Top 25 Films of 2009, Part II [The Quickening]

Let's hope this feels canonical, or even approaches some half-hearted grasp at comprehension. Last year's list? A mere child's folly.


#20. Antichrist (Dir. Lars Von Trier)

[Disclaimer: For the love of God, do not Google-image-search the word 'Antichrist' by itself. Such hellish imaginings as populate the minds of serial murderers lie therein...]

It almost goes without saying that those with delicate sensibilities should steer clear of this one. Von Trier has made a film that - for its first hour - is an absolutely masterful horror film. His grasp of film language is evident, and his mastery of it is displayed over the bulk of this film's run-time. And then...things get tricky. I've seen the film twice now - once through an absolutely horrid, watermarked-all-to-hell transfer, and the other time through a masterful Japanese Blu-Ray rip. I think it's a bit of an understatement to say my opinions towards the film needed at least a second viewing to sort out. I still think it loses its way in its last half hour, which doesn't feature all that much violence and carnage, but what's there is condensed to its most effective bits (*shudder*) - but I think its first hour is MUCH stronger than I initially gave it credit for.

Again, this is not a film for everyone, but as the primal howl of an artist in torment (debatable), or as the ultimate practical joke executed by an egotistical filmmaker with complete command of his craft on his most adoring audience - the crowd at Cannes, and by extension, many other unsuspecting innocents (MUCH more likely), this film is equally successful and positively unforgettable. I'd argue that this film is simply impossible to love - but I'm afraid it's merely extremely difficult to love it after a couple of viewings. I don't know that I'll ever watch it again, but I'm also certain I'll never forget it. Rarely do films dare to garner such a visceral reaction from the viewer. This is what a so-called 'art-house horror film' HAD to be. One eventually had to be made (I'm sure some have been attempted...does Ingmar Bergman's Hour of the Wolf count?), and it had to be this divisive, this bold, this full of itself, and this impeccably crafted.

It is what it is, and its first hour is as strong as many films released this year. Even though I feel the film loses its way in its final moments, that doesn't change the fact that they moved me to revulsion and true terror as they unfolded. Few other horror films dare to be this provocative, and if only for that fact alone, Von Trier's achievement here is commendable.


#19. Crank 2: High Voltage (Dir. Neveldine/Taylor)

Goodbye, any credibility I may or may not have built up at this point. Let me begin by first saying that this film cannot but pale in comparison to its predecessor. Neveldine and Taylor were able to forge a particular type of alchemy with the original Crank that simply is not present here. Of course, this film has ample charm of its own. While the pacing may not be quite as breakneck as the first film, this film's still over before it feels like it's even started. It's MUCH more violent and over-the-top in a way that seems almost designed to weed out casual fans of the first one. And, to top it all off, we've got a wonderful little Lloyd Kaufman cameo as the coda to a sequence where Jason Statham turns into a Godzilla-sized man-in-suit monster for a fight scene in the middle of an electrical grid.

In case you haven't noticed at this point, or somehow know absolutely nothing about this film, it's worth noting the level of crazy this film operates on is absolutely remarkable. A sex scene in the middle of a horse racing track? A fake British chat-show dream sequence? A head, attached to wires, in what I can only presume is a vat of amniotic fluid? And the head TALKS? And it's SUBTITLED?!

The cameos are plenty (David Carradine, Geri Halliwell, Corey freaking Haim, Clifton Collins Jr., Bai Ling), and the entire film unfolds as some kind of X-rated Looney Tunes cartoon. Even the relatively major faults within this film (Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite's reprisal of what is essentially his character from the original, and his Full-Body Tourette's is absolutely PAINFUL to watch, and takes you completely out of the film every time it comes up) are ultimately glossed over by how freaking FUN it is. Not to mention the way in which the film was made, with possibly hundreds of tiny HD cameras utilized (and at times destroyed) to capture, in full 1080p, the wonders of human sushi and the kinetic energy of a body flying through a car windshield. That the shooting ratio for this film - shot in 29 days, mind you - was roughly equal to that of Apocalypse Now (!). I mean, everything about this film is inexplicable and all the more remarkable for it. It is perplexing that a major studio would even release a film like this, let alone finance it and call it a wise business decision. As film fans, it would simply be irresponsible of us NOT to be grateful for every single frame of this film.

I suppose I should express my disappointment in this film's lackluster take at the box office, but really, would we have it any other way?


#18. Collapse (Dir. Chris Smith)

What's remarkable about this film is how ambivalent you leave it feeling towards its subject, ex-Los Angeles police officer and creator of the From the Wilderness newsletter, Michael Ruppert. The picture he paints of our current economic situation and our reliance on foreign oil is terrifying in its implications, and yet...how credible as a source is this man? His reactions to many of Smith's questions regarding his legitimacy at least seem to be answered in a frank and honest manner, and oftentimes provide even more food for thought, as when Smith asks him point-blank what he thinks about people who label him a 'conspiracy-theorist.' To which he replies, "I don't deal in conspiracy theory. I deal in conspiracy fact."

Towards the end of the film, Ruppert's arguments take on a grim inevitability, as he rattles off economic facts and oil statistics, and then he just stops. He literally can't go on - and it just pulls the rug out from under the viewer. Smith ends his film focused more on the man than his message, and by the end we're left with a portrait of a wounded, frustrated man nearing the end of his life - a life he's spent struggling to get this message out. Whether or not this film is a warning of things to come - whether or not Ruppet is a man howling on the edge of the village to anyone who will listen about the coming maelstrom crowning over the horizon, this film is never less than riveting and, hands-down, the finest documentary film of this year.

I'm sorely tempted to link to this online, as it's highly unlikely it will be available through any other medium for several months, but I'll simply trust in whoever's reading this to - should they wish to see the film - know how to search it on Google.


#17. The Box (Dir. Richard Kelly)

I am well aware that I am in the minority on this one, but I find this film absolutely riveting from start to finish. I find the performances solid, I find the story intriguing, I find its structure maddening in the best possible way, and I find that I'm nowhere near as bothered that this film's reach exceeds its grasp as many other people seem to be. Kelly's film is remarkably complex, and at times ham-fisted in its earnestness, but I find something so endearing about its failures...it's kind of inexplicable, the affection I feel for this film.

I've literally placed this as high as I possibly could on the list while still being able to sleep soundly at night, but at the same time I'm not certain it doesn't belong higher, really. One thing that Kelly seems to be more interested in crafting than any other filmmaker is true mystery in his films. I can understand how this can be maddening to...most sane people, but I love the lengths he goes to, trying to keep vague and understated in his lofty ambition while remaining compelling and emotionally resonant. Can we not all agree, at this point in his career, that Kelly has at the very least demonstrated that he is second-to-none when it comes to utilizing songs in his films? He's learned every lesson properly from someone like Scorsese on perfect song choice and placement, and there are precious few other filmmakers capable of executing any one particular trait quite so well.

I haven't really talked about the plot of the film, such as it is. Kelly uses his plots as excuses to create atmosphere, and here there is plenty of it (aided immeasurably by an excellent original score from the Arcade Fire and Owen Pallett). The plot that is here is intriguing, and the premise - such as it is - fully realized, but I completely understand the problems people have with this movie. They are, almost perversely, the very things I love about it.


#16. Avatar (Dir. James Cameron)

We were promised many things in advance. That this film would be some sort of 'game-changer' and that it would absolutely revolutionize cinema. And, from the looks of its absolutely unreal box office performance, it could do just that - but it won't be purely because the effects are spectacular (and believe me, they are), but rather because the movie-going public has really responded to this movie. Is it because we've long been wanting to fetishize a fully-CG creature such as Ney'tiri, but have always had to claw our way out of the uncanny valley? I recall when Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within was released, what was one major method they used to promote the film? Photo spreads of its all-CG lead. In fact, that film has a lot of things in common with this one, but I digress...

The story isn't anything miraculous, but the world Cameron has created here is nothing short of remarkable in everything from its scale to its admittedly-1970s-van-art aesthetic. The technology, as well, is up to the task of telling this particular story in a way that would have been unfathomable over a decade ago, when Cameron had the original idea. While there are always plenty of people who will bemoan what could have been - and there are cases to be made for a much stronger film that was abandoned in service of this particular work, see Devin Faraci from CHUD's write-up of Project 880, Cameron's treatment, for starters - there's also something to be said for simply allowing what Cameron's ultimately deemed worth crafting to stand on its own. Additionally, it's not like we can't at this point expect the material from the treatment which was left out of the film (for what are most likely length-related concerns) to not be explored in one of the handful of sequels this property will surely birth, given its ridiculous box-office take to-date.

Evaluated on its own merits, and outside of its context as what Cameron promised would be a 'game-changer,' this film is solid even in spite of a handful of stumbles (dialogue in particular). And as a theatrical experience, it's quite difficult to make a case for it as anything other than not just one of the best offered this year, but one of the best ever crafted. It's not as if Cameron suddenly forgot how to shoot impeccable action sequences. This is the same man who made Aliens, he's going to deliver a fun, riveting experience at the movies. Perhaps the only detriment to this film is that it likely won't hold up on a home theater system, viewed outside of the 3-D environment for which it was specifically crafted.


#15. The White Ribbon (Dir. Michael Haneke)

This is a film I feel woefully unprepared to discuss in any intelligent manner without watching it at least a couple more times. While watching the film, I had a curious feeling that something was just...off, in some way. I love Haneke as a filmmaker, and at the start of this film it felt very much like it could unfold as a typical Haneke film. And, to a certain extent, I suppose it does, but it wasn't quite what I was expecting, and I spent most of the time waiting for the other shoe to drop.

What Haneke gives us here is a haunting film that, ostensibly, is meant to serve as some kind of exploration of how the seeds of evil are sown, and how, specifically, the children of this small town would grow up to become the perpetrators of World War II - highlighted by the end of the film, in which news of the beginning of World War I reaches the small town. This allows plenty of opportunity for Haneke to stage absolutely sublimely-shot sequences of violence, against man, horse AND cabbage - although much more effective are the sequences of violence he implies. As when a mentally-handicapped child from the village is discovered in the woods, near the end of the film, battered and nearly blinded. It speaks to Haneke's unique and invaluable gifts as a filmmaker that this film's stature in my mind has only grown in my mind since first viewing it.

Of all of the films in this Top 25, I could most easily see this film rising into the top 5 of my list with future viewings, but for now I can't in good conscience place it among that company. And I feel certain that part of my initial reaction was simply the mindset I was in when I viewed it - first thing in the morning, a bit sleepy and melancholy. This is a film that needs to be viewed in full possession of one's faculties, and with a mind prepared for an in-depth analysis of everything Haneke's putting on the screen.

In summation, I cannot recommend this film highly enough, and am possibly short-changing it even with that sentiment expressed.

#14. Police, Adjective (Dir. Corneliu Porumboiu)

This film is DRY. Its first FORTY minutes establish a tone that will frustrate as many as it intrigues. As you can probably tell by its placement on this list, I found the film to be an absolute blast from start-to-finish. Its deceptively simple tale of an individual attempting to subvert a rigorously-implemented system through what he at first believes to be simple, logical reasons - and comes to learn are, if anything, the exact opposite...is absolutely hilarious.

Modern Romanian Cinema is apparently entering its golden age of sorts, and of the three films I've seen (this, Porumboiu's equally-hilarious 12:08 East of Bucharest, and the impeccably-crafted but wholly depressing 4 Months, 3 Weeks, & 2 Days), this is quite possibly my favorite. Or, at least, the one I plan to watch the most.

This film's final scene sprawls over 25-30 minutes, if I'm not mistaken, and primarily in one shot. In this shot, the lead character is essentially shown the error of his ways in the most inexplicably mannered, rationally-presented, almost POLITE manner possible, and yet I was simply in awe as the scene built with every twist of the knife, every crisply-worded statement. When the police chief calls for a dictionary, I almost lost it. And yet, though I've mentioned how excellent the final scene is (and it's one of the absolute peaks of cinema this year, in my humble opinion), I can't come close to describing its cumulative effect - nor how engrossing I found the rest of the film to be. From the almost overly-long portions of the film following the lead as he tails a teenager suspected of dealing pot, to the long stretch where our lead character just stands, waiting for his subject to leave the house, in front of a wall upon which are graffitied the immortal words: JOHN and CENA. Everything about this film just clicks with me.

For fans of the Coen Brothers' sense of humor, and for adventurous fans of foreign cinema, this is an absolute must-see. Of course, this is also a film that I could easily see myself alone in loving, but I hope to introduce its loving, hilarious deconstruction of language to as many people as humanly possible and, in some small measure, make the world a better place.

#13. Adventureland (Dir. Greg Mottola)

Greg Mottola is quickly becoming one of my favorite filmmakers. After his first feature (the quite fine, tiny 90s indie The Daytrippers) failed to really garner him any additional offers, he toiled in television for a while before cashing in his Apatow connection (Mottola worked on several episodes of Undeclared) for a return to the big-screen, with one of the better Apatow-produced comedies, Superbad. And then, of course, Mottola gave the world the rare gift that is this film, a sweet, unsentimental coming-of-age comedy that is arguably the film I identify with more than any other from this year.

Everything about this film rings true, from the performances (Kristen Stewart proves she can act, but is clearly not much of a box-office draw), to the awkward humor, to its perfectly-realized atmosphere. Mottola has crafted with this film a small wonder. It manages to capture the awkwardness of these post-collegiate years with maturity and nuance, while never sacrificing any of the warmth Mottola clearly feels towards the characters. Even the most outsized personalities on display here (Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig's characters) have moments of true tenderness, and no character is left short-changed or presented in any way that rings remotely false.

I find myself in a similar situation to this film's protagonist - graduated with a pretty meaningless degree, soon to be forced into some sort of soul-crushing manual labor (if I'm lucky). Having worked in an amusement park before (however briefly), I even have my own personal "Rock Me, Amadeus" - and that is "A Charlie Brown Christmas." Good god, if I ever have to see that again, just shoot me now.

This film died a most-unceremonious death at the box office this spring, but it's destined to become a coming-of-age classic on par with American Graffiti or Dazed & Confused.


#12. Where the Wild Things Are (Dir. Spike Jonze)

I had to do the right thing. I had to see this film again after what was, hands-down, the worst theater-going experience of the year, and possibly in the top 10 worst theater-going experiences I have EVER had. Worse than when I got sick during the Last of the Dogmen trailer before Kazaam. Worse than the screening of 1408 with those chatty prepubescent bitches and their insufferable laser pointer. This theater-going disaster was frequented by such notables as "grandmother who misses a phone call, checks her messages, and calls her daughter-or-whatever back even though everything was covered in the message because I could hear it because the volume on her phone was all the way up because her aged ears don't work properly, oh, and by-the-way, your grandson's sitting next to you the entire time woman and you're not only ruining the movie for me, you're ruining the movie for him and possibly his life if this kind of behavior is indicative of how you treat him all of the time..." and the equally-notable, and possibly even more disruptive: "tourette's adult in the first row."

So, of course, I had to see this again - which I have, through means both illicit and somewhat defensible, given this film's release ended almost as soon as it began in most cities (not a crowd-pleaser). I have to say, it remains one of the wisest decisions I've made all year. Because, for everyone who will tell you that this film had them absolutely bawling from frame one, or that the film captured the true essence of what THEIR childhood was like...well, for me, it was more just...the humor. A lot of the humor does come from that "childs' perspective" of sorts - but simply the way that everything is presented once Max reaches the island [insert title of the film]. Nothing is questioned, however outrageous, and everything is gleefully bizarre and, well, hilarious. Not that these characters aren't presented with a depth of feeling and a warmth that belies a lot of the humor at first glance, which I think could be part of what's divided people so much on this particular film.

At the end of the day, I still feel the film's a touch too long and that its second half drags in a way its first absolutely doesn't, but that doesn't change the fact that this is a film many - including myself - will treasure for the rest of our lives. It is a film my generation will show their children (whether or not that's a wise decision is another issue altogether, as this film is often frightening in its particular, strangely unsettling way). But more than any of these things, it's a film that's truly something we haven't seen before. From the characters - a mix of practical effects and CGI that is absolutely seamless - to what I've been remarking upon this entire time: its overall tone. There simply are no other films like this one, and its final pair of scenes: Max leaving the island as the Wild Things howl after him into the sunset coupled with the briefest of codas when Max arrives home and watches his mother fall asleep - are as emotionally resonant and haunting as anything else I've seen in a cinema this year.

But seeing it in Nelsonville was a bad choice.


#11. Moon (Dir. Duncan Jones)

As nuanced in its execution as any other film on this list, this film also boasts one of Sam Rockwell's finest performances (although I'll always be partial to his immortal turn as Chuck Barris in Confessions of a Dangerous Mind). In a perfect, just world, this film would have garnered him some serious Oscar buzz, but, alas, despite the best efforts of the internet (Duncan Jones's Twitter account, @ManMadeMoon, has been stumping for Rockwell all year), I fear any accolades for Rockwell are once again to be sorely absent from this season's awards.

As a fan of science fiction and twisty, complex stories that are prepared to ask some serious thematic questions, I find this film absolutely stunning. In addition to this, its low-budget nature implores that I root for it. I mean, model work? How else are you going to film on the freaking moon with a $5 million dollar budget? And the film looks remarkable - you'd never know it was so cheap to make, and that's an absolute testament to the craft and passion that went into this project. And, of course, there's the simple fact that Duncan Jones here proves himself to be an immensely talented filmmaker.

Of course, to give away...anything, really, regarding the plot would do the film a great disservice, as the many pleasures of this film lie in its secrets, and the way the plot gradually unfolds. As I said in my honorable mentions, it's been a remarkable year for genre cinema - and particularly science fiction. This isn't the last sci-fi film on my list, but it is handily the most impressive in every respect. Given its resources and given its unproven talent, no one had any reason to expect as much from this film as it gave us. This was one of a handful of films I saw twice in theaters this year, and the second viewing was absolutely essential, as it confirmed that this wasn't simply a film reliant on its twists. So while I do refuse to divulge any major plot details, the film holds up even after the knowledge of what occurs in ways many twist-based films simply do not. This a testament to Sam Rockwell's performance, of course, but also to Duncan Jones' and screenwriter Nathan Parker's facility as storytellers and clear knowledge and respect for their films' science fiction forbears.

I'm prepared now to follow Duncan Jones wherever he goes, whatever he deigns to make. I was deeply saddened to learn funding had fallen through on his planned follow-up, Mute, but I feel certain that whatever he approaches next will reek of the same perfectionism and attention to detail with which he's crafted this most minor of sci-fi epics.


Nos. 10-1, to be posted sometime soon. In the next couple of days. Before the end of the week.

- Andrew Ford