In which, oddly enough, I list my ten favorite movies of the just-concluded year. Weird, right? First, a quick disclaimer; I didn't go to the movies as often as I would've liked last year. The usual things got in the way, specifically a lack of free time, and enjoyment of human contact that doesn't involve sitting in a darkened theater for 2 hours. This is by no means a definitive list, and I imagine I'll still be catching up on 2013 movies for a few months to come. Second disclaimer; I have very little use for silly terms like "best" when it comes to ranking distinct pieces of art. These ten films gave me much joy, and I recommend them all without hesitation, albeit for very different reasons. They're presented in no particular order. Without further ado…..
Spring Breakers, dir. Harmony Korine. How on Earth does anyone think this film is celebrating the insane lifestyle it depicts? Korine is savagely angry at these dumb, wasted kids. His film draws blood. It is our nightmare twin hiding in a closet, a dark mirror held up to the instincts we don't talk about in polite company. The movie is an astonishing technical achievement, as beautifully shot and hypnotically edited as anything I've ever seen. Come for the cinematography, stay for the best satire since Thank-you for Smoking. Perhaps the definitive portrait of a lost, sad generation.
Pacific Rim, dir. Guillermo Del Toro. The most fun I had in a theater this year. Pure adrenaline, constructed with immense skill and presented with joy. Yes, this is a silly film. So is Star Wars. Much of it reminded me of the famous scene set in Mos Eisley, which is known for the crude, misshapen, just-odd-enough-to-be-real creature designs. Del Toro has considered every aspect of what it might mean to live in a world under attack from Godzilla's younger, less considerate siblings. To watch this film is to smell the smoke of the Bone-Slums, to shiver as horns sound and we know exactly what's coming. The fights are something wholly unique in the history of cinema, huge and apocalyptic and utterly gorgeous. Del Toro has long been one of our great artists, and Pacific Rim is his most personal work, a hymm of praise to the monster-mashes that rocked his world as a kid. Better acted and more thematically resonant than it has any need to be, this is a movie that will gain a huge following as it ages. And in a time when genre fiction digs itself futher and further into darkness, it delivers the passion and hope and joy we all so desperately need.
Side Effects, dir. Stephen Soderbergh. Now this is a nasty one. A vicious little bear-trap of a movie, spring loaded and left for us to trip over by the great Soderbergh. To discuss the plot would be unfair to anyone who has yet to experience it (judging by box-office numbers, quite a lot of people). A future cult classic, made with immaculate technical chill. Strongly acted, giving us characters whose actions shock us, while still seeming like the most natural thing in the world. On Soderbergh's "retirement" I can only say this; Make it quick, Stephen. We need you.
Ender's Game, dir. Gavin Hood. A deeply flawed film, lumpily paced and structurally inelegant. It makes the classic adaptive mistake of not understanding which characters in its source material are worth preserving, and which can be left on the editing-room floor (why does the book spend so much time with those pesky Wiggins siblings?). Nevertheless, a sensitive and deeply nuanced exploration of what it means to be young, troubled, and brilliant. Made with a crisp sense of craft, and presenting unusually complex action sequences with admirable clarity. A film that resists easy conclusions and safe endings, to its considerable benefit.
The Wolf of Wall Street, dir. Martin Scorsese. I love reading reviews that begin with some variation on "So-and-so has made the best Scorsese movie since Scorsese himself was in his Goodfellas era prime…." Guess what, kids? There's only one master, and he's baaaaaaaack. The Wolf of Wall Street is visually dynamite, riotously funny, and a razor-edged filleting of the American greed-culture. Like Korine's film above, this one has been misinterpreted so many times it makes my skull hurt to contemplate. Scorsese doesn't celebrate the scumbags he shows us. He does not admire these people, want to be them, or hope to convince some impressionable young tyke to choose Jordan Belfort as a role-model. To recap: Scorsese stages a scene in which one of our brightest, most beloved movie-stars crawls on his fucking knees in the middle of a drug-haze, before scraping his fancy car to shit on the way home. This isn't a feting, it's a bio-hazard sign.
Iron Man 3, dir. Shane Black. How'd they sneak this through? Iron Man wanders into a goddamn Shane Black flick, and it's the highest grossing film of 2013. I wouldn't call it a truly great movie (too meandering, too faithful to the Marvel form), but it's something more careful, more structurally ingenious, and much more thoughtful than any blockbuster entertainment has a need or a right to be. It's also very funny, written with Shane Black's signature dark wit, filtered through RDJ's legendary quicksilver verbiage. It gives me great hope for the future Marvel films. The company has shown that it can produce competent, wildly profitable product, with the overrated Avengers as the current crown jewel. Now, with the audience hooked and the brand established, hopefully Marvel will hire more genuine auteurs and unleash them to produce unique, elevated art.
Fast and the Furious 6, dir. Justin Lin. Old-school shot of badassery laced with testosterone, cooked in the furnace of an iron V8 big block. Deceptively simple, with an economy and structural clarity that should be taught in film-writing classes. Yes, seriously. People describe this film as a guilty pleasure. Screw guilt. The Fast and Furious movies (#'s 4-6 at least) are really, really good. A surprisingly poignant exploration of loyalty, family, and faith. Annnnnnd then there are those action scenes. Beautifully shot and taughtly edited, these are the antidote to Michael Bay-style pukeycam. The cars have real weight and heft, and Justin Lin lays out his astonishing stunts with the choreography of a Russian Ballet. A film of exquisite craft, with well-cast actors looking like they're having the time of their lives.
Gravity, dir. Alfonso Cuaron. Pure magic. This is a film that rewrites all the rules. There has been much bullshit written about its structural simplicity and the weakness of its screenplay. Stop, just stop. Film at its best is a visceral medium, an instinctive experience. To see this movie on a big screen is to know awe, terror, and ultimately hope.
The Great Gatsby, dir. Baz Luhrmann. I hated this movie when I first saw it. The original novel is one of my favorite pieces of art. It is small, careful, deeply felt. The film is big and brash, a lush evocation of a wild time in our history. But it has the emotions right. Look at DiCaprio's face standing at the high window. See the beauty of Luhrmann's images, the wild parties and near-naked women and fountains of champagne. Then ask yourself why nobody ever seems to be smiling.
The Lone Ranger, dir. Gore Verbinski. ….. Just kidding.
The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, dir. Francis Lawrence. An immense improvement over the (pretty good) first film. Avoids all the usual middle-child issues. Emotionally satisfying even as it ends mid-scene. Jennifer Lawrence is an astonishing actress, but is more than matched by a cast chock-full of veteran stars. Donald Sutherland does smart and brutal like a cobra flaring its hood. Visually innovative, and directed within an inch of its life by Francis Lawrence. The devil, as always, is in the small things. Lawrence is at his best when showing details of life in post-apocalyptic Panem. He gives us an entire world, in all of its terror and beauty. That we come to love the characters and fear for their fate is a smal miracle. Also functions as a brutal indictment of voyeurisitic media culture.
No comments:
Post a Comment