, he loves these people and so does Spike Lee.

Anyhow, I’m just saying I don’t want to miss the forest for the trees.

Un freestyle grav semnat Lil` Boosie si familia Bad Ass Ent. , piesa End Of Time va face parte de pe mixtape-ul 25th Hour . Mult prea TARE !!!

Via: OnSmash .

Have you seen Spike Lee’s 25th Hour?  This scene exemplifies the amazing direction of the movie, along with Edward Norton’s acting (which every film he’s in does; dude can do no wrong).  Why aren’t these two working together all the time?  Probably because being that awesome is exhausting.

When the scene focuses on just Ed’s face, with the one light shining in from the left–that shot is gorgeous.

NSFW:

“This Where I Belong / A Perfect Spot To Be / Not Lookin’ Like You Is The Perfect Spot For Me”

Get these mixtapes asap!

Either way, there’s a reason for the 25th hour.

Jason

beautiful dreamer
wake unto me…
starlight and dewdrops
are waiting for thee…*

Have you ever had a dream so real that when you woke, you thought that the real world was the dream?

Sometimes it’s difficult, isn’t it? To distinguish between dreams and reality. The line between what is real and what is in your head being so thin that a breath of wind shifts you to either end.

a dream is a wish your heart makes
when you’re fast asleep…**

Perhaps your dreams reflect the things that you wish you could do or the things that you’d never ever do in real life. And maybe your dreams are completely nonsensical.

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?***

Hold on to your dreams, even if they swerve off into the ‘taking over the world’ lane. If they do, we’ll help.

* Beautiful Dreamer – Roy Orbison
** A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes – Cinderella Song
*** Dream Deferred – Langston Hughes

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