In a year of change, I’m changing too. Below isn’t the “best of the best,” assigned a number and listed according to preference. Instead, I’ve presented not the “Top 10” in film, or television, or any other media arena—but rather those things that, in the dreary coming weeks of January, will still cause me to look back on the Year That Was, and smile.
The Best Films of 2008:
WALL-E
A wordless procession of images marshaled together in service of re-discovery, of finding the utterly beguiling charms of daily hum-drum life, followed in turn by a zingy satire that’s like Charlie Chaplin in space—and through it all beats a pulse of romanticism and unabashed reverence of pure cinematic creation: WALL-E, writer-director Andrew Stanton’s love-story-adventure-comedy-eco-parable about life then that feels remarkably like now, is all these things and more. It’s everything Pixar Studios has represented in the last twenty years, tied up together in a film that doesn’t just stun you with its visual beauty, but also with its emotional integrity. I’m all for films that talk, talk, talk—but Stanton takes a different approach: he finds the magic in silence, the fascination in the wordless. So when the film, in its second-half, becomes a screwball comedy on a space station, many tune-out, claiming the move as a rote one not worth their time. But they miss the anger in Stanton’s vision—the blistering satire in his work. WALL-E is a robot love story, and its two central robots don’t talk much, but the joy of the movie is the way the architects (of both animation and narrative) over at Pixar don’t settle for something charming but coy and removed. They bring every stitch of their metallic fabrication into reality, and find, among the ruins of a future far away from any of us, life very much like our own.
The Dark Knight
A sumptuous big-screen feast that leaves you only slightly queasy afterwards, Christopher Nolan’s 153-minute The Dark Knight became the zeitgeist movie of the year (and, perhaps, the decade) for a number of reasons—not the least of which was its monstrous box office performance. But underneath all those staggering financial numbers was a simpler fact: the film is wholly, consistently, and perfectly hypnotic…and terrifying. Not only a master class in how to create a near-perfect sequel (take that Sam Raimi!), nor just the vehicle for the year’s greatest performance, this sixth Batman movie in as many years does all the ones previous one better—it leaps forward, to The Now, and dares to underline the caped crusader not only with pathos, but relevance. Forget the stylized design of the Burton films, or the cheeky pastiche of Joel Schumacher’s Batman Forever and Batman and Robin—this is a new kind of comic-book movie: in telling of how Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale, with his dynamic rasp still firmly in place) edges closer and closer to madness trying to take out The Joker (Heath Ledger, in a feat of Method Madness so complete, so unshakeable, that it makes you miss the actor behind the make-up all the more), the movie does something, if not original, than excitingly different. It’s dark, and it’s ponderous, and it’s philosophical. It’s manic, and it’s tricky, and it’s thrilling. And it’s too long. But so what? This isn’t a perfect film, but it earns a high spot for the very boldness of its creation. If it’s not the first summer spectacle to leave you thinking as you leave the theatre, nor the first crime-drama produced with dazzling skill, then The Dark Knight may just be the best of both of them, swirled together: a mesmerizing and dark concoction.
Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist
Perhaps too cute, or too slight, or too confectionary a movie to triumph and to treasure—whatever: Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist is a joyous romp that has such a light, heartfelt touch that it does something entirely too rare for a romantic-comedy: it redefines its own genre for a modern audience. It’s a teen break-up/meet-up sweet-and-sour plug-in-and-let-go experience that creeps up and wins you over. Lorene Scafaria’s screenplay, adapted from the novel by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan, has charm and wit to spare, but the real behind-the-camera winner is director Peter Sollett, who doesn’t just follow his actors into every nook and cranny of nighttime NYC, he chases them. And the more he does so, the more he—and you, the audience—begin to understand what he’s chasing. The movie fills its cast richly, with ethnicities and sexualities of all types, and pays each of them rich consideration. Rare is the film that doesn’t just lay bare the shallow frivolities of adolescence, but glorifies and deepens them. Nick & Norah isn’t as great a conversation piece as, say, Before Sunrise/Before Sunset, but the talking is second to the atmosphere created. And the world discovered by Michael Cera and Kat Dennings is unlike most anything else seen on a movie screen lately and that’s because the world they find is ours.
Kung-Fu Panda
It was something of a good year for animated films. The genre produced masterpieces, like that aforementioned one about the robot, and several that were, for lack of a better phrase, just really fun. A better example of this than most was Kung-Fu Panda, which was written by Jonathan Aibel & Glenn Berger as a thorough exercise in tongue-in-cheek bravura; what’s more, the directors and their actors—Mark Osborne and John Stevenson, leading a Jack Black as he gives one of his all-too-rare show-stopping soul-on-his-sleeve performances—give actual life to the phrase “tongue-in-cheek bravura:” the animation is fluid, and lightning-fast, and the sarcasm flows about as quickly. The last third devolves into nothing more than a slapstick-y karate bonanza, but it’s conceived and drawn out with such rambunctious energy that you forget to care. If WALL-E taught us of the magic in a single, solitary soul (synthetic or not), then Kung-Fu Panda reminds us all of the capacity for filmmakers to not just draw pretty moving pictures, but to make them funny, too. It’s a simplistic notion (and if the final product didn’t pay such richly humorous dividends on repeated viewings the picture would be all the more blah for holding it center-stage) but here, like its lesser-compatriot Horton Hears a Who, the film holds itself rapt with the possibilities of silliness in animation—and the audience, suddenly, is held rapt too.
Australia
As with all of writer-director Baz Luhrmann’s work, his fifth film in two decades is firmly love it or hate it—and, darn it all, I adored Australia, utterly and with complete abandon. True, it’s a mess of a production, and the narrative feels gangly, overgrown, overworked, and precocious; and, true, the odd mixture of drama, action, and comedy that Luhrmann is trying to pull off never feels more awkward than when he attempts all three at once (which he does quite frequently). But his visual zest remains firmly intact (his cameras swoon with unabashed glee in a mad rush to capture the expansive landscape of his story), and his mad, desirous aesthetic is madly infectious. For the first time (that’s right: Moulin Rouge! doesn’t count), his romance—his soul—connects through the screen with the audience, and so the inherently cheesy nature of this Out of Africa redux is forgiven—lo! Less than forgiven: overlooked entirely as you rush headlong into sweeping sequence after sequence, heart melting, swoon swooning, lips curling, and hands shaking. If for no other reason than that Australia is the perfect argument for why certain movies have to be seen on the big screen, have to be absorbed as they were conceived, without boundaries, without thought to structure, and with but one goal in mind: to shock, awe, and over-stimulate—
Actually, that’s reason enough.
Other Notables Events, Products, and Persons of Greatness:
Love on the Inside: Sugarland
What would seem to be just a good album becomes nearly great in context. Consider: in the last four years the group (once a trio—now a duo, sans the grittier aesthetic of Kristen Hall) has released three collections, with Love on the Inside being their third. And the triumph in it all isn’t just how consistent each piece of work is, but how remarkable the larger body is as a whole because of it. Kristian Bush and Jennifer Nettles (he plays, she sings; they both write) remain as cleverly mainstream as ever, and if their latest CD lacks an emotional stunner like Enjoy the Ride’s “Stay,” it more than makes up for it with goofy jives like “Steve Earle” and “It Happens.” Plus it happens to have, with “We Run,” what may well be the purest expression of first love all year. That kind of sincerity, which at its best touches naturalism, is all a part of their synergetic brand: a swelling celebration of middle-class humanism.
The Enchantress of Florence: Salmon Rushdie
Perhaps not the best book of the year, but who needs greatness? Rushdie, taking a step away from the heft of his more revered works like Midnight’s Children, instead delivers to us this delightful fable-within-historical fiction, about a wanderer who comes to the court of the powerful Mughal king Akbar with a story to tell (or, just maybe, a lie to spin). Quickly, this incredibly handsome, blonde-haired young man has ingratiated himself into the upper-echelons of Akbar’s capital city as his charm, good looks, and quicksilver tongue enrapture ever-increasing portions of the population. But wait—just what, exactly, is going on? All is revealed, but slowly, as both the wanderer’s story and his tale-to-tell are told, in overlapping, hazy scenes. The characters (none more so than the emperor himself) are warmly, tartly, sketched-in; the dialogue has a breezy-glam intelligence; and the conclusion is bitter-sweet, but the novel as a whole is all the more sumptuous for it: a piquant, delicious, and witty display of men at the height of their powers—of deception, of empire-building, of longing, of violence, and of love.
30 Rock/Pushing Daisies
Both are quirky, lighter-than-air shows—but one happens to be a sitcom, and the other is a murder-mystery-romantic-comedy. And one premiered to minimal viewership, while the other did blockbuster numbers. And one of them just got renewed for a fourth season, as its fan-base steadily increases (kind of like The Office three years ago) while the other was just cancelled. So, ok, 30 Rock and Pushing Daisies have only minimal similarities, but over the first half of the 2008-2009 season (at least in a landscape that was sans Friday Night Lights), they were both celebration-worthy gems.
30 Rock is the better of the two, if only because it benefits ever-more from the steadily increasing artistic strength of executive-producer/head-writer/star Tina Fey (plus it’s also the one of the two that was spared the axe). Fey writes rococo dialogue better than just about anyone except Mitchell Hurwitz, her comedy zings effortlessly from high to low, her guest-spots have Will & Grace-like marquee names, with none of their pandering, and—what’s more—together with her cast (headed by the mercilessly talented Alec Baldwin) she’s made the most winning sitcom of the year by one simple fact: the show is just really funny.
Pushing Daisies has very little of Fey’s profoundly silly wit, but the show, exec-produced by Bryan Fuller, runs on the same absurdly clever wavelength. The atmosphere is lush, confectionary, and in perfect service of the show’s tone: the sour beneath the sweet. Filled with dead people, living people, and dead people who are now living, Daisies tends to feel a bit overcrowded at times, but the ensemble (which expanded nicely in Season Two) is seamless (extra extra kudos go out to Kristen Chenoweth as the waitressing sidekick: if not the heart of the series, she’s definitely the soul). And the writing: is there anything quite like it on network television today—anything quite so rambunctiously literate, voluble, ebullient, or profuse? The conversations go around and around in sardonic circles and if the narratives tend to ramble a bit, it was more a desperate flaw than an irritating one, as the series kept looking for the viewers who evaporated after the Writer’s Strike. They never found them, and after a truncated season, it’s goodbye Daisies. At least there will always be DVD, to help bring you back to life again…and this time, for longer than a minute.
Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends: Coldplay
There aren’t any commas in the title of Coldplay’s fourth album—and intentionally so: the label is meant to be read in one pensive moment, as the reader moves from triumph to ruefulness. That’s a lot of tone to pack into just the verbiage, but the English rockers don’t disappoint: all of their pretention is pulled off seamlessly, with producer Brian Eno revitalizing their sound at a perfect intersection in their careers (the CD can be read both as a response to those who deride them as Radiohead-lite, and as a claim to the vacant U2 throne). The sonic stylization is dense, but dexterous, and each song reveals hidden twists and turns upon return visits. “Cemeteries of London,” Life in Technicolor,” (which is the most lush pop-instrumental in quite some time) and “Yes” are all exhilarating, expert creations—the band’s depressing lyricism is counterpointed neatly with out-of-nowhere musical choices like the occasional Eastern interlude. And what of “Violet Hill” and “Viva la Vida”—the latter of which became 2008’s most celebrated rock song? I prefer, ever-so-slightly, “Hill” over its album-mate, but both are indelible for their rich musical and emotional impacts; and, what’s more, they expand the sonic horizon with each swell of Martin’s falsetto, leading the listener more and more to agree with the reflexive labeling by the masses and critics alike: yes, yes—Viva la Vida is, quite simply, sublime.
Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog
Joss Whedon: screenwriter, television producer, mad genius—everyone knows those things. But did you also know the mind behind Buffy the Vampire Slayer could write a musical? As in both lyrics and music? And that it doesn’t suck…like, at all? Ok, I’ll be honest: I came in with the highest of hopes—this is Joss Whedon after all. Still, the fact that he (along with a mini-writing staff comprised of his brothers and almost-sister-in-law) could whip this little 43-minute masterpiece over the course of the Writer’s Strike and have it still bare all the trademark Whedonesque flourishes…well, that’s something else entirely. The story is reliably anachronistic, the dialogue is whip-smart, and the actors (all of whom can actually sing) are divine, but it’s the music in this mini-musical that is what sticks in your head. “Freeze Ray,” “Penny’s Song,” “Slipping,” and “My Eyes” are perfectly exemplary of the talents of a man television has gone without now for nearly six years: each song is catchy, but on a larger scale it’s also funny, sincere, and a bit poetic. Rejoice those few of you who missed Dr. Horrible’s debut online months ago: the DVD is already being released. And rejoice, too, those of you who caught the production and are keen now for more of its aesthetic: Whedon’s has already hired his cohorts on the musical, Jed Whedon and Marissa Tancharoen, on as part of the writing staff for his next cult-classic-in-the-making—Dollhouse. Fingers crossed it makes me feel nearly as much.
(One last thing: if I should chance upon any of the myriad number of CDs and movies and so forth I have yet to see and categorically judge that is worth noting—it will be noted.)
Showing posts with label Commentary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Commentary. Show all posts
Monday, April 6, 2009
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Oscar Predictions.
A show of hands please: who thought it wasn't coming? Ok, well - pipe down; if you've noticed that my perennial list of predictions and commentaries as award season goes into full-overdrive has been absent, blame only the WGA (or rather, the far more culpable producers) for making this early blur of Globes, SAG's, and little gold men even more limp and pointless...or worse, empty. Still, the strike is ended and I've done most of my pre-Oscar viewing. As such, I present who I predict will win what of the Big Eight awards, and more importantly: who should.
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Best Adapted Screenplay
Who Will Win: Joel & Ethan Coen are pretty much guaranteed another win here (it'll likely be their third or fourth of the evening) for No Country for Old Men but if the Academy waxes sentimental (or whatever the hell P.T. Anderson feels when he makes a movie) they could pull an upset by showering the love on Away from Her, Atonement, or There Will Be Blood.
Who Should Win: Christopher Hampton does admirably with Ian McEwan's devastating novel, scripting a film with almost exactly his same shard of heartbreak nestled in the center. But it's the movie stripped of nearly all sentiment that has me behind it: Mr. Anderson gives his early 20th-century schemers and crooks vicious dramatic oomph; what more could you ask?
Best Original Screenplay
Who Will Win: Diablo Cody is just a milimeter away from "shoe-in"...
Who Should Win: And rightly so; her Juno is a stunner: quick-witted but ultimately grounded in a revelatory modern compassion. For such a novice, her script has all the skill of a master.
Best Supporting Actor
Who Will Win: This is another category dominated by only one contender: Javier Bardem for his bone-chilling portrayal of a uniquely McCarthyian sociopath in Country. Far be it from the Academy to slow his winning streak (though, they do so love the geriatrics: a surprise win from Hal Holbrook, much like last year's victory for Alan Arkin, isn't out of the question).
Who Should Win: I'll admit it: I'm pre-disposed to Tom Wilkinson for his deftly graceful embodiment of a Champion of Sleaze seeing the light in Michael Clayton - seeing as how it was one of my favorite movies of the year - but such adoration doesn't make me blind. When Bardem picks up his Oscar, I'll cheer like the rest of 'em.
Best Supporting Actress
Who Will Win: Cate Blanchett faces a conundrum: she pulled away early from the starting gate as the clear favorite in the Supporting category for her acidically witty and frazzled Bob Dylan in I'm Not There; thus her reprisal of Elizabeth I got nil attention (though she still picked up a nod in Best Actress land). Now she'll have to duke it out with Tilda Swinton, as Clayton's nuerotic in-house counsel, for the prize. Who will emerge victorious? Lately the bets are on Swinton, but I'll still side with an old horse: my pick is Blanchett.
Who Should Win: I've long admired both Swinton and Blanchett and this year saw some of the best in their respective careers: the former all captivating collapse and insecurity; the latter all wounded genius. So, seeing as how I tend to wax generous in the week leading up to the big show, I'll compromise: either deserves the win.
Best Actor
Who Will Win: Daniel Day-Lewis, a famously "methodical" (that's putting it lightly) actor, is all the rage as the chief villain/hero of Blood. And history shows that monoliths such as he, having won nearly all the early-season awards, rarely stumble at the finish line.
Who Should Win: It's a year of easy picks for the Oscars - what with Cody, Bardem, and now Day-Lewis as both fan and critical favorites; and I count myself among both of the latter groups. I loved Johnny Depp in Tim Burton's sweepingly dark Sweeney Todd and my George Clooney-worship, for his lead in Clayton, knows no bounds. But I calls 'em how I sees 'em, and the craggy-voiced legend-in-the-making that is Daniel Day-Lewis clearly deserves the mother of all recognition for his startling performance as a man pulled inexorably into the dark tides of his own ambition.
Best Actress
Who Will Win: Julie Christie, long absent from the nominee list, has been gathering steam ever since her film, Away from Her, premiered last fall. Lately though she's been facing stiff competition: both Marion Cotillard, as Edith Piaf, and Ellen Page, as the titular character in Juno, will give her a good run come Feb. 24th. Still, it's doubtful the Academy will overlook a comeback of such poignant scale; they'll go with Christie.
Who Should Win: Page was the central piece of a very good puzzle in Juno, and I'm sure Laura Linney - in The Savages - and Cate Blanchett - in her second go round as Elizabeth I - turned in reliably solid work, but for me it will always be Cotillard: a sprightly French actress who didn't just embody Piaf, that famously fiery sparrow-diva, she possessed her.
Best Director
Who Will Win: Again, the Coen brothers have always been on Oscar's radar, and they've proven that when they concoct just the right amount of box-office and rave reviews (see: 1996's Fargo), they'll come out big on award night. Still, they've never been recognized for their directing and this year it'll be just another thing that will be recognized with their bloody neo-Western Country. That means that industry standard Paul Thomas Anderson, always a bridesmaid and never a bride, will go home empty; as will upstarts Jason Reitman, Tony Gilroy, and Julian Schnabel.
Who Should Win: Gilroy deserves accolades for making Clayton such a silky surprise: seductive and articulate; and Reitman was the third part of that golden trifecta in Juno that reaped such big returns. The big fight though is between Anderson and Joel & Ethan Coen. Truly, all three dive right into their work; and to all three, their filmographies stand as testaments to the wonders of 21st-century writing-directing. But if a better man (or men) must be chosen, then it's the Coen's, for turning a 180 with their latest film - a stark and desolate landscape - and never hitting a false note.
Best Picture
Who Will Win: Of the five - Juno, No Country for Old Men, Atonement, There WIll Be Blood, and Michael Clayton - each will reap something from the night's festivities...except Atonement; which is a shame because, though it has been positioned as a classic contender in a year that's anything but, the film has a true emotional wallop and its pedigree does good (or even great) work throughout. But enough of my laments; the only film that even comes close to nearing Country - a major player and winner in everything award-wise these last months - in hopes of a Best Picture win would be Juno and something tells me that the older voters of the Academy will favor the Cormac McCarthy adaptation over Diablo Cody's mad-cap dialogue.
Who Should Win: It's undeniable: 2007 was a dark year and its reflected in most of the nominees. Does that tempt me to favor the fifth, "lighter", film? Absolutely, but I also can't deny the that the four other films, while depressing and/or tragic, are also some great specimens. Thusly I choose There Will Be Blood as my favorite of the bunch. In P.T. Anderson's exploration of the trials of a devil-mogul, he employed some great actors (Day-Lewis, Paul Dano) in a thunderously unforgettable movie. The first viewing is like hypnotism tinged with dread; fascinating and inescapable.
********************
Well, there it is folks: who will and who should have been crowned victorious in the Kodak Theatre. Agree? Disagree? Let me hear why. Until then I'll be prepping my now-obligatory commentary on the events of the evening; something I'm sure my readers relish.
See you February 24th.
********************
Best Adapted Screenplay
Who Will Win: Joel & Ethan Coen are pretty much guaranteed another win here (it'll likely be their third or fourth of the evening) for No Country for Old Men but if the Academy waxes sentimental (or whatever the hell P.T. Anderson feels when he makes a movie) they could pull an upset by showering the love on Away from Her, Atonement, or There Will Be Blood.
Who Should Win: Christopher Hampton does admirably with Ian McEwan's devastating novel, scripting a film with almost exactly his same shard of heartbreak nestled in the center. But it's the movie stripped of nearly all sentiment that has me behind it: Mr. Anderson gives his early 20th-century schemers and crooks vicious dramatic oomph; what more could you ask?
Best Original Screenplay
Who Will Win: Diablo Cody is just a milimeter away from "shoe-in"...
Who Should Win: And rightly so; her Juno is a stunner: quick-witted but ultimately grounded in a revelatory modern compassion. For such a novice, her script has all the skill of a master.
Best Supporting Actor
Who Will Win: This is another category dominated by only one contender: Javier Bardem for his bone-chilling portrayal of a uniquely McCarthyian sociopath in Country. Far be it from the Academy to slow his winning streak (though, they do so love the geriatrics: a surprise win from Hal Holbrook, much like last year's victory for Alan Arkin, isn't out of the question).
Who Should Win: I'll admit it: I'm pre-disposed to Tom Wilkinson for his deftly graceful embodiment of a Champion of Sleaze seeing the light in Michael Clayton - seeing as how it was one of my favorite movies of the year - but such adoration doesn't make me blind. When Bardem picks up his Oscar, I'll cheer like the rest of 'em.
Best Supporting Actress
Who Will Win: Cate Blanchett faces a conundrum: she pulled away early from the starting gate as the clear favorite in the Supporting category for her acidically witty and frazzled Bob Dylan in I'm Not There; thus her reprisal of Elizabeth I got nil attention (though she still picked up a nod in Best Actress land). Now she'll have to duke it out with Tilda Swinton, as Clayton's nuerotic in-house counsel, for the prize. Who will emerge victorious? Lately the bets are on Swinton, but I'll still side with an old horse: my pick is Blanchett.
Who Should Win: I've long admired both Swinton and Blanchett and this year saw some of the best in their respective careers: the former all captivating collapse and insecurity; the latter all wounded genius. So, seeing as how I tend to wax generous in the week leading up to the big show, I'll compromise: either deserves the win.
Best Actor
Who Will Win: Daniel Day-Lewis, a famously "methodical" (that's putting it lightly) actor, is all the rage as the chief villain/hero of Blood. And history shows that monoliths such as he, having won nearly all the early-season awards, rarely stumble at the finish line.
Who Should Win: It's a year of easy picks for the Oscars - what with Cody, Bardem, and now Day-Lewis as both fan and critical favorites; and I count myself among both of the latter groups. I loved Johnny Depp in Tim Burton's sweepingly dark Sweeney Todd and my George Clooney-worship, for his lead in Clayton, knows no bounds. But I calls 'em how I sees 'em, and the craggy-voiced legend-in-the-making that is Daniel Day-Lewis clearly deserves the mother of all recognition for his startling performance as a man pulled inexorably into the dark tides of his own ambition.
Best Actress
Who Will Win: Julie Christie, long absent from the nominee list, has been gathering steam ever since her film, Away from Her, premiered last fall. Lately though she's been facing stiff competition: both Marion Cotillard, as Edith Piaf, and Ellen Page, as the titular character in Juno, will give her a good run come Feb. 24th. Still, it's doubtful the Academy will overlook a comeback of such poignant scale; they'll go with Christie.
Who Should Win: Page was the central piece of a very good puzzle in Juno, and I'm sure Laura Linney - in The Savages - and Cate Blanchett - in her second go round as Elizabeth I - turned in reliably solid work, but for me it will always be Cotillard: a sprightly French actress who didn't just embody Piaf, that famously fiery sparrow-diva, she possessed her.
Best Director
Who Will Win: Again, the Coen brothers have always been on Oscar's radar, and they've proven that when they concoct just the right amount of box-office and rave reviews (see: 1996's Fargo), they'll come out big on award night. Still, they've never been recognized for their directing and this year it'll be just another thing that will be recognized with their bloody neo-Western Country. That means that industry standard Paul Thomas Anderson, always a bridesmaid and never a bride, will go home empty; as will upstarts Jason Reitman, Tony Gilroy, and Julian Schnabel.
Who Should Win: Gilroy deserves accolades for making Clayton such a silky surprise: seductive and articulate; and Reitman was the third part of that golden trifecta in Juno that reaped such big returns. The big fight though is between Anderson and Joel & Ethan Coen. Truly, all three dive right into their work; and to all three, their filmographies stand as testaments to the wonders of 21st-century writing-directing. But if a better man (or men) must be chosen, then it's the Coen's, for turning a 180 with their latest film - a stark and desolate landscape - and never hitting a false note.
Best Picture
Who Will Win: Of the five - Juno, No Country for Old Men, Atonement, There WIll Be Blood, and Michael Clayton - each will reap something from the night's festivities...except Atonement; which is a shame because, though it has been positioned as a classic contender in a year that's anything but, the film has a true emotional wallop and its pedigree does good (or even great) work throughout. But enough of my laments; the only film that even comes close to nearing Country - a major player and winner in everything award-wise these last months - in hopes of a Best Picture win would be Juno and something tells me that the older voters of the Academy will favor the Cormac McCarthy adaptation over Diablo Cody's mad-cap dialogue.
Who Should Win: It's undeniable: 2007 was a dark year and its reflected in most of the nominees. Does that tempt me to favor the fifth, "lighter", film? Absolutely, but I also can't deny the that the four other films, while depressing and/or tragic, are also some great specimens. Thusly I choose There Will Be Blood as my favorite of the bunch. In P.T. Anderson's exploration of the trials of a devil-mogul, he employed some great actors (Day-Lewis, Paul Dano) in a thunderously unforgettable movie. The first viewing is like hypnotism tinged with dread; fascinating and inescapable.
********************
Well, there it is folks: who will and who should have been crowned victorious in the Kodak Theatre. Agree? Disagree? Let me hear why. Until then I'll be prepping my now-obligatory commentary on the events of the evening; something I'm sure my readers relish.
See you February 24th.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Best of 2007*.
The box office rebounded – mightily! – in a year replete with box office giants seemingly every month; but that doesn't mean the year was wanting for quality – heck, occasionally even some of those giants managed to be good. The multiplex was host to a whole slew of brilliant, and brilliantly experimental, films (I'm Not There, Fay Grim), a couple of vastly entertaining jaunts (The Bourne Ultimatum, Knocked Up), and one or two examples of just exactly what it means when a genre is re-invigorated by the very best it has to offer (Sicko, Zodiac, Michael Clayton). Also of note were the other media arenas: television and music (and books I imagine – though, sadly, this year I won't be able to exclude the best from this latter category; thank my non-forward-thinking literary instincts for that) were both vessels for some incredible stuff this year. Just what exactly do I mean? Read on, dear reader, and discover for yourself.
The Top 10 Movies of 2007:
1. I'm Not There
Who but one of our country's most talented experimental filmmakers could take such a bold leap as this? Todd Haynes gambled big when he followed up his worthily adored Far From Heaven – already a deep-thought meditation on the nature of '50s soap-operas – with I'm Not There, a film somehow even more complex…and somehow even slightly more rewarding (if only for your brain, and not your heart). Haynes' film follows six esteemed actors (and then a few, not so much) as they interpret six different figments of legendary folk musician Bob Dylan during six different periods of his life; all the while, several times more than that number of his songs are playing – serving as elegy and poignant reminder all along (think of these melodies as the exclamation point at the end of Haynes two-hour long statement "Dylan was a genius!"). Filmed with even more of the clever period intricacies than the director did for Heaven, written with all of Haynes plain yet addictive spiritual obsession (here, too, he cribs dialogue from actual Dylan interviews and press conferences), and acted by some Hollywood men and women giving their all (Cate Blanchett, decked out in a frazzled mini-afro and slurry cutting delivery, especially stands out), I'm Not There is a head-trip of a bio-pick; a journey into the deep recesses of a mythic-man's creation and existence. And what do we discover after having taken the journey? Not a huge grasp on Bob Dylan's history, for sure, but nothing less than a new-found level of admiration for the heart, hurt, and soul that goes into the creation of Self; and the visionary power music that pours from said Self can attain.
2. Hairspray
If it's not as satirically relevant as Chicago was or as show-stopping as Dreamgirls occasionally could be, then Hairspray is more entertaining than both previous Broadway-to-film adaptations combined (plus, it boasts a more complex transition cycle, going from John Waters-comedy to stage then back again in this Adam Shankman-directed ode to the glorious powers of a good groove). Though it follows a girl on a serious quest – one Tracy Turnblad (Nikki Blonsky) trying to end Baltimore segregation – and boasts a Serious Message, Hairspray is no more heavy than the warmest, most soothing breeze; a fitting comparison too, since the choreography (hello final number!), musical numbers (hello "Mrs. Baltimore Crabs"!), and performances (hello John Travolta – a shockingly, delightfully, lithe performer – in drag!) nourish the heart and soul, leaving a viewer shaking with joy as the credits roll by.
3. Knocked Up
Judd Apatow, that blessedly-gifted purveyor of all things geeky and witty, had his biggest year yet; what with Superbad, Rock Hard (a film yet untested, but hey – I predict good things for it), and of course, his breakout about one rudderless man-child (Seth Rogen) who gets a beaut (Katherine Heigl) pregnant: Knocked Up. It isn't just because it's a nearly flawless comedy – from perhaps the third scene or so, every punch line and performance begins to crackle – or that it's also yet another showcase for writer-director Apatow's vastly underrated talents as an empathetic humanist – if nothing else, his study of Paul Rudd's marriage to Leslie Mann should definitely stifle the groans from the back of the theater – Knocked Up is great because it's a perfectly modern blend of both; wise yet grungy, fast-paced silliness while being emotionally mature, and heart-warming without being saccharine. So utterly lovable I had to see it twice in the same weekend.
4. Michael Clayton
George Clooney began his career in a stressful workplace, the life-or-death arena of ER, and as of late this paragon of glamorous movie-stardom has been enjoying a renaissance of dramatic performances: from his perfectly enjoyable, perfectly square Good Night, and Good Luck to that movie where he lost a finger-nail (Syriana), and now Michael Clayton – Tony Gilroy's tightly controlled, quiet yet unnerving, John Grisham-meets-talent study of sophisticated corporate malfeasance. Clooney speaks in the wounding, seductively articulate words of Gilroy's script in scenes with actors giving the performances of their respective years (Tom Wilkinson and Tilda Swinton), and working through a story that doubles-back on itself – watched all the time by a ghostly, subtle camera – with sudden unseen cleverness. Michael Clayton may seem on the outside a studiously normal corporate-legal thriller, but everything from Wilkinson's mad attorney to Clooney's own bedraggled mug caught in a world progressively yuckier seeks to unsettle and captivate the viewer, and succeeds.
5. Waitress
As sweet-yet-tart as the pies the titular character – played with a brazen, beautiful, litany of emotions by Keri Russell – crafts in those exquisitely wry overhead shots, Waitress is, in outline, a fairy-tale structured like a sitcom. Yet that description gives away nothing of the sort of refreshing, sprightly, and funny awakening-of-the-soul material writer-director-actor Adrienne Shelly summons for this, her tragically final film. She casts some comedic greats (Andy Griffith, still wielding that twinkle in his eye like a pro) to support her funnier (and, ok, more rote) material; and crafts the dramatic subtexts to her plot (Russell is bearing the baby of her psychologically-abusive husband, a creature that makes her none too happy, and is involved with the town OB-GYN) with a finesse that, given time, would surely have blossomed. If nothing else, at least in Waitress that skill allows the blossoming of another kindred soul: Russell – and oh, what a marvelous event to witness.
6. Zodiac
A classically crafted true-crime film, surely director David Fincher's best, that is also one of the year's most sprawling, intricate, and factually minute. It's the type of movie that follows three men – Robert Graysmith (Jake Gyllenhaal), David Toschi (Mark Ruffalo), and Paul Avery (Robert Downey Jr.) – obsessed with the Zodiac Killer during his spree of the late '60s and early '70s but also the type that has the frame of mind to keep the cameras rolling on into the later decades, capturing each man's own struggle with that Great Unsolved Mystery; the sly joke is that these later years would behold the Age of Information and the birth of the very technology that made catching Zodiac thirty years ago impossible, and so utterly haunting. Fincher himself employs none of the ghastly overheatedness that pervaded Panic Room nor any of the gimmicky gritty atmosphere of Se7en (except perhaps in those later Gyllenhaal scenes); instead he utilizes a beautifully simple style, full of lush photography and home to James Vanderbilt's clever script, that gives the mystery of Zodiac room to breathe, and the viewer room to be haunted.
7. The Bourne Ultimatum
There's a reason director Paul Greengrass has made it onto my year-end list for two years running, and it has a little something to do with the way Greengrass took a seemingly rote franchise and re-invigorated – in the process re-invigorating critics bemoaning the popcorn-thriller and audiences bemoaning the un-amusing thriller. Certainly, after the director was done carving up the screen with his signature (and breathlessly genius) shaky camera work and quick-cut editing, The Bourne Ultimatum was neither dumb nor boring; and as a final installment of a nearly-great trilogy of chase films, it delivered entirely and completely for its two-hour running time. Also of note: the filmmaker's prodigious skill at making bland conceits thrilling experiences (as last year's United 93 was); Tony Gilroy's blossoming talents with the ever more complicated narrative; and the cast's steely determinations, of which David Straithairn was the cold-hearted stand-out.
8. Fay Grim
A crucially, and critically, misunderstood gem; writer-director Hal Hartley's bizarre mash-up of tangled-noir romance and satirical craftsmanship swept me along with its wacky camera angles and so-sly-it-isn't-but-still-is wink at every film convention Hartley himself was simultaneously paying tribute to and terrorizing. The plot: Fay Grim (Parker Posey, a delectably frazzled siren) must discover some secrets for some government for her imprisoned brother (James Urbaniak) to help her wayward son (Liam Aiken). Along the way terrorists are encountered, mad-men with slick charms are taken prisoner by said terrorists, and friendships are re-kindled (again, the terrorists). If it all sounds too zany, too "cutesy-indie", my discovery runs counter to that: Fay Grim is a delight of deadpan comedy (kudos to the marvelously game cast), a skilled twist on the twistiest of genres, and in the end, a film I could actually care about. To me, perhaps even more than Juno (which I haven't had the pleasure to see yet), it may be the year's Great Indie Film; treasure it.
9. Sicko
Michael Moore it seems, just like good wine or cheese, can only get better with age – oh, and more crafty and heart-wrenching too. In his screwball-outrage attack on American health insurance, politicized documentarian Moore summons all his vast powers of zany black humor and graceful splicing to produce a work that will leave the audience needing a doctor; that is, sickened and hurt at the diseased bureaucracy America lets prevail everyday on its own doorstep. Yet the true up-lift of Sicko isn't in the incendiary way Moore destroys the healthcare industry, it's in his contemplative and logical final thesis – that if other, "lesser" nations have found plausible alternatives (e.g. Britain, France, Canada, and Cuba), then why can't we? – and the catharsis he allows himself, a wiser and more thoughtful filmmaker, and the audience to draw from that.
10. Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
The ironic contradiction at the heart of Sweeney Todd is that, usually, a very good movie begets some level of enjoyment (hey, even The Departed, with its brain-busting climax, thrilled me) in its audience; Todd, yet another stage-adaptation (this time, by Gothic maestro Tim Burton – a vastly underrated director), does occasionally delight – the sweepingly cynical "A Little Priest"; the minuscule opener "No Place Like London" – but so much more of its charge comes from the tragic melodrama at the core of the film. Namely, there's a murderous barber (Johnny Depp, in grand emotive form) out for revenge against a conniving judge (Alan Rickman, trilled to his own sarcastic baritone) who gets involved with a cannibalistic, pragmatic pie-maker (Helena Bonham Carter…who can act!) while slashing the throats of his own customers. It is, obviously, violent, disturbing, and tragic stuff; and the biggest surprise isn't that Burton & Co. manage to (mostly) pull off Sondheim's deepest-black production, it's that the talent involved – from the actors, to the director (finally, perhaps, getting wide-scale award recognition), to the legendary composer/lyricist himself (who wrote some of his most operatic, heart-rending, and bleakly funny material for Sweeney) – deliver the top of their game. The result can only be this final product, a film to chill and shake you.
The Top Two Television Shows of 2007:
1. 30 Rock
Like being plugged into a line of pure laughing gas for thirty minutes a week, 30 Rock – Tina Fey's improbably enjoyable sitcom about the travails behind a hit sketch show – leaves one feeling giddy and a little unsteady ("Can a sitcom really be making me feel this happy?!") but nonetheless helplessly addicted. Alec Baldwin, as NBC executive Jack Donaghy, stands alone as his own hit of pure glee; and definite, minutes-long applause are in order for the sheer amount of high-wire witty, silly, energy that is packed behind each minute of Rock by Fey and her writers. How nice it is to sit one night a week on a couch with friends or family or a nice cup of tea and laugh, pure and simple, along with a show that can laugh at itself.
2. Friday Night Lights
Sure, it bogged itself down for nearly all of this first-part of the season's run with an uncouth storyline about an attempted-rape-turned-murder while also bogging down two of its most beloved characters – Tyra Collette (Adrianne Palicki) and Landry Clarke (Jesse Plemons); and sure, I'll give you that Friday Night Lights' secret weapon (or one of them at least), that of intimate and heartfelt character interaction between friends (Landry and golden-boy QB1 best friend Matt Saracen – an anguished, if newly underused, Zach Gilford) and family (Kyle Chandler, as Coach Taylor, with Connie Britton, as his delightfully real wife), was nary given a chance to shine these last episodes. And, ok, it wasn't as quintessentially stirring as its first season; but Lights – though it had entire episodes that rang false, and a few too many odd character turns – still retained its awe-inspiring power to shake a viewer, to shake me, and leave one breathless at its unique brand of power: to transcend its confinement, and give life – nay, soul – to its very own small-town discontent. More flawed than I like, but still more gracefully true than most everything else airing.
The Top Two CD's of 2007:
1. Lily Allen: Alright, Still
Though it became a rave-sensation late last year as a British import, Lily Allen's debut album was officially released stateside in January (making it to my list just under the wire, thank goodness) and just as blogs the Internet over went crazy last winter at Allen's cutting, hip-hop influenced lyrics and musical fusions, twice that many came to adore here over these last seasons. Alright, Still is a spiky debut, teetering (in theory) on precociousness, and Allen is by no means a vocal goddess; but she is a talented singer-songwriter and her affinity for warping and curving all manner of musical styles to fit her decidedly unique, and sassy, aesthetic serves her delectably well. Put on "Smile" when you feel self-righteousness; "LDN" for when you're feeling worldly; "Alfie" when you hate to love your family; "Not Big" and "Friend of Mine" for when romance has you down; and Alright, Still when you need to be reminded what true, melodic, smart and catchy talent looks like.
2. Miranda Lambert: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend
Who says there can't be a great country album this year – one of the best in fact? Quite a lot of people, it seems; and so it has always been for Miranda Lambert, whose debut in 2005 was snubbed by country radio but still became a hit. But, if nothing else, Lambert's album proves that her pre-emptive snub by – gasp! – elitist country fans was a huge mistake. On Crazy Ex-Girlfriend the once dreamy-eyed romantic ("Me and Charlie Talking") goes wistful, introspective, fiery, and oh so harmonic. Her second album is a concept album about the concept of small-town romance and the women it affects, and it does the astounding (and, to me, unthinkable): it makes neo-feminism sexy. Lambert, who co-wrote the majority of the songs, views these gals through a multi-faceted prism, be it angry vigilantism (the opener, "Gunpowder and Lead"), sarcastic observance ("Famous in a Small Town"), or (most consistently) the twin nature of wishful pining: regret and desire (lust?). Yet in her hands, these last two feelings go through a re-birth, a cauterization of the heart and are re-born into a catalyst of open-hearted loaner freedom (the Patty Griffin cover "Getting Ready"). Still, she can wax sadly truthful, and two of her best songs – "More Like Her" (an ambiguous and knotty rumination on a love triangle) and "Desperation" (which features the year's most melancholic, powerful refrain: Complicated words slippin' off your tongue and ain't one of them the truth/ I'm still desperate for you) – finally prove it without a doubt: she isn't just this year's Country Best, she may be its best for years to come.
*Note: my list, obviously, has its flaws. I haven't seen half the stuff that is currently setting the award-season abuzz (e.g. Atonement, Into the Wild, Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, etc.), and I can only watch and listen to so much music and television (plus: I don't get HBO, Showtime, and other more prestigious channels with more prestigious fare). I will eventually get to all of this stuff and you will surely know if I've overlooked something. Until then, this is all I have; tell me what I did wrong.
The Top 10 Movies of 2007:
1. I'm Not There
Who but one of our country's most talented experimental filmmakers could take such a bold leap as this? Todd Haynes gambled big when he followed up his worthily adored Far From Heaven – already a deep-thought meditation on the nature of '50s soap-operas – with I'm Not There, a film somehow even more complex…and somehow even slightly more rewarding (if only for your brain, and not your heart). Haynes' film follows six esteemed actors (and then a few, not so much) as they interpret six different figments of legendary folk musician Bob Dylan during six different periods of his life; all the while, several times more than that number of his songs are playing – serving as elegy and poignant reminder all along (think of these melodies as the exclamation point at the end of Haynes two-hour long statement "Dylan was a genius!"). Filmed with even more of the clever period intricacies than the director did for Heaven, written with all of Haynes plain yet addictive spiritual obsession (here, too, he cribs dialogue from actual Dylan interviews and press conferences), and acted by some Hollywood men and women giving their all (Cate Blanchett, decked out in a frazzled mini-afro and slurry cutting delivery, especially stands out), I'm Not There is a head-trip of a bio-pick; a journey into the deep recesses of a mythic-man's creation and existence. And what do we discover after having taken the journey? Not a huge grasp on Bob Dylan's history, for sure, but nothing less than a new-found level of admiration for the heart, hurt, and soul that goes into the creation of Self; and the visionary power music that pours from said Self can attain.
2. Hairspray
If it's not as satirically relevant as Chicago was or as show-stopping as Dreamgirls occasionally could be, then Hairspray is more entertaining than both previous Broadway-to-film adaptations combined (plus, it boasts a more complex transition cycle, going from John Waters-comedy to stage then back again in this Adam Shankman-directed ode to the glorious powers of a good groove). Though it follows a girl on a serious quest – one Tracy Turnblad (Nikki Blonsky) trying to end Baltimore segregation – and boasts a Serious Message, Hairspray is no more heavy than the warmest, most soothing breeze; a fitting comparison too, since the choreography (hello final number!), musical numbers (hello "Mrs. Baltimore Crabs"!), and performances (hello John Travolta – a shockingly, delightfully, lithe performer – in drag!) nourish the heart and soul, leaving a viewer shaking with joy as the credits roll by.
3. Knocked Up
Judd Apatow, that blessedly-gifted purveyor of all things geeky and witty, had his biggest year yet; what with Superbad, Rock Hard (a film yet untested, but hey – I predict good things for it), and of course, his breakout about one rudderless man-child (Seth Rogen) who gets a beaut (Katherine Heigl) pregnant: Knocked Up. It isn't just because it's a nearly flawless comedy – from perhaps the third scene or so, every punch line and performance begins to crackle – or that it's also yet another showcase for writer-director Apatow's vastly underrated talents as an empathetic humanist – if nothing else, his study of Paul Rudd's marriage to Leslie Mann should definitely stifle the groans from the back of the theater – Knocked Up is great because it's a perfectly modern blend of both; wise yet grungy, fast-paced silliness while being emotionally mature, and heart-warming without being saccharine. So utterly lovable I had to see it twice in the same weekend.
4. Michael Clayton
George Clooney began his career in a stressful workplace, the life-or-death arena of ER, and as of late this paragon of glamorous movie-stardom has been enjoying a renaissance of dramatic performances: from his perfectly enjoyable, perfectly square Good Night, and Good Luck to that movie where he lost a finger-nail (Syriana), and now Michael Clayton – Tony Gilroy's tightly controlled, quiet yet unnerving, John Grisham-meets-talent study of sophisticated corporate malfeasance. Clooney speaks in the wounding, seductively articulate words of Gilroy's script in scenes with actors giving the performances of their respective years (Tom Wilkinson and Tilda Swinton), and working through a story that doubles-back on itself – watched all the time by a ghostly, subtle camera – with sudden unseen cleverness. Michael Clayton may seem on the outside a studiously normal corporate-legal thriller, but everything from Wilkinson's mad attorney to Clooney's own bedraggled mug caught in a world progressively yuckier seeks to unsettle and captivate the viewer, and succeeds.
5. Waitress
As sweet-yet-tart as the pies the titular character – played with a brazen, beautiful, litany of emotions by Keri Russell – crafts in those exquisitely wry overhead shots, Waitress is, in outline, a fairy-tale structured like a sitcom. Yet that description gives away nothing of the sort of refreshing, sprightly, and funny awakening-of-the-soul material writer-director-actor Adrienne Shelly summons for this, her tragically final film. She casts some comedic greats (Andy Griffith, still wielding that twinkle in his eye like a pro) to support her funnier (and, ok, more rote) material; and crafts the dramatic subtexts to her plot (Russell is bearing the baby of her psychologically-abusive husband, a creature that makes her none too happy, and is involved with the town OB-GYN) with a finesse that, given time, would surely have blossomed. If nothing else, at least in Waitress that skill allows the blossoming of another kindred soul: Russell – and oh, what a marvelous event to witness.
6. Zodiac
A classically crafted true-crime film, surely director David Fincher's best, that is also one of the year's most sprawling, intricate, and factually minute. It's the type of movie that follows three men – Robert Graysmith (Jake Gyllenhaal), David Toschi (Mark Ruffalo), and Paul Avery (Robert Downey Jr.) – obsessed with the Zodiac Killer during his spree of the late '60s and early '70s but also the type that has the frame of mind to keep the cameras rolling on into the later decades, capturing each man's own struggle with that Great Unsolved Mystery; the sly joke is that these later years would behold the Age of Information and the birth of the very technology that made catching Zodiac thirty years ago impossible, and so utterly haunting. Fincher himself employs none of the ghastly overheatedness that pervaded Panic Room nor any of the gimmicky gritty atmosphere of Se7en (except perhaps in those later Gyllenhaal scenes); instead he utilizes a beautifully simple style, full of lush photography and home to James Vanderbilt's clever script, that gives the mystery of Zodiac room to breathe, and the viewer room to be haunted.
7. The Bourne Ultimatum
There's a reason director Paul Greengrass has made it onto my year-end list for two years running, and it has a little something to do with the way Greengrass took a seemingly rote franchise and re-invigorated – in the process re-invigorating critics bemoaning the popcorn-thriller and audiences bemoaning the un-amusing thriller. Certainly, after the director was done carving up the screen with his signature (and breathlessly genius) shaky camera work and quick-cut editing, The Bourne Ultimatum was neither dumb nor boring; and as a final installment of a nearly-great trilogy of chase films, it delivered entirely and completely for its two-hour running time. Also of note: the filmmaker's prodigious skill at making bland conceits thrilling experiences (as last year's United 93 was); Tony Gilroy's blossoming talents with the ever more complicated narrative; and the cast's steely determinations, of which David Straithairn was the cold-hearted stand-out.
8. Fay Grim
A crucially, and critically, misunderstood gem; writer-director Hal Hartley's bizarre mash-up of tangled-noir romance and satirical craftsmanship swept me along with its wacky camera angles and so-sly-it-isn't-but-still-is wink at every film convention Hartley himself was simultaneously paying tribute to and terrorizing. The plot: Fay Grim (Parker Posey, a delectably frazzled siren) must discover some secrets for some government for her imprisoned brother (James Urbaniak) to help her wayward son (Liam Aiken). Along the way terrorists are encountered, mad-men with slick charms are taken prisoner by said terrorists, and friendships are re-kindled (again, the terrorists). If it all sounds too zany, too "cutesy-indie", my discovery runs counter to that: Fay Grim is a delight of deadpan comedy (kudos to the marvelously game cast), a skilled twist on the twistiest of genres, and in the end, a film I could actually care about. To me, perhaps even more than Juno (which I haven't had the pleasure to see yet), it may be the year's Great Indie Film; treasure it.
9. Sicko
Michael Moore it seems, just like good wine or cheese, can only get better with age – oh, and more crafty and heart-wrenching too. In his screwball-outrage attack on American health insurance, politicized documentarian Moore summons all his vast powers of zany black humor and graceful splicing to produce a work that will leave the audience needing a doctor; that is, sickened and hurt at the diseased bureaucracy America lets prevail everyday on its own doorstep. Yet the true up-lift of Sicko isn't in the incendiary way Moore destroys the healthcare industry, it's in his contemplative and logical final thesis – that if other, "lesser" nations have found plausible alternatives (e.g. Britain, France, Canada, and Cuba), then why can't we? – and the catharsis he allows himself, a wiser and more thoughtful filmmaker, and the audience to draw from that.
10. Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
The ironic contradiction at the heart of Sweeney Todd is that, usually, a very good movie begets some level of enjoyment (hey, even The Departed, with its brain-busting climax, thrilled me) in its audience; Todd, yet another stage-adaptation (this time, by Gothic maestro Tim Burton – a vastly underrated director), does occasionally delight – the sweepingly cynical "A Little Priest"; the minuscule opener "No Place Like London" – but so much more of its charge comes from the tragic melodrama at the core of the film. Namely, there's a murderous barber (Johnny Depp, in grand emotive form) out for revenge against a conniving judge (Alan Rickman, trilled to his own sarcastic baritone) who gets involved with a cannibalistic, pragmatic pie-maker (Helena Bonham Carter…who can act!) while slashing the throats of his own customers. It is, obviously, violent, disturbing, and tragic stuff; and the biggest surprise isn't that Burton & Co. manage to (mostly) pull off Sondheim's deepest-black production, it's that the talent involved – from the actors, to the director (finally, perhaps, getting wide-scale award recognition), to the legendary composer/lyricist himself (who wrote some of his most operatic, heart-rending, and bleakly funny material for Sweeney) – deliver the top of their game. The result can only be this final product, a film to chill and shake you.
The Top Two Television Shows of 2007:
1. 30 Rock
Like being plugged into a line of pure laughing gas for thirty minutes a week, 30 Rock – Tina Fey's improbably enjoyable sitcom about the travails behind a hit sketch show – leaves one feeling giddy and a little unsteady ("Can a sitcom really be making me feel this happy?!") but nonetheless helplessly addicted. Alec Baldwin, as NBC executive Jack Donaghy, stands alone as his own hit of pure glee; and definite, minutes-long applause are in order for the sheer amount of high-wire witty, silly, energy that is packed behind each minute of Rock by Fey and her writers. How nice it is to sit one night a week on a couch with friends or family or a nice cup of tea and laugh, pure and simple, along with a show that can laugh at itself.
2. Friday Night Lights
Sure, it bogged itself down for nearly all of this first-part of the season's run with an uncouth storyline about an attempted-rape-turned-murder while also bogging down two of its most beloved characters – Tyra Collette (Adrianne Palicki) and Landry Clarke (Jesse Plemons); and sure, I'll give you that Friday Night Lights' secret weapon (or one of them at least), that of intimate and heartfelt character interaction between friends (Landry and golden-boy QB1 best friend Matt Saracen – an anguished, if newly underused, Zach Gilford) and family (Kyle Chandler, as Coach Taylor, with Connie Britton, as his delightfully real wife), was nary given a chance to shine these last episodes. And, ok, it wasn't as quintessentially stirring as its first season; but Lights – though it had entire episodes that rang false, and a few too many odd character turns – still retained its awe-inspiring power to shake a viewer, to shake me, and leave one breathless at its unique brand of power: to transcend its confinement, and give life – nay, soul – to its very own small-town discontent. More flawed than I like, but still more gracefully true than most everything else airing.
The Top Two CD's of 2007:
1. Lily Allen: Alright, Still
Though it became a rave-sensation late last year as a British import, Lily Allen's debut album was officially released stateside in January (making it to my list just under the wire, thank goodness) and just as blogs the Internet over went crazy last winter at Allen's cutting, hip-hop influenced lyrics and musical fusions, twice that many came to adore here over these last seasons. Alright, Still is a spiky debut, teetering (in theory) on precociousness, and Allen is by no means a vocal goddess; but she is a talented singer-songwriter and her affinity for warping and curving all manner of musical styles to fit her decidedly unique, and sassy, aesthetic serves her delectably well. Put on "Smile" when you feel self-righteousness; "LDN" for when you're feeling worldly; "Alfie" when you hate to love your family; "Not Big" and "Friend of Mine" for when romance has you down; and Alright, Still when you need to be reminded what true, melodic, smart and catchy talent looks like.
2. Miranda Lambert: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend
Who says there can't be a great country album this year – one of the best in fact? Quite a lot of people, it seems; and so it has always been for Miranda Lambert, whose debut in 2005 was snubbed by country radio but still became a hit. But, if nothing else, Lambert's album proves that her pre-emptive snub by – gasp! – elitist country fans was a huge mistake. On Crazy Ex-Girlfriend the once dreamy-eyed romantic ("Me and Charlie Talking") goes wistful, introspective, fiery, and oh so harmonic. Her second album is a concept album about the concept of small-town romance and the women it affects, and it does the astounding (and, to me, unthinkable): it makes neo-feminism sexy. Lambert, who co-wrote the majority of the songs, views these gals through a multi-faceted prism, be it angry vigilantism (the opener, "Gunpowder and Lead"), sarcastic observance ("Famous in a Small Town"), or (most consistently) the twin nature of wishful pining: regret and desire (lust?). Yet in her hands, these last two feelings go through a re-birth, a cauterization of the heart and are re-born into a catalyst of open-hearted loaner freedom (the Patty Griffin cover "Getting Ready"). Still, she can wax sadly truthful, and two of her best songs – "More Like Her" (an ambiguous and knotty rumination on a love triangle) and "Desperation" (which features the year's most melancholic, powerful refrain: Complicated words slippin' off your tongue and ain't one of them the truth/ I'm still desperate for you) – finally prove it without a doubt: she isn't just this year's Country Best, she may be its best for years to come.
*Note: my list, obviously, has its flaws. I haven't seen half the stuff that is currently setting the award-season abuzz (e.g. Atonement, Into the Wild, Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, etc.), and I can only watch and listen to so much music and television (plus: I don't get HBO, Showtime, and other more prestigious channels with more prestigious fare). I will eventually get to all of this stuff and you will surely know if I've overlooked something. Until then, this is all I have; tell me what I did wrong.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Oscar Post-Show.
I think it goes without saying that last night's ceremony was full of all the usual Oscar trappings. There were the expected winners, the tiresome time fillers, there were the sublime moments pulled off by the sassy ceremony host, and (shockingly enough) there came a moment that I wasn't expecting: I had no idea what was to happen next. So to sum it all up for my dear, dear readers is my experience watching the grandaddy of award shows...enjoy.
To start off there was Ellen. As a comedian (and even as a lesbian) she is unmatched. Mixing though her deft, sensible humor with last year's acerbic and brilliant performance pulled off by John Stewart was no easy task and yet she managed to pull it off. She tripped up only once with a church-choir like dance number that went almost as quickly as she introduced it. To counterpoint that there were comic bits that were pure, 100% Ellen: her interview with the famous directors in the audience (Clint Eastwood + MySpace = Hilarious!), her last-minute vacuum sketch and her general unflappery as a genuine, talented screen presence. Here's to you Ellen, you're officially America's favorite new lesbian comedian!
Yet, I ask you: where would a host be without her material (and by that I mean the nominees)? Nowhere. So shuffle in all you talented actors, writers, directors, and the thousand other technical wizards that concoct glorious screen experience...you're being paged. In unusual fashion, the Oscars handled most of the technical stuff (from which they changed "Best..." to "Achievement in...") in the first 2 hours and started handing out the meat-and-potatoes awards in the last 2 hours. Pan's Labyrinth started off strong in it's several techincal nods but failed on it's two big fronts (Best Foreign Language Film and Best Original Screenplay). Still, foreign cinema had a great night. They first recieved a film tribute and then, throughout the night, every other winner it seemed had only the best to say about the genius of Guillermo Del Toro (all of it true, mind you). As for the other technical nominees (Apocalypto, The Prestige, etc.), they didn't have the greatest run.
On the other front there was the expected (Jennifer Hudson anyone?), and the unexpected (Alan Arkin over Eddie Murphy?!). For the latter I was quite thankful as it changed up the night and it gave me reason to literally wring my hands with worry as Jack Nicholson called the Best Picture winner with Diane Keaton. The Departed here's to you; you managed to come from behind and destroy that predicted frontrunner monolith known as Babel (to who I apologize wholeheartedly...you deserved a better go, buddy)!
As for the other Oscar nonsense, the dancers "film poster interpretations" were quite entertaining. The sound effect choir was a quirky treat. The speechs never veered too far into irritation or camp. Oh and who can forget the Dreamgirls once again performing (Live! Bill Condon!) thier 3 nominated Best Songs? It was rapturous and fun...just like the film itself. Speaking of music, Melissa Etheridge pulled off a win for her An Inconvenient Truth song, and her blusey showing on the stage was none too shabby either. Speaking of Al Gore, that guy was everywhere and after 4 hours the jokes started to grate. Still, if one is going to represent a Vice-President over and over at the entertainment world's biggest night I'd rather it be Gore than Cheney. All in all I'd have to say that this year was a pretty solid mix of the engaging and the expected and as I drifted off to dreamland somewhere near 1 o'clock in the morning, I'd have to say that was just fine with me.
Oscar Predictions.
As the Oscars are only a few weeks away (Feb. 25th for those of us that still live under rocks), I've decided to post my 2nd annual (whoot whoot) Oscar predictions. Now granted these aren't full proof (Crash anyone?), but they are mine. Enjoy.
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Oscar Predictions, 2007:
Best Adapted Screenplay -
Who should win: Alfonso Cuaron's sizzling script for Children of Men was a late holiday treat, and Patrick Marber's sense of humor turned Notes on a Scandal into a riotous good time. Still, it's William Monahan's powerfully poingnant, and equally humane, screenplay for The Departed that is most deserving.
Who will win: It's a tough call but since Babel wasn't nominated here, expect The Departed to take home the gold.
Best Original Screenplay -
Who should win: Quality wise, it'll have to be a three-way tie. Peter Morgan balanced media and morality in The Queen to stunning effect while Guillermo Arriaga intertwined massive continents and wildly differing cultures in Babel to come up with an impressive drama. And that other Guillermo (Del Toro) crafted a remarkably brilliant drama/fantasy in Pan's Labyrinth. Ultimately though, my vote'd go to Del Toro for going where so few writers have dared venture and returning all the more talented for it.
Who will win: Did I say Babel got nominated here? There is a chance though that Peter Morgan could steal the win and the little engine that could, Little Miss Sunshine, is sneaking up from behind even as we speak.
Best Supporting Actor -
Who should win: Mark Wahlberg and Eddie Murphy both turned in some career-revitalizing work and Alan Arkin was none to shabby as the coke-snorting gramps in Sunshine but I've fallen hardest for Murphy returning to the fast and furious star he was born to be.
Who will win: Again the spector of Sunshine hangs over this, just waiting at the chance of an upset but since Eddie won the SAG, I'll bet he gets the win here too.
Best Supporting Actress -
Who should win: Two Babel star's are nominated here (Adriana Barranza and Rinko Kikuchi) and who can forget those two white chicks gone great (I'm speaking of course of Cate Blanchett and Abigail Breslin)? Still, it's Jennifer Hudson's prowling, ferocious turn as divalicious Effie in Dreamgirls that is a stand-up-and-cheer performance.
Who will win: Did I mention Jennifer Hudson?
Best Actor -
Who should win: Will Smith is a shock in Pursuit of Happyness and Ryan Gosling has earned raves all year as his coke-addicted middle school teacher in Half Nelson, but Forest Whittaker's towering rendition of Idi Amin takes the cake.
Who will win: Forrest Whittaker has garnered nearly all the pre-Oscar awards and shows no signs of stopping now.
Best Actress -
Who should win: Apologies are in order to two of our greatest living actresses, Meryl Streep and Helen Mirren, but this year is the year of Dame Dench and her tour-de-force as an obsessed schoolteacher.
Who will win: All hail the Queen in The Queen! That means you, Helen Mirren.
Best Director -
Who should win: Though Martin Scorsese, Stephen Frears, Clint Eastwood, and Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu all did admirable and admittedly difficult work on their films, it's Paul Greengrass (that rough-and-tumble guy behind United 93) who astounded me most and left me as deeply wounded as I was overjoyed at his work.
Who will win: There isn't a chance in hell that Martin Scorsese won't win, sadly though it'll be his first out of six nods.
Best Picture -
Who should win: Though I liked every nominee, and loved most of them (sorry Sunshine), I found The Departed to be the most thrillingly violent, and whip-smart fun I've had at the multiplex since Kill Bill.
Who will win: Letters From Iwo Jima's early, and intense, critical praise is probably what earned it a suprise nod (the same could be said of indie Cindarella Story Little Miss Sunshine). And The Queen could sneak in a few wins in other categories but not this one. Instead, it looks like a battle between The Departed and Babel, although with Babel's rocky pre-Oscar road it may be a tough one for them to win. Also Little Miss Sunshine's upset at the SAG's reeks of another Crash incident. In the end though, and with the not-so-soon-forgotten Globe win, Babel will take Hollywood's most coveted golden man.
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Well there it is folks, my favorites and industry favorites. Who should be cheering come that night in the Kodak Theater and who actually will be. As always, tell me what you thought.
See you Feburary 25th.
Golden Globes Post-Show
Hollywood's second most important night has again been brought to a close. Last year it was to the appaluse of Ang Lee as he ascended the stage for Brokeback Mountain's Best Picture Golden Globe. Tonight, Alejandro Gonzales Innauritu was ecstatic that Babel won. Either way, and either year, there were good things, bad things, sad things, and ugly things. Here's what I have to say:
The Good: Jennifer Hudson won for her explosion of talent that was a performance in Dreamgirls. Eddie Murphy did the same for the exact same movie. Peter Morgan picked up a globe for his powerfully witty script for The Queen. Sacha Baron Cohen won a globe for his "performance" as dimbulb journalist Borat in Borat. Meryl Streep and Helen Mirren both one Best Actress globes and Mrs. Streep delightfully prattled on for about 5 minutes. Kyra Sedgewick upset everyone by garnering a globe for her performance on The Closer. Hugh Laurie's "speech" was great. Warren Beaty made a very long thank you ramble for receiving the life-time achievement award from Tom Hanks after his pretty neat video tribute.
The Bad: Jeremy Piven didn't manage to squeeze past the monolith that is Elizabeth I and pick up an award for his continually brilliant performance on Entourage. Some strange Happy Feet song by Prince picked up the win for Best Song, even though Beyonce's "Listen" was both better and more favored. Sadly, Prince was stuck in traffic at the time so he couldn't accept..thus provoking Justin T. to mock him. Warren Beaty made a very long thank you speech.
The Sad: The accepted winners were everywhere tonight (ex: Helen Mirren reigned over the entire thing picking up two globes and being mentioned by everyone and their mother who crossed the golden podium, Hugh Laurie won again). Will Smith couldn't pull a victory from the jaws of Forrest Whittaker for Best Actor. At least he'll get nominated. Babel won Best Picture, even though not only The Departed but The Queen also were higher in quality. Still, if Babel eventually takes that golden man for the same thing I won't be too upset. Oh and, Warren Beaty made a very long thank you.
The Ugly: Clint Eastwood, having just won for Best Foreign Film, mocked Jennifer Hudson's acceptance speech (which was amazing by the way). People were shocked and awed that television's freshman suprise (and most overrated thing currently airing) Ugly Betty not only won Best Comedy, but Best Actress for America Ferrarra. Where's the love for The Office,
Entourage, or even Scrubs?
Well that's it for me. If you agreed, disagreed, hated it, didn't read it or whatever tell me why. I'm always curious.
See you next awards analysis.
The Good: Jennifer Hudson won for her explosion of talent that was a performance in Dreamgirls. Eddie Murphy did the same for the exact same movie. Peter Morgan picked up a globe for his powerfully witty script for The Queen. Sacha Baron Cohen won a globe for his "performance" as dimbulb journalist Borat in Borat. Meryl Streep and Helen Mirren both one Best Actress globes and Mrs. Streep delightfully prattled on for about 5 minutes. Kyra Sedgewick upset everyone by garnering a globe for her performance on The Closer. Hugh Laurie's "speech" was great. Warren Beaty made a very long thank you ramble for receiving the life-time achievement award from Tom Hanks after his pretty neat video tribute.
The Bad: Jeremy Piven didn't manage to squeeze past the monolith that is Elizabeth I and pick up an award for his continually brilliant performance on Entourage. Some strange Happy Feet song by Prince picked up the win for Best Song, even though Beyonce's "Listen" was both better and more favored. Sadly, Prince was stuck in traffic at the time so he couldn't accept..thus provoking Justin T. to mock him. Warren Beaty made a very long thank you speech.
The Sad: The accepted winners were everywhere tonight (ex: Helen Mirren reigned over the entire thing picking up two globes and being mentioned by everyone and their mother who crossed the golden podium, Hugh Laurie won again). Will Smith couldn't pull a victory from the jaws of Forrest Whittaker for Best Actor. At least he'll get nominated. Babel won Best Picture, even though not only The Departed but The Queen also were higher in quality. Still, if Babel eventually takes that golden man for the same thing I won't be too upset. Oh and, Warren Beaty made a very long thank you.
The Ugly: Clint Eastwood, having just won for Best Foreign Film, mocked Jennifer Hudson's acceptance speech (which was amazing by the way). People were shocked and awed that television's freshman suprise (and most overrated thing currently airing) Ugly Betty not only won Best Comedy, but Best Actress for America Ferrarra. Where's the love for The Office,
Entourage, or even Scrubs?
Well that's it for me. If you agreed, disagreed, hated it, didn't read it or whatever tell me why. I'm always curious.
See you next awards analysis.
The Best of 2006.
Here, for everyone's enjoyment and reading pleasure, are my picks for the very best in entertainment in 2006. For a year of entertainment that reveled in the darkness (death, chaos, poverty, terrorism, global warming) there still managed to be quite a few bright spots, all of which are critiqued and glorified below. I hope you agree with me (that means you saw, heard, and read some pretty great stuff this year) and if you didn't, tell me why. I'm always curious.
Top 10 Movies of 2006 -
1 - A Prairie Home Companion
It's as warm and inviting as a spot of cool shade on a hot summer day, it's funnier than it has any right to be and, from a structural standpoint, a mess. So what is it that makes this shambling movie about the (fictional) end of the (real) radio show "A Prairie Home Companion" so wonderful, so deserving of the title "Best Movie of the Year"? Perhaps it's the actors; after all they are the objects of Robert Altman's roaming camera. Those curious people who imbue their even more curious characters with the kind of ragged and lovely sensibility that we can relate to because we sometimes feel that way right after a particularly long day. Or perhaps it is something else. Maybe it's Garrison Keillor (who plays a riff of himself here), that narrator of the (real) radio show who, as a first-time screenwriter, wrote the script for this (fictional) movie. His hypnotic baritone has a tendency to launch off into 1,000 different variations of the same story when given even the slightest provocation and his pre-television era commercials are insular capsules of nostalgic delight. Or just maybe what makes this movie so good is the music. After all, the greatest moment in the movie comes as nearly the entire cast harmonizes together on a beautiful song that evokes a church choir in its faithful croon. I'm inclined to believe something different though: it's probably a combination of all three that makes this movie fabulous; that transforms it into a salty-and-sweet mixture that proves once again that Robert Altman is a master of portraying Americana in its entire riveting splendor. What a tragic and ironic fact though that Robert Altman's last movie would be a sterling mediation on death and the ineffable quality that makes life worth living.
2 - Marie Antoinette
Floating along on currents of deep sadness and spontaneous joy, Marie Antoinette is a movie that is both enthralling and melancholy. Gifted with an omnipotent sense of femininity, writer-director Sofia Coppola has crafted an epic character study of history's most notorious bad girl, French queen Marie Antoinette (played to perfection by Kirsten Dunst), that is as impressive in its narrative talent as in its glossy hipness. Coppola has envisioned a world where decadence is paraded as fashion instead of rot, where an outpouring of emotion is looked down on, and where girls just can't ever have fun. In between the moments when 80's New Wave music starts to blast and the monkey is exiled from the kingdom you realize something fantastically strange is going down. The magnificence of it all though is that when the queen grimaces at her various plights we know why. When she sobs unbeknownst to her palace in a quiet little drawing room, we know why. Never has the mind of a monarch been more intelligently dissected and never has it been such a pleasure to watch. There in lies the beauty and the tragedy of a girl who simply wanted to party and got her head handed to her.
3 - Casino Royale
Armed with grace and wit enough to carry two movies, James Bond's latest flick is also the series' best: an action flick that evokes laughter, joy, sadness, and thrills all in equal measure. Directed by a man of inventive glee and written with a bracing urgency, it would be foolish to call this a no-thrills spurt of adrenaline. However, luckily, it is hardly decadent. Instead it is something more along the lines of cheeky violence: a picture that is well aware that it may be considered "brainless" and smart enough to know it's anything but. When Daniel Craig first steps onto the screen as pre-007 secret agent James Bond, you know you're in for a ride. The second he leaves the screen you know you're left breathless. Though many will call it an action flick I'll go even farther: it's the best piece of commercial filmmaking all year.
4 - The Departed
No one makes them like Scorsese. With his 2006 return to form, and by return to form I mean "one mean, green gangster flick", director Martin Scorsese follows two warring organizations on the streets of Boston: the state police and the crime syndicate led by Frank Costello. Both decide to employ moles in which to infiltrate the other's infrastructure. Both moles are exquisite studies in the paranoia, fear, and white-knuckle tension involved in espionage and the toll it takes on the mind. As played by Matt Damon, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Jack Nicholson the three main players are sweating, grunting, and bleak individuals; people who are literally teetering on the brink and in some cases, as with Costello, have already rolled happily into oblivion. As guided by the steady hand of Scorsese the movie is gleefully, sadistically, interested in the pop and squish of human bodies but it never feels grotesque because the atmosphere of the movie is so realistically, sickeningly, alive. As every person – be they the highest mob boss or the lowliest bureaucrat - scurries back and forth over the streaming streets of Boston the audience finds itself reveling right along with Scorsese in the bruise black nature of racketeering and the ways to fight it.
5 - For Your Consideration
The best satirists are, at heart, their object of mockery's biggest fan and Christopher Guest, in his latest thrillingly improvised piece of hilarious comedy, again proves why that is true. Right when movie award season is reaching its most potent period of nomination woes and let downs comes along the story of exactly the same thing. Veteran actor Marilyn Hack (Catherine O'Hara) is happy toiling away on forgotten independent pictures. Her latest, Home For Purim, is an accented period drama directed by a director (Christopher Guest) who aims for Eraserhead cool and surpasses it. But the moment Marilyn picks up a tidbit of something posted somewhere by somebody about the possibility of an Oscar nomination (in this movie the phrase it pronounced with a touchy reverence) she goes crazy. The rest of the cast and crew (including comedic stalwarts Jennifer Coolidge, Eugene Levy, and Parker Posey among others) soon follow. Chronicling the rise and fall of a person's hopes sounds dark and mean, but Guest is more than poking fun at his eccentric actors and their eccentric dreams, he's idolizing them. And along the way manages to elicit more than a few peals of gut-busting laughter.
6 – United 93
Paul Greengrass stages the story of one of the most devastating events in our national history with an almost casual air. Minutes before the plane leaves on the morning of September 11th, a man barely makes it on. Breathing heavily, his face floods with relief and he settles into his seat for the ride. The flight attendants gab and gossip, preparing themselves for another day at work. The suicide bombers pray and bid their lives (and the lives of thousands more) farewell. Greengrass has crafted a movie that is as reverent as it is purposeful. It proposes things about the tragedy that may or may not be true but it's focus will haunt you for days. This is the ride of a lifetime: a thriller than enraptures and terrifies. Bringing us this close to the tragedy is cleansing and nauseating. Watchers beware: you'll be better for watching this movie but you won't feel it.
7 - The Queen
Every year there comes along a character study of such piercing insight, such spellbinding wit that people almost trip over themselves to applaud it. Two years ago it was Sideways. Last year it was Capote. And this year, I'm happy to report, it's Stephen Frear's excellent The Queen. Following a week after ex-Princess Diana's sudden death in a car crash, the movie tells the story from the most surprising point of view: Queen Elizabeth. What continually manages to grab me about this movie is that it never lets anyone fall too far into devilry, instead it continually enlightens without condescending. Based on one of the smartest scripts all year and anchored by the rapturous performances of Helen Mirren and Michael Sheen, the movie is a nearly flawless period piece. As Michael Sheen, playing new Prime Minister Tony Blair, tries to appease the people by bullying the Monarchy into a grand show of bereavement, the audience doesn't glare at him in anger so much as in understanding (thanks completely to the movie's ubiquitous human touch). By playing to the people's now all-consuming love with pop culture, The Queen is a movie that shows how even those atop the highest mountain can suddenly be shoved into the gutter and how they can start climbing out.
8 – Dreamgirls
Some have claimed that Dreamgirls is style without the substance, all flash and no depth. However, if you were to actually indulge yourself in this sassy musical adaptation of the 80's Broadway smash you'd find a movie that is both dark and gleaming. Where Chicago, writer-director Bill Condon's other musical movie amazement, was deliriously indulged and hilariously aware of it; Dreamgirls is girl power to the max: if anyone puts you down, you sing in their face! The story is the rise of "The Dreamettes" as well as the rise of black music in the national conscious played against the volatile political scene of the 60's. The players stumble, fall, drown, and succeed and all of them do it to pulse-pounding, shoe-tapping music. As played by Eddie Murphy, Beyonce, Jamie Foxx, and Danny Glover the black music scene is vividly alive and wonderful to watch. And Jennifer Hudson is a revelation, her rendition of the ballad "And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going" tells the audience one thing: a star has been born. Though sweeter than Chicago, Dreamgirls is more fun….and more flash.
9 - Quinceanera
As written and directed by Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland, you can practically feel the tremors created from colliding cultures. Don't expect the screens to start shaking at your local multiplex though. These tremors manifest themselves as quiet glances, sharp looks, or a disapproving shake of the head. Familial love never looked so real, so palpable. Magdalena is a girl with a lot on her plate: she's coming up on her quinceanera, her 15 year old coming of age party, she's just found out she's pregnant, and her cousin has just come out of the closet. Promptly kicked out of her house, she and her cousin take refuge with their Yoda-like grandfather, Tomas. What ensues could have come off as "After School Special" but buoyed by a clever script and strikingly appealing performances, we're far more touched and involved than preached to. The movie was as sensation at Sundance this past year and rightfully so, it's everything Little Miss Sunshine wasn't: pointed without being showy, smart without being slapstick, and warm without being prickly. What makes it deserved of 10-bestness? The fact that it'll go down real easy and leave you wanting another.
10 – An Inconvenient Truth:
Al Gore: almost president (our loss) and eloquent trumpeter against the dangers of Global Warming (our gain). In this Davis Guggenheim directed documentary based on Gore's PowerPoint presentation, the famously boring politician proves himself a master of the stage. As he soars about on his motor vehicles and shows us disturbing facts with his laser pointer he invites us to partake of his outrage: how can an administration so involved with "helping the world" adamantly deny the facts of Global Warming? Gore himself is a witty charmer, and as he unspools graph after devastating graph he becomes more than that: he transforms into a prophet of unheralded doom, a fate we can change but are far too uninformed to. Hopefully, with this artfully enjoyable docu-film, we won't be any more.
Top 2 CDs of 2006 -
1 – St. Elsewhere: Gnarls Barkley
As extraordinary as this record is, it is as equally difficult to write about. With its ever changing musical styles and tracks that flip from sensational R&B to rapid-fire techno in the blink of an eye, a term like "musical schizophrenia" doesn't even begin to cover it. Gnarls Barkley, a duo that is comprised of Goodie Mobster Cee-Lo and Gorillaz producer Danger Mouse, is the most self-involved band around. With screwy, introverted tracks like "Just A Thought", "Crazy", and "Who Cares?" they examine in detail the inner-workings of a deranged man. Sounds preachy? Not when the delivered by Cee-Lo in his wacky, verbose lyrics (was knowing your weakness/what made you strong?) and seductive rasp. Armed with such a voice and a delivery that is powerfully seductive, Gnarls Barkley sucks you into a world filled with midnight monsters, "sexy suicide", and decorative house ware. Eclectic certainly and scrambled but it does manage to make one point over and over: this is the best album of the year.
2 - Taking The Long Way: The Dixie Chicks
Though rampantly controversial, The Dixie Chicks have never sounded all that angry. Their previous albums were quaint, folkie productions full of mandolin solos. Here though, that's all been replaced by the howling voice of Natalie Maines and a musical background just as fierce. Gifted with a red-hot pen, the Chicks crank out some of the toughest lyrics all year. When Maines belts out "I fought with a stranger…I found myself" it's apparent that a few years off have done anything but made her repentant. Of course, screaming doesn't prove anything. So when on "Easy Silence" the quiet lyric "watching war made us immune" pops up it's provocative but not surprising. Though outsized and powerful, "Taking The Long Way" is also personal and filled to the brim with guest producers and musicians (such as John Mayer); instead of a full house though we get some excellent guest spots. The CD is a mesmerizing, dark, grand, and soaring tribute to romance, love, life, and everything in between. Maybe The Dixie Chicks should get mad more often.
Top 2 Television Shows of 2006 -
1 - Battlestar Gallactica
Who ever said you could judge a book by its cover? If you ever believed that phrase then you've probably never indulged in the best thing currently on basic cable. Certainly there are reasons to be wary: it's a SciFi Channel "original series", it involves a lot of shiny robot things, and it features its own foreign vernacular (i.e. "frak"). However, if you're willing to be adventurous, you'll find a show that goes to places that few others do (certainly not the shows that air every night on Fox or NBC). In the process of following the ongoing saga of humanity's search for the lost colony of Earth away from the hostile Cylons, a race of immortal robotic beings governed by 7 factions of humanoids, there happens to be some of the sharpest writing out there (as well as one of the best ensemble casts). Ever thought there would be debates over mass genocide using nuclear weapons, as well as questioning the morals behind torture and terrorism while watching big shiny things explode? How about struggles against starvation, disease, infidelity, or anarchy? These are just a few surprises in store for the viewers of television's most powerful show.
2 – Friday Night Lights
What is so enjoyable about this show is the way that every break in dialogue, every desperate glance from each character toiling away in their own small-town unhappiness is equally heartbreaking and promising. What The Office did with comedy in a small town white-collar job, Friday Night Lights does with drama in small town sports. When the Dylan, Texas football team lost its star quarterback Jason Street the whole town collectively shook as one: his personal devastation became every ones. And the joys, perils, and grandly mundane struggles of each player as the team is rebuilt becomes not just theirs, but ours as well.
Top 2 Books of 2006 –
1 - Winkie: Clifford Chase
The most original book of the year is also the best. Stunningly poetic and gleefully insane, what starts out as a meditation on the nature of childhood toys (what do they think about while they sit, gathering dust, high up on a shelf?) effortlessly changes into a blunt satire of the Justice System. One day stuffed teddy bear Winkie discovers he/she (Winkie is both sexes) has the ability to move so he/she/it does. Winkie leaps off its shelf and begins to roam the neighborhood, soon finding itself in the woods and with child (Baby Winkie, who may be God). Through a series of ever stranger events Winkie is accused of being a terrorist and sent to trial. What follows is some of the most engaging storytelling all year, filled with heartbreaking memories and quick wit. Debut novelist Clifford Chase proves himself adept at writing numerous things: a pseudo-sequel to The Velveteen Rabbit, prose poetry, a heartrending study of love and memory, and a poisonous satire of just about everything to do with modern culture. The joy is that he manages to do it all in one tiny little masterpiece about an even tinier bear.
2 – The Ruins: Scott Smith
By changing the focus from the killer to the killed, Scott Smith has written a novel that is drenched in blood and fear at every turn. When six tourists decide that it would be just groovy to go hunting for one of their own on a seemingly domestic flower-covered hill, they unknowingly drop themselves into a gore-filled game of cat and mouse that is as wonderful to read as it is frightening. Ever character, from Amy the pessimist to Jeff the "hero", is written with such an elegant, steely intelligence that you can almost feel their hot breath blowing at you from off the page. Smith succeeds were few others do: he creates living, breathing specimens of psychological stereotypes to kill off in the most delightful ways. By repulsing and propelling us in equal measure, he's written one of the best books of the year and a horror novel that transcends its genre.
Top 10 Movies of 2006 -
1 - A Prairie Home Companion
It's as warm and inviting as a spot of cool shade on a hot summer day, it's funnier than it has any right to be and, from a structural standpoint, a mess. So what is it that makes this shambling movie about the (fictional) end of the (real) radio show "A Prairie Home Companion" so wonderful, so deserving of the title "Best Movie of the Year"? Perhaps it's the actors; after all they are the objects of Robert Altman's roaming camera. Those curious people who imbue their even more curious characters with the kind of ragged and lovely sensibility that we can relate to because we sometimes feel that way right after a particularly long day. Or perhaps it is something else. Maybe it's Garrison Keillor (who plays a riff of himself here), that narrator of the (real) radio show who, as a first-time screenwriter, wrote the script for this (fictional) movie. His hypnotic baritone has a tendency to launch off into 1,000 different variations of the same story when given even the slightest provocation and his pre-television era commercials are insular capsules of nostalgic delight. Or just maybe what makes this movie so good is the music. After all, the greatest moment in the movie comes as nearly the entire cast harmonizes together on a beautiful song that evokes a church choir in its faithful croon. I'm inclined to believe something different though: it's probably a combination of all three that makes this movie fabulous; that transforms it into a salty-and-sweet mixture that proves once again that Robert Altman is a master of portraying Americana in its entire riveting splendor. What a tragic and ironic fact though that Robert Altman's last movie would be a sterling mediation on death and the ineffable quality that makes life worth living.
2 - Marie Antoinette
Floating along on currents of deep sadness and spontaneous joy, Marie Antoinette is a movie that is both enthralling and melancholy. Gifted with an omnipotent sense of femininity, writer-director Sofia Coppola has crafted an epic character study of history's most notorious bad girl, French queen Marie Antoinette (played to perfection by Kirsten Dunst), that is as impressive in its narrative talent as in its glossy hipness. Coppola has envisioned a world where decadence is paraded as fashion instead of rot, where an outpouring of emotion is looked down on, and where girls just can't ever have fun. In between the moments when 80's New Wave music starts to blast and the monkey is exiled from the kingdom you realize something fantastically strange is going down. The magnificence of it all though is that when the queen grimaces at her various plights we know why. When she sobs unbeknownst to her palace in a quiet little drawing room, we know why. Never has the mind of a monarch been more intelligently dissected and never has it been such a pleasure to watch. There in lies the beauty and the tragedy of a girl who simply wanted to party and got her head handed to her.
3 - Casino Royale
Armed with grace and wit enough to carry two movies, James Bond's latest flick is also the series' best: an action flick that evokes laughter, joy, sadness, and thrills all in equal measure. Directed by a man of inventive glee and written with a bracing urgency, it would be foolish to call this a no-thrills spurt of adrenaline. However, luckily, it is hardly decadent. Instead it is something more along the lines of cheeky violence: a picture that is well aware that it may be considered "brainless" and smart enough to know it's anything but. When Daniel Craig first steps onto the screen as pre-007 secret agent James Bond, you know you're in for a ride. The second he leaves the screen you know you're left breathless. Though many will call it an action flick I'll go even farther: it's the best piece of commercial filmmaking all year.
4 - The Departed
No one makes them like Scorsese. With his 2006 return to form, and by return to form I mean "one mean, green gangster flick", director Martin Scorsese follows two warring organizations on the streets of Boston: the state police and the crime syndicate led by Frank Costello. Both decide to employ moles in which to infiltrate the other's infrastructure. Both moles are exquisite studies in the paranoia, fear, and white-knuckle tension involved in espionage and the toll it takes on the mind. As played by Matt Damon, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Jack Nicholson the three main players are sweating, grunting, and bleak individuals; people who are literally teetering on the brink and in some cases, as with Costello, have already rolled happily into oblivion. As guided by the steady hand of Scorsese the movie is gleefully, sadistically, interested in the pop and squish of human bodies but it never feels grotesque because the atmosphere of the movie is so realistically, sickeningly, alive. As every person – be they the highest mob boss or the lowliest bureaucrat - scurries back and forth over the streaming streets of Boston the audience finds itself reveling right along with Scorsese in the bruise black nature of racketeering and the ways to fight it.
5 - For Your Consideration
The best satirists are, at heart, their object of mockery's biggest fan and Christopher Guest, in his latest thrillingly improvised piece of hilarious comedy, again proves why that is true. Right when movie award season is reaching its most potent period of nomination woes and let downs comes along the story of exactly the same thing. Veteran actor Marilyn Hack (Catherine O'Hara) is happy toiling away on forgotten independent pictures. Her latest, Home For Purim, is an accented period drama directed by a director (Christopher Guest) who aims for Eraserhead cool and surpasses it. But the moment Marilyn picks up a tidbit of something posted somewhere by somebody about the possibility of an Oscar nomination (in this movie the phrase it pronounced with a touchy reverence) she goes crazy. The rest of the cast and crew (including comedic stalwarts Jennifer Coolidge, Eugene Levy, and Parker Posey among others) soon follow. Chronicling the rise and fall of a person's hopes sounds dark and mean, but Guest is more than poking fun at his eccentric actors and their eccentric dreams, he's idolizing them. And along the way manages to elicit more than a few peals of gut-busting laughter.
6 – United 93
Paul Greengrass stages the story of one of the most devastating events in our national history with an almost casual air. Minutes before the plane leaves on the morning of September 11th, a man barely makes it on. Breathing heavily, his face floods with relief and he settles into his seat for the ride. The flight attendants gab and gossip, preparing themselves for another day at work. The suicide bombers pray and bid their lives (and the lives of thousands more) farewell. Greengrass has crafted a movie that is as reverent as it is purposeful. It proposes things about the tragedy that may or may not be true but it's focus will haunt you for days. This is the ride of a lifetime: a thriller than enraptures and terrifies. Bringing us this close to the tragedy is cleansing and nauseating. Watchers beware: you'll be better for watching this movie but you won't feel it.
7 - The Queen
Every year there comes along a character study of such piercing insight, such spellbinding wit that people almost trip over themselves to applaud it. Two years ago it was Sideways. Last year it was Capote. And this year, I'm happy to report, it's Stephen Frear's excellent The Queen. Following a week after ex-Princess Diana's sudden death in a car crash, the movie tells the story from the most surprising point of view: Queen Elizabeth. What continually manages to grab me about this movie is that it never lets anyone fall too far into devilry, instead it continually enlightens without condescending. Based on one of the smartest scripts all year and anchored by the rapturous performances of Helen Mirren and Michael Sheen, the movie is a nearly flawless period piece. As Michael Sheen, playing new Prime Minister Tony Blair, tries to appease the people by bullying the Monarchy into a grand show of bereavement, the audience doesn't glare at him in anger so much as in understanding (thanks completely to the movie's ubiquitous human touch). By playing to the people's now all-consuming love with pop culture, The Queen is a movie that shows how even those atop the highest mountain can suddenly be shoved into the gutter and how they can start climbing out.
8 – Dreamgirls
Some have claimed that Dreamgirls is style without the substance, all flash and no depth. However, if you were to actually indulge yourself in this sassy musical adaptation of the 80's Broadway smash you'd find a movie that is both dark and gleaming. Where Chicago, writer-director Bill Condon's other musical movie amazement, was deliriously indulged and hilariously aware of it; Dreamgirls is girl power to the max: if anyone puts you down, you sing in their face! The story is the rise of "The Dreamettes" as well as the rise of black music in the national conscious played against the volatile political scene of the 60's. The players stumble, fall, drown, and succeed and all of them do it to pulse-pounding, shoe-tapping music. As played by Eddie Murphy, Beyonce, Jamie Foxx, and Danny Glover the black music scene is vividly alive and wonderful to watch. And Jennifer Hudson is a revelation, her rendition of the ballad "And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going" tells the audience one thing: a star has been born. Though sweeter than Chicago, Dreamgirls is more fun….and more flash.
9 - Quinceanera
As written and directed by Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland, you can practically feel the tremors created from colliding cultures. Don't expect the screens to start shaking at your local multiplex though. These tremors manifest themselves as quiet glances, sharp looks, or a disapproving shake of the head. Familial love never looked so real, so palpable. Magdalena is a girl with a lot on her plate: she's coming up on her quinceanera, her 15 year old coming of age party, she's just found out she's pregnant, and her cousin has just come out of the closet. Promptly kicked out of her house, she and her cousin take refuge with their Yoda-like grandfather, Tomas. What ensues could have come off as "After School Special" but buoyed by a clever script and strikingly appealing performances, we're far more touched and involved than preached to. The movie was as sensation at Sundance this past year and rightfully so, it's everything Little Miss Sunshine wasn't: pointed without being showy, smart without being slapstick, and warm without being prickly. What makes it deserved of 10-bestness? The fact that it'll go down real easy and leave you wanting another.
10 – An Inconvenient Truth:
Al Gore: almost president (our loss) and eloquent trumpeter against the dangers of Global Warming (our gain). In this Davis Guggenheim directed documentary based on Gore's PowerPoint presentation, the famously boring politician proves himself a master of the stage. As he soars about on his motor vehicles and shows us disturbing facts with his laser pointer he invites us to partake of his outrage: how can an administration so involved with "helping the world" adamantly deny the facts of Global Warming? Gore himself is a witty charmer, and as he unspools graph after devastating graph he becomes more than that: he transforms into a prophet of unheralded doom, a fate we can change but are far too uninformed to. Hopefully, with this artfully enjoyable docu-film, we won't be any more.
Top 2 CDs of 2006 -
1 – St. Elsewhere: Gnarls Barkley
As extraordinary as this record is, it is as equally difficult to write about. With its ever changing musical styles and tracks that flip from sensational R&B to rapid-fire techno in the blink of an eye, a term like "musical schizophrenia" doesn't even begin to cover it. Gnarls Barkley, a duo that is comprised of Goodie Mobster Cee-Lo and Gorillaz producer Danger Mouse, is the most self-involved band around. With screwy, introverted tracks like "Just A Thought", "Crazy", and "Who Cares?" they examine in detail the inner-workings of a deranged man. Sounds preachy? Not when the delivered by Cee-Lo in his wacky, verbose lyrics (was knowing your weakness/what made you strong?) and seductive rasp. Armed with such a voice and a delivery that is powerfully seductive, Gnarls Barkley sucks you into a world filled with midnight monsters, "sexy suicide", and decorative house ware. Eclectic certainly and scrambled but it does manage to make one point over and over: this is the best album of the year.
2 - Taking The Long Way: The Dixie Chicks
Though rampantly controversial, The Dixie Chicks have never sounded all that angry. Their previous albums were quaint, folkie productions full of mandolin solos. Here though, that's all been replaced by the howling voice of Natalie Maines and a musical background just as fierce. Gifted with a red-hot pen, the Chicks crank out some of the toughest lyrics all year. When Maines belts out "I fought with a stranger…I found myself" it's apparent that a few years off have done anything but made her repentant. Of course, screaming doesn't prove anything. So when on "Easy Silence" the quiet lyric "watching war made us immune" pops up it's provocative but not surprising. Though outsized and powerful, "Taking The Long Way" is also personal and filled to the brim with guest producers and musicians (such as John Mayer); instead of a full house though we get some excellent guest spots. The CD is a mesmerizing, dark, grand, and soaring tribute to romance, love, life, and everything in between. Maybe The Dixie Chicks should get mad more often.
Top 2 Television Shows of 2006 -
1 - Battlestar Gallactica
Who ever said you could judge a book by its cover? If you ever believed that phrase then you've probably never indulged in the best thing currently on basic cable. Certainly there are reasons to be wary: it's a SciFi Channel "original series", it involves a lot of shiny robot things, and it features its own foreign vernacular (i.e. "frak"). However, if you're willing to be adventurous, you'll find a show that goes to places that few others do (certainly not the shows that air every night on Fox or NBC). In the process of following the ongoing saga of humanity's search for the lost colony of Earth away from the hostile Cylons, a race of immortal robotic beings governed by 7 factions of humanoids, there happens to be some of the sharpest writing out there (as well as one of the best ensemble casts). Ever thought there would be debates over mass genocide using nuclear weapons, as well as questioning the morals behind torture and terrorism while watching big shiny things explode? How about struggles against starvation, disease, infidelity, or anarchy? These are just a few surprises in store for the viewers of television's most powerful show.
2 – Friday Night Lights
What is so enjoyable about this show is the way that every break in dialogue, every desperate glance from each character toiling away in their own small-town unhappiness is equally heartbreaking and promising. What The Office did with comedy in a small town white-collar job, Friday Night Lights does with drama in small town sports. When the Dylan, Texas football team lost its star quarterback Jason Street the whole town collectively shook as one: his personal devastation became every ones. And the joys, perils, and grandly mundane struggles of each player as the team is rebuilt becomes not just theirs, but ours as well.
Top 2 Books of 2006 –
1 - Winkie: Clifford Chase
The most original book of the year is also the best. Stunningly poetic and gleefully insane, what starts out as a meditation on the nature of childhood toys (what do they think about while they sit, gathering dust, high up on a shelf?) effortlessly changes into a blunt satire of the Justice System. One day stuffed teddy bear Winkie discovers he/she (Winkie is both sexes) has the ability to move so he/she/it does. Winkie leaps off its shelf and begins to roam the neighborhood, soon finding itself in the woods and with child (Baby Winkie, who may be God). Through a series of ever stranger events Winkie is accused of being a terrorist and sent to trial. What follows is some of the most engaging storytelling all year, filled with heartbreaking memories and quick wit. Debut novelist Clifford Chase proves himself adept at writing numerous things: a pseudo-sequel to The Velveteen Rabbit, prose poetry, a heartrending study of love and memory, and a poisonous satire of just about everything to do with modern culture. The joy is that he manages to do it all in one tiny little masterpiece about an even tinier bear.
2 – The Ruins: Scott Smith
By changing the focus from the killer to the killed, Scott Smith has written a novel that is drenched in blood and fear at every turn. When six tourists decide that it would be just groovy to go hunting for one of their own on a seemingly domestic flower-covered hill, they unknowingly drop themselves into a gore-filled game of cat and mouse that is as wonderful to read as it is frightening. Ever character, from Amy the pessimist to Jeff the "hero", is written with such an elegant, steely intelligence that you can almost feel their hot breath blowing at you from off the page. Smith succeeds were few others do: he creates living, breathing specimens of psychological stereotypes to kill off in the most delightful ways. By repulsing and propelling us in equal measure, he's written one of the best books of the year and a horror novel that transcends its genre.
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