2006 in Film

            This year I'm just releasing a top 25, and frankly, you could probably switch my entire 25 around to whichever order you prefer, because 2006 was not a good year for movies, and even the best were all of similar quality.  To elaborate a little, this year saw a lot of really good movies, but even the ones filling up my top 10 are quite flawed in themselves, some rambling on a little too long, some lacking clarity, and some picking style over substance.  Ironically, or perhaps not so ironically, the box office recovered and even made some records this year, but after the glory that was 2005, I have been left more than a little cold by even this year's big hits.  Let's start with the blockbusters:  The Da Vinci Code was boring enough to prevent me from even cracking the book, and Tom Hanks' mullet left much to be desired.  X-Men 3 practically ruined my favorite Marvel franchise, and honestly, I'm pulling for Spiderman over X-Men these days.  Superman Returns was generally great, but way too long and frankly preposterous (Lex Luthor's big plan, specifically) for me to really get into.  So many movies this year (Running With Scissors, All the King's Men, The Black Dahlia, The Good Shepherd, The Good German, Death of a President, etc.) seemed so good, only to turn out mediocre or worse.   

            And then we have the big critical raves.  What's that one that everyone's been talking about and picking for Oscar season?  Oh right, Dreamgirls.  I really liked that film.  Really liked.  As in, I could easily watch it again.  But as a film it was merely good, poppy and entertaining, but limited by its adherence to cliches in the generic story of the rise and fall of a music group.  The acting was wonderful, especially the three Dreamgirls, Jamie Foxx, Eddie Murphy, and Danny Glover, but I always ask myself, "What is the point of this film?" after viewing, and for Dreamgirls, I couldn't come up with anything.  United 93 was great when I saw it, but will I ever watch it again?  Probably not.  Not because the film was too powerful, but because it just wasn't that interesting apart from being "true."  If the film were based on fictional events, I doubt it would have the emotional resonance that it does--but then, I suppose that doesn't even matter, because September 11th happened whether we like it or not.  Even Pixar finally lost out with the okay Cars.  Maybe it's just that I'm not as interested in R&B, 9/11, or cars and americana as I am in space, film noir, cowboys, and the Middle East (to clarify, this is a comparison of the themes of last year's movies and this year's).  But I've always felt that a great movie could interest me in something I didn't even know I cared about, like Pride and Prejudice or Hotel Rwanda. 

            I believe that such a wide variety of films topping the various best-of lists this year is telling--so many films were so close in quality, but none were so outstanding as to be the obvious frontrunners, like Return of the King or Brokeback Mountain.  All that said, I really am quite happy with my top 25, even though most of them are flawed in some way.  They are movies that I will hopefully revisit often, and most of the top 10 at least I have already seen twice or more.  And honestly, if a year as bad as this can produce 25 movies that I really enjoyed, then there's hope for 2007 after all (just check out my upcoming movies page for proof). 

            Finally, and this is unrelated to 2006 being a sucky year, so if you're tired of me ranting about that, then this is your reprieve, I would like to say that I enjoy subordinate clauses, of which this is an example.  Actually, though, I was going to say how influential seeing a movie in a theater is to me.  Of my top 10 films this year, I saw 10 in theaters--but to be fair, I only had seen 9 of them in theaters when I originally ranked them--and looking back, the same is true for both 2005 and 2004, where I saw 9 of my top 10 theatrically.  I can't believe I'm just now figuring this out about myself.  Obviously theaters enhance the picture size and quality, really immersing you in a film in a way even the best screeners can't, but to me, it's much more than that.  For one, I just like getting out and going to the movies.  It's such a historic activity, right down to getting concessions before finding seats.  And then, of course, the sound, when it's not too loud or too quiet, can be so integral, especially in movies where sound is a key factor, like Children of Men or Babel, or ones with incredible soundtracks, like The Departed and Marie Antoinette.  Even the trailer reel preceding the movie enhances my experience, getting me in the mood and building excitement in me for movies that are coming out soon (usually...).  Now that the Station has competing theaters that drove the cost of tickets down to $4, I hope to see all my big 2007 favorites in a theater.   

UPDATE:  First, I'd like to say that 2006 really shaped up in January of 2007.  Even when I first compiled this list, I was thinking how it wasn't as bad as it seemed at first.  But now that I've seen even more films from 2006, and two that I haven't, Inland Empire and Letters From Iwo Jima, are almost certain to make my list, it really turned out pretty good.  I still think I'd take 2005's movies to this year's, but it's pretty close, all things considered.  Maybe it's just that there were so many disappointments, so they overshadowed all the surprises.  Anyway, I also finally found some recurring themes this year, like the prevalent violence of 2005's movies.  Enjoy: 

First, I've found that the youth of the world are given great responsibility, and generally fail miserably.  Just see Marie Antoinette or The Last King of Scotland or The Science of Sleep (which is a failure of any responsibility, not just worldly matters).  The cause of such failure:  usually preoccupation with fun (omg, it's like 2006 in cinema is about me!)  Marie was too busy enjoying her lavish parties and pitying herself, Dr. Garrigan was too busy enjoying women and that gorgeous accent of his, and Stephane was too busy, well, avoiding real life.  Add to this list Ofelia from Pan's Labyrinth, who I'd say was left no other option than retreat into her world of fun, but in the end, the same outcome:  she died and the world sucked.  Of course, adults also tend to make stupid decisions, as seen in basically every movie, but for a condensed version, Notes on a Scandal, Babel, Bubble, The Departed, Volver, Half Nelson, The Fountain....  Brick's hero triumphed in the end, but it was a little more cynical, pitting everyone who tried to play him against each other, and at the end of the day, Emily's still dead in a ditch.  In fact, almost every major movie this year displayed massive pessimism--the world is going to hell in a broken-down, yellow VW Bug.  Speaking of Little Miss Sunshine, it's no wonder it's getting all this attention.  It's practically the only film to show some hope.  That's not strictly true, actually, but it's the most obvious hopeful movie of the year.  When you look closely, though, a lot of movies gave us some hope.  Children of Men saved humanity on a ship named Tomorrow, and Theo died to save the world, unlike Marie Antoinette or Nicholas Garrigan.  Borat achieved his goal of proposing to Pamela Anderson, but in the end found true companionship with Azamat and that hooker.  And each storyline of Babel was resolved with forgiveness and compassion, and almost no one, surprisingly, died (except those dirty Moroccans).  There's a George Reeves everywhere you look, but as long as we take something positive away, the world has some hope. 

And now, I present, my ranked list of 2006 in movies, with a standard deviation of 4.78 places.  But I would suggest not reading about a movie you haven't seen, because I have been fairly loose with spoilers.

Still haven't seen:  Inland Empire, Letters From Iwo Jima

2006:  The Year of the Eh Late Bloomers

30:  Hollywoodland--I just watched this earlier today so it's early placement here may be a fluke, but regardless, I really enjoyed this movie.  Ben Affleck is heartbreaking in the best performance in a film of uniform excellence, but this is Adrien Brody's story, as his sleazy PI investigates Affleck's George Reeves' death, coming up with several plausible explanations and in the end, coming out a changed man.  His character arc puts him in scenes with Diane Lane, Caroline Dhavernas, and Robin Tunney, and each actress surprisingly held their own with Brody.  Also, the film is, I'd say, mismarketed, in that it's not about the death of George Reeves, and it's not so much a film noir detective story, but it's about Hollywood in the '40s.  Back then, the studios owned their actors, PI's were not glamorous but less than ethical inevitabilities, everyone in showbiz was corrupt, and all of these worked to control Hollywood.  I have a fetish for movies about Hollywood (so, apparently, does Hollywood), so I'm quite pleased that Hollywoodland turned out to be such an examination of the movie biz. 

29:  Volver-- Pedro Almodovar was robbed of an Oscar nomination.  Now, I have only seen one of the foreign film nominees as of now, but I have seen an unprecedented (for me) number of foreign films this year, and Volver ranks near the top.  It's about--well, it's too great to spoil.  What I knew going in was that it involved a ghost and Penelope Cruz, and that's sufficient knowledge for you as well.  Cruz was great, mostly in her gigantic hairdo, but Almodovar showed the greatest talent, imbuing the film with the essence of Fellini's Amarcord (an analogy I am pleased to see Ebert echo in his review, because I felt the connection was incredibly powerful).  All the women (there are almost no male characters) turn in wonderful performances, really grounding the craziness in their close, obviously meaningful family connections. 

28:  Bubble--Steven Soderbergh's indie experiment (released in theaters on the same day as it was shown on pay-per-view and arrived in stores on DVD) was also one of the best-reviewed movies of the year.  Despite the trailers not really showing what the movie was about, I knew I had to check it out after everyone gave it an A, and I'm so glad I did.  The three main characters are all unknowns who are non-professional actors, which, along with the improvisation of most of the dialogue, lends to the naturalistic feel of the entire movie.  In fact, I would claim that Bubble is a direct response to naturalism in art, particularly Steinbeck.  I am deliberately avoiding the plot, because this movie is just better to watch without preconceived notions, such as that it will be about a scary doll factory. 

27:  Down in the Valley--I almost didn't get to see this before posting the list, but I'm so glad I did.  Edward Norton is incredible in this film, as one would expect, and Evan Rachel Wood rounds out a year (make that career) of great performances here as well.  I liked most that the film is very far from what one would expect of it, hence my aversion to revealing any of the details of the film.  It's almost an anti-western, except unlike McCabe and Mrs. Miller, it uses modern day life to show the end of the West and turn western conventions on their heads.  For an example, just check out the setting of the climax.  I'm afraid to put it too high, having just seen it and only once, but this is one that could slide on up the ranks with time. 

26:  Strangers With Candy--I laughed so hard during this film.  "Are you thinking about signing up for the science fair?"  "No, I was thinking about pussy.  Science fair's for queers."  And:  "If your hand comes into my chow zone again, you're taking back a bloody stump."   Finally:  "It's like the time you set that boat on fire and watched those Haitians panic.  Oh wait, that was me.  The point is, you're a racist."  Strangers With Candy is an outstanding parody of after-school specials, skewering everything from first-day-of-school anxiety to infidelity--a lot of infidelity.  Amy Sedaris is incredibly as Jerri Blank, but the movie would not be so great without the supporting cast of Stephen Colbert, Paul Dinello, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Allison Janney, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Matthew Broderick.  Now I really have to see the t.v. series. 

And now, The Top 25:

25:  A Scanner Darkly--This is the film L and I saw after buying tickets to Snakes on a Plane and then deciding it would suck without a big audience (and probably even then).    Phillip K. Dick wrote the story, and it is profoundly autobiographical, focusing on the effects of drug use on a group of friends, including a cop, played by Keanu Reeves.  The atmosphere of paranoia gradually builds to an intense and even cathartic climax that deals with the fates of Reeves, Winona Rider, Robert Downey Jr, and Woody Harrelson.  Expect this one to go up on the list after I get a chance to rewatch it.  

24:  Feast--Okay, this isn't even a guilty pleasure.  I'm really sad b/c it had been #15 until this past week or so.  But 19 is still phenomenal for a Project Greenlight movie, especially considering The Battle of Shaker Heights.  Hopefully Guli will outlast Kyle and Efram in the movie biz.  Back to the movie, though, Feast is far from your typical horror movie, and it's far from your typical horror-comedy (as in Shaun of the Dead).  This is established in the first few minutes, as the characters are introduced TheGoodTheBadAndTheUgly-style, and the hero who comes to save the day is immediately dispatched and replaced by The OC's (TEAR!!! WHY DOES IT HAVE TO END?!) Teresa a.k.a. Heroine.  The body count is expectedly high, but the deaths are always fun to watch, as are the stories that play out between the patrons of the bar.  I highly recommend checking it out, and the only reason it's not higher is because a lot of movies came out this year that had substance, but if you're just looking for a fun experience, Feast is the way to go. 

23:  Notes on a Scandal--This film was such a writerly one, in that the story as a whole, though I was watching it, felt like a novel.  The characters are all trapped in cycles of doom, which was probably writer Patrick Marber's main message, given the ending.  I can't take credit for this, but I read a review (maybe Moriarty's?) that said the film is about the things that we do to sabotage ourselves, which is an eloquent way of tackling something I think we can all agree happens, and for reasons we really don't understand.  I'll never know what compels me to procrastinate, other than simple immediate gratification.  Back to my cycles of doom.  Cate Blanchett plays new art teacher Sheba Hart, who begins a hott affair with a 15-year-old (who, as she justifies, will be 16 soon and is mature for his age--I'm sure Mary Kay Letourneau had the same defense), and it turns out, her much older husband did the same with her when she was his student (but in college, if I remember correctly).  Judi Dench soon forms a one-sided passionate lesbian affair with Sheba, at least, in her deranged head she does, which she had done with a former teacher, and seemingly, will do again with random bench lady.  I know we're supposed to learn from our mistakes, but it doesn't always happen, and it's nice to see that this can be portrayed without being extremely annoying (See:  The OC Season 3 wherein NOBODY has learned a thing in the past two years of "growth").  Also, Dench and Blanchett and Bill Nighy and object-of-Hart's-affair Andrew Simpson are all extremely wonderful, but for me the real pleasure came from two aspects:  Judi Dench critiquing anything and everything with (to quote Alec Baldwin from 30 Rock) "the boldness of a much younger woman," and a bite that has been carefully improved for all her years of loneliness.  And from any scene between Dench and Blanchett, either watching Dench begin to spin her nasty web, watching Blanchett going out of her way to be a good friend to Dench, or watching the pair finally confront each other in one of the most thrilling fights between women on film in recent years--totally All About Eve style. 

22:  Apocalypto--The more I think about Apocalytpo, the more I fall in love.  Obviously a response to the critical lauding of The New World, Apocalypto features more southern natives, as the Aztec Jaguar Paw flees Incan captivity in order to rescue his pregnant wife and child who hid from the Incans in a cave they are now trapped in.  The first hour introduces us to the Aztec tribe, the jungle, and finally the Incans in a scary-ass raid, and the rest of the movie is a frenetic chase through the jungle, featuring all kinds of wildlife, tribal weapons, a dangerous river-crossing, and a climax that is best described as interesting.  Supposedly there is some kind of political commentary to the movie, but you won't notice because you'll be too busy wondering how Jaguar Paw's gonna make it through this next obstacle.  I almost can't believe it, but Mel Gibson is clearly a filmmaker to keep and eye on, regardless of his drunken rantings. 

21:  The Science of Sleep--This, like Marie Antoinette or Pirates (whoa, I'm speaking almost directly to Ryan now), is a film I can understand not everyone loving.  That is, while I loved it, just like the other two, I wouldn't necessarily recommend it to everyone, and that's important.  These movies are my favorites of the year, but I can understand why not everyone loved them, and they should understand why I didn't go ga-ga for others (i.e. Dreamgirls, United 93, etc.--although some films, like Children of Men, should by all rights be universally adored).  The Science of Sleep is as hard to like as its lead character, Stephane, who is a selfish child in a man's (fine) body who, just like me, wishes the world were a lot cooler than it is.  He's an artist who is forced to work a desk job doing busy work, but in his free time, he's busy escaping the world of his mother and her new boyfriend who is a completely tool in favor of a fantasy life with his neighbor.  Together the pair create art, although for what purpose, it is never explained.  The two are probably busy just enjoying each other, although the girl, Stephanie, soon realizes that his fantasy life with her is overpowering his real one.  Speaking of his fantasy life, he invents a time-traveling device, but it can only go back one second.  He motorizes her stuffed horse so that it can be free, something which he cannot be.  And he runs a variety news, cooking, and entertainment show in his own head, from where he operates his eyelids.  Gondry's visual flair is so beautifully unified throughout, that I fell completely in love with Stephane's dreams, as well as the film itself.  Also, I'd say there's a lot of Stephane in me, the part that is the Toys R Us kid who never wants to grow up, the part that wishes creativity were universally valued over unforgiving logic, and the part of me that will soon not be able to afford being a Romantic.  I hope that doesn't sound either mopey or braggy (as Pam would say), because I'm just trying to say that I sort of identify with Stephane, and I like that and those qualities we share.  Which is why it sucks that, like Brazil, there's no place for that in the world. 

20.  The Prestige--I feel confident in asserting that Christopher Nolan, Christian Bale, and Michael Caine form an invincible bond.  It's like they have rings that link together like a Mercedes hood ornament.  The Prestige is based on a graphic novel about rival magicians in historic London (also various locations in America), and how obsession controls (some would say destroys) their lives.  Hugh Jackman is devoted to his fiance, and after her death he becomes obsessed with destroying the life of her "murderer" (was she really murdered though, or was it an accident?), and Christian Bale is obsessed with both his trade of magic and ruining Jackman's life.  Both turn in phenomenal performances (this year has a lot of great ones, btw), backed up by a perfect supporting cast of Michael Caine, Scarlett Johansson and Andy Serkis.  The Prestige has slightly more tricks up its sleeve than The Illusionist, and the payoff is even stronger, particularly because the movie is so much longer, and yet I did not want it to end.  In conclusion, Christian Bale is a god. 

19:  Blood Diamond--Okay, I so did not want to see this movie, and I can only blame the trailer and ad department.  Also the endless trailers and t.v. spots for the horribly mediocre-looking Catch a Fire, about Apartheid-era South Africa.    Blood Diamond, btw, is not just about the diamond black market in Sierra Leone.  It touches on million-person refugee camps, foreign intervention/exploitation, the brainwashing of children, gang warfare, and essentially the chaos of Africa.  The disparity between the British and the Chinese in the Painted Veil (set in the 1940s) is akin to that of the Europeans and the Africans in this film, set in the late 1990s.  I was set to hate Leonardo Di Caprio, but I loved him from the start, and the accent never seems affected.  Djimon Housou and Jennifer Connelly are also both wonderful.  Connelly has a scene where she's frustrated trying to write her article that sold me on the character and the movie.  Even though she knows her writing the article and outing the diamond black market, nothing will change because Africa is that far-gone. 

18:  Stranger than Fiction--This is an incredibly sweet movie, and I mean that in multiple ways ("Flours!  I get it!  That's soooo clever!").  It also happens to be surprisingly substantial.  To me, the film ended the only way it could have based on the beginning.  Will Ferrell is perfect as a slightly OCD, straight (as in, not funny) man who gains a lust for life as soon as it becomes clear it is about to be taken from him.  Emma Thompson plays the author of his story, neurotic and compulsive as they come; every choice Thompson makes is perfect for her character, right down to how she sits.  The Brits breed 'em well.  The supporting cast of Buster Bluth, Dustin Hoffman, and Maggie Gyllenhaal provide the perfect support to Harold Crick, and they are all complemented greatly by the music of Spoon.  Also, the movie is occasionally surprisingly stylized, as in the beginning scenes featuring Crick's pseudo OCD. 

17:  A Prairie Home Companion--Why did Robert Altman have to die?!  WHY?!  In any event, A Prairie Home Companion is the perfect elegy for the acclaimed American maverick (I like that word).    The film is about the closing of a relatively unimportant radio show that should have gone out long ago and that no one really will notice passing.  It's a quiet tragedy, and one that is not exploited for sympathy but rather taken as an opportunity to go out on top.  All the actors are great, but the highlights for me were Lily Tomlin and God, I mean, Meryl Streep as singing sisters.  I could listen to them telling stories for much longer than I got to. 

16:  Perfume:  The Story of a Murderer--I really enjoyed Perfume.  I kind of always knew I would, based solely on Run, Lola, Run and the weird-ass storyline, but the film may have even exceeded expectations.  Ben Whishaw plays Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, a child who is born in the middle of a fish market to a no-nonsense peasant who doesn't have time or money to care for him, and he is promptly abandoned.  Perhaps it was due to being born in a place of such strong odors, but whatever the reason, Grenouille realizes that he has an acute ability to understand the sense of smell, an ability that soon obsesses him.  His adventures are generally picaresque, a style that is rarely used in today's "inventive" cinema of seemingly unrelated, interconnecting storylines and flashbacks and -forwards, but I really enjoyed that Grenouille went from the orphanage to the docks (or wherever, I forget where he was working) to the employ of Dustin Hoffman's perfumer.  Did I mention that every time he leaves someone, they die, which is not to say that he keeps them alive, but rather that he results in their deaths, even when it's not physically his fault.  It's far more supernaturally connected to his aura of depravity.  Grenouille sees no right or wrong, he sees only his lust, which is not sexual but olfactory, and does whatever he can to quench his thirst, which as all serial killers can attest to, is one that can never be quenched.  I found all the performances engaging, although at first Hoffman's Italian accent was both annoying and incomprehensible, but after the first introduction he got clearer, and it may have just been my copy of the film.  Particularly engrossing was Alan Rickman, who I didn't even know was in the film, but who was up to his usual level, which is to say, perfection.  I'll stop blabbering on about this film, but Tom Tykwer, after seeing Run, Lola, Run, this, and his short for Paris Je T'aime, is rapidly rising on my list of favorite directors, appearing to be very versatile, but always with a dose of weird. 

15:  For Your Consideration--This one certainly lived up to expectations.  And then some.  I thought just from the trailers that I knew most of the plot and that the humor was going to come from the characters, but there were a couple surprises plotwise that I won't spoil.  Catherine O'Hara was extraordinary here, just absolutely perfect in every scene, and she does get to play two very different versions of the same inner person.  Parker Posey, though, was a surprise, because all the buzz focused on O'Hara, as life imitated art, it would same.  But Posey puts up a front of false nobility about her craft, the kind that can only come from insane jealousy.  The entire cast, seasoned Christopher Guest veterans, were as great as expected, highlights being Fred Willard and Jane Lynch's entertainment reporters, Ed Begley, Jr. as Dean Cyrus O'Dell (or so I assumed), and Harry Shearer as Victor Allan Miller.  Oh, and Jennifer Coolidge as producer Whitney Taylor Brown.  As far as completely inept agents go, I prefer Stephen Merchant on Extras to Eugene Levy, but Levy was still wonderful.  Not only was the film hilarious, but it was completely spot-on in its attack on awards season, which I feel qualified to say since I really get into awards season as well. 

14:  Half Nelson--I've only seen this one once, but I want to see it again really badly.  I could easily see it stealing a spot or two.  Ryan Gosling is this year's Felicity Huffman, in that he gives a tour-de-force as an original character (as in, not based on real life like Queen Elizabeth or Idi Amin...I'm really getting sick of strict imitation as acting--something I feel Helen Mirren transcends as the Queen herself, btw).  He plays an inner-city teacher who is seen as kind of a dork by his students (which I don't get--I mean, look at him--and I mean this as a true criticism of the film) and who has not been able to break his dependency on drugs.  Shareeka Epps plays his student and member of the basketball team he coaches who catches him getting stoned in the bathroom and shares his secret.  From there, he becomes protective of her while finding himself drawn deeper and deeper, but the film does not go where you'd expect.  Nobody dies as a result of drug use, and the two don't become friends for life.  The film's not that easy, and for that it should be applauded.  Epps, by the way, should be in the lead acting categories, in my opinion, as she holds the other half of the movie on her own, and hers is a character arc resulting in growth, just like Gosling. 

13:  The Queen--Here's an example of a great movie making me realize I cared about something I didn't know I cared about.  I remember Princess Diana's death--the funeral was on tv for like a week.  But I had no idea that Tony Blair had been elected just months prior, and that Queen Elizabeth was apparently publicly tight-lipped about the affair to the displeasure of Britons everywhere.  Helen Mirren deserves all the attention she's getting, and Martin Sheen as the new Labor Prime Minister deserves more than he's getting, carrying the other parts of the film with a combination of charming naivete and determined competence.  I highly recommend seeing this film and just soaking up the behind-doors Britishness. 

12:  Little Children--I have nothing new to say about this movie.  I enjoyed it overall, especially stylistic techniques like the narration and the thematically-perfect script.  Over and out.  UPDATE:  I decided to write some more, because on my widescreen (did I mention my computer Harry Potter has a widescreen?), the pictures run into each other because I had just written one measly sentence about this absolutely incredible work.  I'd say the highlight of this film was the writing, done by Tom Perotta (author of the book and screenplay) and Todd Field (director and screenwriter), just like Alfonso Cuaron was the highlight of Children of Men or Helen Mirren for the Queen.  The writing was, as stated, incredible, perfectly suburban-ironic.  The scene in the picture is one of the first in the film, and it sets up the tone of longing and imprisonment amidst the earnest ignorance in a hilarious manner.  And of course, the Madame Bovary book club.  I just love any scene with Kate Winslet and the Little Children version of the OC's Newpsies.  Did I mention I have a kind of crush on Patrick Wilson.  I think that's as valid a reason as any to love a movie.  Also, my undying love for my favorite actress Kate Winslet.  Oh yeah, I should probably mention that Jackie Earle Haley and that chick playing his mom were both extraordinary.  Their storyline is sooo moving, too, because even though I'm extremely creeped out by Haley (and yes, for me, this means every movie he's in from now on, I will be grossed out), I really feel for his mother and even him occasionally.  Finally, JCon rounds out a year of surprising greatness in such an unusual performance (for her) that I couldn't help but heavily consider her for the BMAs. 

11:  The Last King of Scotland--Was this ever a surprise.  Based on the story of a fictional doctor who becomes personal advisor to savage Idi Amin in Uganda, the story is a blend of fact and fiction, but that's clearly my preferred flavor of biopic.  I can only take enough "true stories" with powerhouse performances in mediocre movies (I'm looking at you, Ray), so when writers like the terrific Peter Morgan take some liberties in their stories, I'm not one to complain.  Yes, Forest Whitaker was great.  Do I think he deserves Best Actor?  No, and not even for the same reason I didn't give it to Hoffman last year.  While I do tend to favor completely fictional characters as opposed to the form of impression/mimicry present in most biopics, I also see that Idi Amin is such a cartoon and the story sets him up so well that Whitaker's work was practically done for him.  Of course, he was amazing still, but I'm just saying I wouldn't say it's the best lead male performance of the year (but Gosling has many more years ahead).  Also, I have to note that James McAvoy was just as good as Whitaker, in fact carrying the heft of the film.  While Amin is unpredictable, he's hard to empathize with, but with McAvoy, he's just a kid who, to quote Jarhead, got lost on the way to college, so to speak.  So when he ends up scared for his life and unable to escape, the audience feels it too, and the film just gets heavier and heavier.  There's certainly a chance my absolute love for this underrated film will decrease a little (I mean, it's followed by Little Children, The Queen, and Half Nelson!), but I honestly don't see that happening any time soon.  Maybe it's my love of Africa, which some would call the Lost Continent, but I would call, for now anyway, the Vogue Continent (See:  The Constant Gardener, Babel, Blood Diamond, Hotel Rwanda, etc.). 

10:  The Fountain--The Fountain is so much more of an experience than a straight-up chronological narrative, a device you may have noticed that I very much enjoy.  After all the anti-Fountain backlash, I read a defender's article asking:  In a world where each week at the theaters sees a new sequel, lame comedy, or uninspired horror film, why are we so quick to condemn failed attempts at innovation?  I completely agree.  I'd rather see a failed Fountain (this film, for clarity's sake, I would not regard as a failure) than a pointless rehash of cliches like Dreamgirls.  You can quote me on that.  Back to the film, I felt that this movie expertly builds emotion and contemplation.  It's a very personal film, one that I can understand would not mean the same things to the same people, but I felt it deals with many subjects that I love, like astronomy, geometry, geography, the Colonial era, writing and literature, and technological innovation.  More empirically, I felt the acting was great from both Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz in their triple roles, and Clint Mansell's scoring heightened the effect of the film powerfully.  The effects were wonderful, just check out the trailer for proof of that.  The Fountain may not have fulfilled expectations--and I suppose that's really what your enjoyment is based on--but it certainly took brave risks, and at least for me, it succeeded. 

9:  Pirates of the Caribbean:  Dead Mans' Chest--I'm still not quite sure if I liked Dead Man's Chest more than Curse of the Black Pearl, but for now, the answer is yes.  Elizabeth gained much more of the foreground in this installment, which is great because Knightley was wasted in the first one.  True, Jack Sparrow's storyline had an abundance of repeated jokes from the first one--that grew tiring--but he also had an amazing entrance yet again as well as a great conclusion.  Also, Jack Sparrow is such an asshole, and in this film, it comes through in everything he does.  The first one can be construed as him never actually risking the lives of Will or Elizabeth for profit, but in this one, it is absolutely certain that he does risk both their lives.  And it's not even cute or funny, it's just incredibly selfish.  I'm happy Disney didn't shy away from turning their lead character into such a jerk.  Then we have Norrington, who absolutely ruled; I like Pirate Norrington much more than Commodore Norrington.  Even better were the new characters, Squid-headed Davey Jones, Bootstrap Bill, and Tia Dalma the fortune-teller.  I'm so glad these three will be in the finale with the others!  True, the film didn't exactly end...but in a way it did exactly what it set out to do.  They may not have salvaged Davey Jones' heart, or rescued Bootstrap Bill, or any real objective, but the film gave us time for the series to go dark, to kill off (if only so he can be saved) Jack Sparrow, after making him fairly evil, ruining the Elizabeth/Will romance, and setting up Norrington with the British Navy and the East India Trading Company as the new villain.  Finally, I must say that I am thrilled with this Elizabeth/compass revelation:  is Jack truly the thing she wants most?  I certainly hope so, if only to leave Orlando Bloom crying in a corner.  Notice how I hadn't mentioned him by name until the end. 

8:  Marie Antoinette--I have no idea why people hated Marie Antoinette.  It wasn't strictly factual, but that was stated from the get-go.  Rather, it's like an Impressionist portrait of the hated French queen.  The film largely consists of extended vignettes about Marie's life--her arrival in Versailles and homesickness, her attempts to get her husband the King to consummate their marriage, her tryst with the HOT military guy, her time alone in her garden house.  I love that the film stayed away from being too constrained by the factual events of her life and took on a much more stylish bent.  Dunst turned in an impressive performance as a girl younger than I am placed in charge of a foreign nation itching for revolution, and this is important as Dunst kept the character from becoming unsympathetic even at her most extravagant.  Schwartzmann is as great as you'd expect, barely acknowledging his bride at their first dinner together, but really no one else in the story matters, because it's not about them, and it's not really about Marie.  It's about isolation, at its worst in loneliness, at its height in meditation, and the freedom and constraint that it entails.  I remember reading that Coppola at one point considered using Converse shoes in the film, but took it out.  Frankly, I think Converses would have felt right at home in Coppola's Versailles, you know, the one that was booed at Cannes.  But anything that pisses off the French is sure to make me a fan. 

7:  The Departed--Scorsese's back, apparently, although I, personally, had no idea he was ever gone.  The Departed is essentially an increasingly more labyrinthine series of interactions among Jack Nicholson's mob boss, Matt Damon as his mole in the state police, Leonardo DiCaprio as the cops' mole in the mob, Martin Sheen and Mark Wahlberg as the only cops who know DiCaprio's true identity, and Alec Baldwin as the cop in charge of finding the mole in his department.  The film is incredibly well-organized, although much of the credit there lies with the original, Hong Kong thriller Infernal Affairs, and the suspense builds as Leo and Matt get deeper and deeper in their respective double-lives until you don't know (I didn't anyway) who to root for or what was gonna happen.  Vera Farmigia, as the psychiatrist who gets involved with both moles, was pretty good, but I'm happy Scorsese left her on the sidelines for the most part, as the six seasoned pros went at it, chewing up the script ("How's your mother?"  "She's on her way out."  "We all are, act accordingly.") and the action with great finesse.  If I had one complaint, it's that the film seems to lack great meaning or much new to say, but start watching the film anyway.  I guarantee that won't matter. 

6:  Pan's Labyrinth--The first time I saw this movie, it was a screener I downloaded and loved.  Last night, I got to see it again, in theaters, and it's proven it worth among my top 10.  The film opens with a shot of Ofelia, dead on the stone tablet, which, when I saw it the first time, I had forgotten almost immediately.  Needless to say, upon rewatching, the shot sets up the film powerfully.  Btw, Ofelia--perfect.  Naming your title character after perhaps the most famous dead would-be princess in fiction makes you my kind of director.  Speaking of, Guillermo Del Toro is getting all this attention along with his two Mexican director friends, but he remains my least favorite.  Not to say Del Toro is bad--Pan's Labyrinth is my sixth favorite of the year--but the other two have histories of work I enjoy.  In fact, however, Del Toro's direction is fantastic, especially in the scene where Ofelia tells her unborn brother a fairy tale.  The acting is a little dramatic (never quite reaching Telemundo, though), but then, so is the story, and frankly, I never once cared.  The first time I saw the movie, I wanted more fantasy scenes, but the second time, I understood.  The Faun has to threaten Ofelia with mortality and cut her off so that she can be let down by all those in the human world first.  Her mother has to die, her brother has to be taken from her, Mercedes has to leave her for the rebels, because otherwise, Ofelia would have no reason to leave them for her imaginary kingdom.  Which brings me to the awesome finale.  First things first:  Mercedes has some balls.  Now on to the good stuff:  When I saw Ofelia talking to the Faun from the Captain's point of view, with Ofelia standing alone talking to herself, I got really scared.  And in the end--did she really join the ranks of the immortal as their princess?  Or could she not handle the real world and died at its hand?  I think the mandrake and the fact that she escaped her locked room at the end should speak for themselves, but I like the possibility of other interpretations.  The fact that the film works on so many levels--particularly the one that tells us a history of Spain under Franco, with the toad getting fat off the tree's livelihood and the blind horder of deliciousness who exacts deathly punishment on those who partake of otherwise unused resources--ensures its position among my favorite films of the year. 

5:  Babel--The Biblical story of the Tower of Babel gave a mythological explanation for why different peoples speak different languages.  The film Babel highlights the fact that, even when we do speak the same language, we often fail in our communication.  One story begins in Morocco, where Brad Pitt has taken his wife Cate Blanchett on a marriage-rebuilding trip, but they remain on the rocks; she doesn't even want to be there, meaning either he misunderstood her, or she failed to explain herself.  Either way, communication is required in that relationship.  Similarly, deaf Rinko Kikuchi and her father are rarely on the same page, even when they carry out a conversation, and nanny Adriana Barazza, perfectly able to speak multiple languages, directly disobeys an order that eventually puts her employer's children in harm's way.  Finally, two Moroccan children keep their mouths shut to protect themselves when they fire a bullet that accidentally hits Blanchett.  Director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu effectively illustrates both the importance of communication and how small the world is, and I especially liked how he used sound, or lack thereof in some of the Japanese scenes, to further emphasize his themes.  The acting was stellar throughout, although I think Adriana Barazza should win over Rinko Kikuchi, and the Moroccan story in particular builds in suspense until the very end.  You can't help but feel sorry for the situations Brad, Cate, Adriana, and even the Moroccan boys find themselves in, but each story is resolved with remorse and compassion, Inarritu's way of resolving our differences.  In a year where many of the best films were made in other languages (Jagshemash!), Babel is the perfect fit. 

4:  Borat:  Cultural Learnings For Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan--Who would have thunk that this year's outrageous comedy would turn out to be one of the smartest and most controversial satires in recent history?  Thank You for Smoking pulled off a great fictional satire, but for a real strident attack, you gotta use real people, and that's how Borat succeeds so mightily.  I will never understand why people think the film makes fun of Kazakhs, but I'm very pleased to hear that apparently, you can't sue someone when you give them permission to broadcast video of you being a bigot.  The film doesn't stop the comedy there; there's plenty of slapstick like when Borat visits the antique dealer or when Borat wrestles his producer...naked.  I agree that it's likely that my theatrical experience elevated this one to a position higher than it would have earned otherwise, but regardless, it's a film I very much enjoyed and hope to see many more times. 

3:  Little Miss Sunshine--I'm so glad Little Miss Sunshine is getting the attention it's getting.  Its few detractors cry, "Stereotype!" but I honestly disagree.  I found the film, as exemplified by the dinner scene, incredibly realistically acted.  Each character is given their absurdities, but each, in turn, grounds other scenes.  As the characters like to remind us, the film is about success, and what it means to be a winner.  Several theories are espoused, my favorite being Greg Kinnear's, but in the end, and this is made especially clear by the 4 dropped alternate endings, they all achieved success by growing closer to each other.  The acting is especially solid, with each of the six characters getting approximately equal time to carry the story, and the direction is surprisingly clever--just check out the opening scenes.  It also helps that this was a summer film about a road trip west to Redondo Beach, the exact same trip we took a couple months prior. 

2: Brick--Brick was my number one for the entire year.  Rian Johnson's teen detective story plays like a serious, high-stakes (although, I'm not sure why everything had such gravity) Veronica Mars, with plenty of time for laughs.  I believe Johnson showed the most originality of the year (perhaps excepting Del Toro and Cuaron), the entire movie soaked in style.  Everything from the shots to the sound effects echoed Sergio Leone's use of landscape, one of the many marks that I feel elevates the film to more than just a teen drama.  And you can't discuss Brick without mentioning the brilliant dialogue.  It was specialized, extremely witty, and so fast it takes a couple rewatches to catch it all.  I'm thrilled that Brick was honored at Sundance with an award for Originality of Vision, the perfect award for this awesome, little film. 

1:  Children of Men--Alfonso Cuaron is my new director-crush.  I fell in love with him after seeing Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, having set the bar for that series so high that even the film based on the practically perfect Goblet of Fire could not best it.  Then, the other day, I saw Y Tu Mama Tambien, and as much as I enjoyed watching it, that's nothing compared to the thrill I felt thinking about it afterwards.  The film is that powerful, at least for me.  But Children of Men I had seen in theaters a couple weeks before, deciding it was my favorite film of the year.  It's essentially this year's Lord of the Rings, in that it's about a quest wherein the hero's job is to escort something to a certain point, and along the way, friends come and go, many of whom are tempted to betray the hero.  And in both cases, the cause of temptation is the very thing the hero is escorting, in this case, the most recent human child, an obvious, blatant symbol of hope for the human species.  This is made even more clear by the ship at the end being named the "Tomorrow."  But none of this heavy-handed symbolism bothers me (in fact, it kind of makes me love it more), because Cuaron has crafted a thrilling adventure set in a dystopian future that has a layer of political criticism to it that is frankly unrivaled in film this year.  Britain is the last "civilized" nation on Earth, everywhere else falling to the chaos of a world without a future, and as a result, everyone with a brain is trying to get to the UK.  Unfortunately, they are thrown into cages, usually without so much as Miranda rights being read.  And despite the film being set in the UK, it's not just a criticism of the immigration situation there.  Cuaron is Mexican, and if you think he's not commenting at least partially on the border walls being discussed in the States, you're crazy.  And then there's the Minority Report-esque ubiquity of advertisements, but to me, Cuaron integrates them much more effectively than Minority Report did.  And through all of it, the film is so thrilling you don't get a chance to breathe--neither, by the way, does Kee, who begins to give birth while still on a bus that will take her to the ghetto where she will spend the night.  I guess I'm done ranting, because I know you've all seen this, but I just wanted to give a little tiny dose of why I felt it was the best film of the year. 

P.S.  Mexico is finally getting a film industry worth talking about.  Of my top 10 films, three were made by Mexican directors, one of which is even in Spanish.  Not only that, but the previous works I have seen by Guillermo Del Toro (Hellboy and Cronos) are both interesting, but Pan's Labyrinth is a huge step forward for him.  As for the other two, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu (21 Grams, Babel) and Alfonso Cuaron (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Children of Men) both have incredible films in their repertoire that I've seen, and more coming soon, especially from Cuaron!  I am, for once, excited by foreign filmmakers!

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