#072 - I Would Like to Shank the Academy...

Regarding Grantland's piece on the Academy Awards' biggest travesties:

Here is a link to the bracket: http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/307422_415872745167241_1128977251_n.jpg

Here is a link to the author's write up on the methodology: http://www.grantland.com/story/_/id/8942448/tournament-determine-worst-academy-award-moment-modern-history

Go ahead, peruse it a bit. Unfortunately there isn't a great amount of information tagged with each entry, and some of the entry names have been oversimplified a bit. Some of the entries are all-time Oscar robberies, the ones everyone brings up every year in regards to snubs and miscalculations on the part of the Academy. For one thing, I will say it is a rather difficult task to pin down the reasoning behind some of the surprise winners. They're picked from an assortment of ballots, and the "scoring" (if you will) of the ballots is rather complicated. Here is a rather detailed article on how the nomination process works. It's not as if there's one group of people colluding together to get some movie shut out, which is the way people tend to view Ben Affleck's snub for directing Argo this year. So his victory for Best Director at the Golden Globes was a real f-you to the Academy, right? They didn't even nominate him. Well who the hell is the Academy? And is their shame even justified? Based on reading what I've read, essentially the Oscars voting boiled down to picking the films that the largest number of people thought was the best of the year (in whichever category they were voting). It's a different system than most people would think. If Ben Affleck showed up on all 300 (I'm making that number up) ballots for Best Director, surely he should be nominated, right? But what if he showed up in the third slot on EVERY ballot? And the first two slots were filled with a collection of other, talented, and in some way deserving directors. According to what I've read, it's entirely possible he wouldn't be nominated.

Imagine this process was applied to voting for the President. Of course, in our political system, it usually boils down to two main candidates, and selecting a winner is much easier. But what if there were 6 candidates? And you had to rank them? Say five of them split the "Number 1" spot equally across everyone's ballot, but in the "Number 2" spot, EVERY SINGLE PERSON had the same candidate? Well, it stands to reason that we'd all be fairly happy if that person won and became President, right? Not our first pick, but pretty damned close. Well, in the Oscars format, that person wouldn't even be nominated. And now we'd have to vote between five qualified nominees, only one of which anyone preferred to the aforementioned disqualified runner-up. The elected "winner" could only receive 22% of the vote and win by a slim margin, but everyone else is instantly deemed losers. And even further adding to the Oscars analogy, if only a couple thousand people with much different interests than you and I have were the ones who voted, it's very likely that a huge portion of the population would be in outrage over the selection. (On second thought, maybe our Presidential Election does mirror the Oscars.)

Now, put yourself in the shoes of an Academy voter. Theoretically, you can only vote for movies you have seen. Perhaps you haven't seen some of the ones that the public thinks are the best movies, maybe because you preferred to see other films instead, or the topic didn't interest you, or you're a human being and only have so much time. Additionally, perhaps you are one of these working Hollywood producers who makes up the Academy, and your close circle of friends worked on a film that is being considered for for the Oscars. Naturally, you'll want to support your friends and their work, especially if it is deserving OR underappreciated. Think about that one. Say you get your ballot and you think to yourself, "Oh, gosh, of course everyone is going to nominate The Dark Knight, think of how many people saw that film and worked on it. Even though I loved it, I'm going to nominate a small art house project and hope it can get some love." I'm not saying that's exactly how it works, but you could see where that's possible, right?

Ultimately, there's no perfect way to do it. But once you understand how the process works, and how in the end the winners could be selected by members of the Academy with varied levels of interest and association with the films in question, you get a better view of what a "snub" really is.

So let's take a look now at some of the incidents that have occurred in my lifetime that I consider to be Great Oscar Upsets. Certainly there were ones that happened well before I was watching, but it's hard for me to comment on those because I'm not sure what the public mindset was like at the time, or how different the Academy Awards were back then. (Some of these were pulled directly from the Grantland bracket.)

-- Crash Wins Best Picture (2006)

Yeah, it was kind of a joke that Crash won. At least it seems that way now. But at the time, remember Paul Haggis was a Hollywood golden boy, fresh off his deserving win for writing Million Dollar Baby. And the cast was large and diverse, perhaps creating a lot of connections in the voting class. Personally, the true winner that year should have been obvious. Brokeback Mountain was fantastic, and Ang Lee even won Best Director for the film (perhaps proving that directors are more progressive than the majority of film crew members and producers). However, it's not hard to see that the topic, and the all-too-easy tagline of "Gay Cowboy Movie" probably scared some voters away. The other contenders? Capote, Good Night and Good Luck, and Munich. Again, Capote featured a gay lead character (who was voted Best Actor--actors are of course more progressive). Good Night and Good Luck, unfortunately, just wasn't that good. And Munich was a fairly taut thriller not too different from this year's Argo, except it didn't involve a good American payoff.

-- Heath Ledger Loses Best Actor (2006)

Crash won Best Picture but was not the best picture of the year. Most people know that, and Crash's longtime reputation has suffered because of it. Instead of being simply a decent movie with a melodramatic throughline, it will forever be known as the horrible Oscar winner. The interesting "snub" from this year that I feel like should be mentioned more is Philip Seymour Hoffman's win over Heath Ledger for Best Actor. I think Hoffman was fantastic. It's not that he wasn't. He transformed himself into Truman Capote, and I know that critics and the Academy alike fall for that kind of thing (Jamie Foxx in Ray, Daniel Day-Lewis in Lincoln), but there's no rule that says playing an original character is easier than a historical figure. Especially not one with such depth and complexity as Ledger's. The true snub of the year.

-- Shakespeare in Love Wins Best Picture (1999)

There's no defense for Shakespeare in Love. It was the original Crash. Or maybe Rocky was the original Crash. But most people refer to this one as Harvey Weinstein's big win. The guy doesn't get where he got without being able to wield some sway. And maybe that's what happened here. Or maybe they were too tired of Spielberg and Tom Hanks being so weighty and serious all the time. That's my main theory, otherwise, how could anyone explain the logic behind making The Terminal? In most history books, good people have crossed out Shakespeare in Love and just filled it with Saving Private Ryan. The ten-year test holds with that one. Nobody cares about Shakespeare in Love anymore, except for the fact that it's a huge underdog winner. That's the lasting legacy of the film -- that it proves you can win over the voters with an aggressive campaign, and that maybe people don't like to just vote for a movie because everyone THINKS they're going to vote for it.

-- Samuel L. Jackson Doesn't Win for Pulp Fiction (1995)

This is a case where actors voting on the award probably significantly skews the result from what the general public would pick. Just because a character and performance is highly enjoyable and people still quote it to this day doesn't necessarily mean the acting was award-worthy. In this case, I would say Jackson was probably award-WORTHY, but I don't find this to be the huge crime that they are saying it is. Though, as a caveat, I've never seen Ed Wood, so I can't comment on Martin Landau's victory. However, Gary Sinise was damned good as Lieutenant Dan. You just can't watch a movie with him today and not think to yourself, "That's Lieutenant Dan."

-- The Dark Knight Snubbed for Best Picture Nomination (2009)

I will direct you here: Top 200 (25-1). That's probably about as much as you'd need to know about this. But, for fun, let's take a look at the nominees from this year: Slumdog Millionaire (winner), The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Frost/Nixon, The Reader, and Milk. How many of these films still move the needle? Any of them? Milk was quite good and represented a shift in public perception to gay characters (Sean Penn won Best Actor, again playing a public historical figure of whom we have video evidence). Button is by now considered a complete flop and a misstep for a personal favorite of mine (David Fincher) who returned strong with The Social Network. Slumdog was very good when I first saw it, and I still enjoy watching it, but won largely on a movement of promoting Indian culture, and repeat viewings years later makes it seem a bit garish. You can't really say exploitative though--Danny Boyle, to his credit, used a significant number of local actors and production assistants to capture his vision. I have no problems with its nomination. But at the time I didn't think it measured to The Dark Knight, and it still doesn't to this day. I'm quite certain that the movie was instantly dismissed due to its association with Batman. However, take away the cape. There was minimal CGI in this film. There was no cartoonishness. There were no aliens, no super powers. What is so "comic book" about it? If you take away the Batman logo, this movie is one of the great detective/crime thrillers of our generation. Look who is involved: Christopher Nolan, Christian Bale, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Heath Ledger, Gary Oldman. These are pro's pros, not people interested in popcorn sales. Some credit the film with opening the Academy's limit on Best Picture nominations from 5 to 10, but in reality, that's a money-making move and not one intended to credit more filmmakers. As has been mentioned elsewhere, having more Best Picture Nominees just gives more studios the ability to plaster "BEST PICTURE (Nominee)" across the tops of their DVD cases and television advertisements. Still, as is the case with many of the other "snubs" on this list, The Dark Knight is winning the battle of longevity, both as a popular movie that is making tons of money and as a critical success that even viewers outside of the comic fanboy clique have grown to appreciate.

-- The Wrestler Snubs (2009)

Continuing the thought from above, if we could go back and re-do the nominations, I'd wager that The Reader, Frost/Nixon, and Button would be out, replaced with some combination of The Dark Knight, Doubt, Wall-E, and another film that I think was snubbed from even the mentions of the snubs: The Wrestler. The Wrestler is a great movie, one that didn't necessarily have any hype machine behind it, other than Mickey Rourke's terrific performance and the discussion over Bruce Springsteen's closing credits song. It's a shame, to me, that Rourke didn't end up with the Oscar. He did win the Golden Globe, and given the opportunity, effusively thanked his friend and mentor Sean Penn, whom he was selected over. While Penn deserves credit for stretching his comfort zone and perhaps Rourke was too encapsulated in his own, but upon watching both films, I was struck by the emotion that Penn was fantastic acting AS Harvey Milk, and Mickey Rourke simply WAS "The Ram". Again, this is a case of Penn not doing anything substandard or being a poor selection, just my feeling that Mickey Rourke OWNED his film and was deserving of the award.

-- City of God Not Nominated for Best Foreign Film (2003)

Once again, I'll direct your attention here: Top 200 (25-1). I haven't thought of this so much as a snub, largely because the Best Foreign Film category is usually an inaccurate representation of what films were true international masterpieces. I'm not even totally sure how they are selected / promoted, and if this wasn't already a beast of an entry, I might look into it. But this is just silly. I wager there are not many people who have seen City of God and come out of it thinking anything less than, "Wow." It represents everything that I think filmmaking should strive toward, and yet it comes from the most humble and scraped together beginnings. Hardly any of the actors are professionals, and the scenery, props, clothing, and characters were culled from the real lives of the people involved in the production. The film highlights something that I've felt is true about making realistic movies for a while -- one of the key features of seeing a movie is wanting to get lost in the story, wanting to believe what you're seeing is real, or could be real. But it is exceedingly difficult to see a Will Smith movie and not think, "That's Will Smith." Or Julia Roberts. Or George Clooney. You recognize their faces over and over again, regardless of how well they perform, and it's difficult to not understand you're watching a production. For many viewers, City of God is something completely different. I have noticed Alice Braga's face in the years since, as she has built herself a tidy career in American films. But I will admit, despite this being one of my all time favorite films, I had to look up the name of the actor who played Rocket just now (Alexandre Rodrigues). For the most part, you look at these faces and can only think of the characters they portrayed. I understand films in America is a business, and to sell tickets you need big names. But it's surprising that you don't see more experimental filmmakers casting unknowns to add a level of realism to their stories.

Getting back to the Oscars, I will say I have never heard of the 2003 Best Foreign Language Film, Nowhere In Africa. I do see that the fantastic Jet Li film Hero was nominated, but lost, despite being one of the most jaw-droppingly beautiful films I have seen in my life, as well as a great story. Shows that there are great upsets even for foreign films.

#060 - The Tree of Life (2011)

Director: Terrence Malick

Writer: Terrence Malick

Runtime: 138 mins.

What can be said about The Tree of Life that wasn't already said in the two years prior to its release?

I'm kidding, but... not really. It's everything you heard it was going to be. It's a sprawling drama that takes on the biggest, yet most simple, themes; it confuses you greatly; it will evoke probably every emotion you have; and yes, there are dinosaurs.

Probably the most frustrating thing about this film (and this is the type of movie that will force people to refer to it as a 'film') is that all the pomp and all the hype completely overshadowed what was a terrifically written and directed story. It's one powerful, genuinely moving narrative film set alongside a separate powerful, genuinely moving abstract film, yet despite what the creators would love for you to believe, the whole is not greater than the sum of its parts.

Let's start with what we can see plainly: Brad Pitt is the Father, a straight laced American head of household who works hard and has grown a very rough exterior. Jessica Chastain is the Mother, his perfect foil, a loving, devoted wife and mother who wants nothing more than to see all the boys in her life succeed. Their sons are Jack (the protagonist of the film), RL (the blond who is really a spitting image of Brad Pitt, perhaps even more of a young Ricky Schroder), and Steve (the one who almost never says or does anything). Jack is tormented by his father's iron fist, his desire to be free, and his lack of faith in his mother's God. RL on the other hand, embodies innocence. He has a gentle spirit and shares a musical bond with his father, which presumably frustrates Jack further.

Sadly, we know from the opening minutes that RL dies at a young age, sending Father, Mother, and Jack all spiraling into deep depression. A well-meaning but ill-spoken neighbor offers, "You still have the other two," in a botched attempt to comfort the Mother. There is a lot of crying and a lot of pleading with God, as the story begins its path down the Book of Job.

Then we meet Sean Penn, who is 50-year old Jack, who, in just ten seconds, we can tell is in a loveless marriage with a beautiful, devoted wife, and who is clearly still distraught over the death of his brother. (Presumably, the events of modern-day Jack occur on the anniversary of his death.) And yes, this is about all that Sean Penn brings to this movie. I'm not even totally sure why he's there.

Then we meet the cosmos, and some single-celled organisms, and some dinosaurs. I'm not totally sure what perspective we're seeing these from, perhaps from Jack, as he is the only character who would hold the evolutionary viewpoint. There is truly beautiful imagery, done by fusing landscape shots with small bits of CGI and a lot of naturally created effects (i.e. blown up shots of microscopic chemical reactions). In this way I felt it was very similar to Darren Aronofsky's The Fountain, which used the same techniques and actually featured a Tree of Life--and was similarly delayed for years during production.

The problem I found with this whole interlude is that it was trying so hard to be evocative, to tell us something greater about the world and about God and about humanity. But it didn't measure up to the rest of the film. Jack's story (his story as a child) is fantastic; it was--and deserved to be--the focal point of the film. But it was complicated by these other things. Flashbacks, flash forwards, dream sequences, imagined afterlife scenes on a beach. I think Malick wants you to believe that this is something revolutionary, something that's never been done before. I'm not claiming to be an expert on this movie, but I've seen plenty of other movies in my life, and this was not unlike anything else. At some point you can say to yourself, "Well, but it's not WRONG if the point they're trying to make is overt." And you'd be right. It isn't necessarily wrong, but what I felt is that there was this really great developing story with Jack as a child, as he says, "wrestling with his father inside his head," and I wanted more anecdotes, I wanted more 'show me, not tell me.'

I enjoyed it. I think it was effective, and beautiful. And kudos to Hunter McCracken, who played young Jack, as he did a marvelous job. And Brad Pitt was good, as well, which is saying something because I don't have the highest opinion of him as an actor. But I think it was his best role since Tyler Durden and Mickey the Gypsy. My complaint would be that it overshadowed itself. Too much abstract, not enough tangible. The interplay between brother-brother and father-son is compelling enough to not bring religion and creation theories into things. But Malick clearly had a specific story he wanted to tell, so tell it he did. And let's hope it brings him some joy, so that he does not lead the same frozen existence as older Jack.

#059 - Oscars 2011

So, though in the past I've done nothing but horribly in Oscar predictions, I figured I'd give it another run down this year. Of course, things that you think ARE going to win aren't necessarily the ones you'd LIKE to win.

So, here we go:

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Original Screenplay

Nominees: Another Year; The Fighter; Inception; The Kids are All Right; The King's Speech

I'd prefer: Inception. Simply put, it was my favorite movie, and I think the story it's based on is fantastic. It's incredibly complex, but it works. I know lots of people couldn't get a grip on the dream switching and the layers, but I got it without issue. Here's a movie that juggles four and five layers of action with characters playing themselves and other characters and more than anything the tension of the story leaps out at you. Unfortunately, it's handicapped by being labeled "the dream movie" just as The Dark Knight was labeled "the Batman movie". It's much more than "the dream movie". The dreams are the premise, the real story is about the deepest human fears and emotions.

I think: The Kids are All Right. I liked this movie a lot. I thought it was really clever and funny. And after reading some lofty issues about the historical accuracy of The King's Speech (which I feel will win it's fair share of awards), I think the Academy will end up defaulting to the one movie that nobody can really lodge a complaint with.

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Adapted Screenplay

Nominees: 127 Hours; The Social Network; Toy Story 3; True Grit; Winter's Bone

I'd prefer: The Social Network. Yes, Sorkin was very Sorkin with his dialogue. But it was an endless barrage, there was talking, there was talking on top of talking, and this movie owed more to its script than any other movie this year.

I think: The Social Network. This one almost seems TOO easy.

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Animated Feature

Nominees: How to Train Your Dragon; The Illusionist; Toy Story 3

I'd prefer: Toy Story 3. Come on.

I think: Toy Story 3. I don't know why I even bothered writing this out.

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Supporting Actress

Nominees: Amy Adams; Helena Bonham Carter; Melissa Leo; Hailee Steinfeld; Jacki Weaver

I'd prefer: Hailee Steinfeld. She gets the benefit of being young in the Oscars. She really was the LEAD actress in her film, she was in almost every scene. But as they usually do, they peg younger actors into the "Supporting" category to both celebrate them and give them a chance at winning. She was terrific. It's almost hard to believe she's NOT the hard-nosed, razor sharp lady she portrayed in the movie--which is again the benefit of being young and unknown. You don't already have her pegged as "Oh that's Amy Adams--I know her."

I think: Melissa Leo. She's very deserving. Adams I think got more pub initially, but slowly Leo has gotten the recognition she warranted with her performance. She just disappeared into the character, it was both fantastic and ridiculous, the early 90s Boston outfits and accents. She needs to thank her costume director and makeup artist if she wins.

--

Supporting Actor

Nominees: Christian Bale; John Hawkes; Jeremy Renner; Mark Ruffalo; Geoffrey Rush

I'd prefer: Christian Bale. I think big name actors are all fighting with themselves to be declared the "most dedicated" in the field, but how could you argue with Bale. I mean look at him in this movie. His mannerisms are insanely idiosyncratic. And when you see the post-feature snippet with the real life characters, you can tell he studied Dicky Ecklund's every move until he got it perfect. I'm quite sure Geoffrey Rush was fantastic in The King's Speech (I have it queued up to watch soon), but I doubt anyone could be as superb as Bale.

I think: Toss up. This is almost pegged to the Lead Actor winner. I think if Firth wins lead, there's a better chance for Bale. If he doesn't, I feel like they have to give it to Rush, since ONE of the two main actors in that movie has to win. But my gut is telling me Bale. And he deserves it.

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Lead Actress

Nominees: Annette Bening; Nicole Kidman; Jennifer Lawrence; Natalie Portman; Michelle Williams

I'd prefer: Hard to say. Haven't seen Rabbit Hole or Winter's Bone, and while I feel like Jennifer Lawrence is a good story and kind of an underdog here, I think I'd have to say Portman. Unlike most people, I wasn't absolutely blown away by her role in Black Swan, but it was an INTENSE movie and she brought it to almost every scene. And you can forgive her for overacting because of the nature of ballet competition--she nearly killed herself just to get to the top, it takes a lot out of you.

I think: Portman. Good for her. I think Michelle Williams did a really fantastic job, but Ryan Gosling really carried that movie for me. Portman was the backbone of Black Swan.

--

Lead Actor

Nominees: Javier Bardem; Jeff Bridges; Jesse Eisenberg; Colin Firth; James Franco

I'd prefer: Holy crap. What a selection. It's kind of sad that Jesse Eisenberg, as key as he was, has basically 0% chance of winning. And I just saw Biutiful and Javier Bardem was GREAT, yet I think he has absolutely 0% chance of winning as well. I loved Franco, and how could you argue against someone who occupied the screen the whole film, yet still turned in a truly fantastic movie. I know from all the pub that Colin Firth was great, but I haven't seen it quite yet. I think the one actor I want to win this award MOST is actually not even nominated--Ryan Gosling from Blue Valentine. I think he was dynamic and disappeared more into his character than some of the other actors, whose characters had quirks they could always default to. Gosling was just a complete person, with strengths and faults and ups and downs. It's really a shame he's not even nominated. Gosling, Franco, Bardem, in that order.

I think: Firth. Would be weird to see Franco win since he's hosting, and the unending parade of "best actor" props for Firth suggests it's going to be his year.

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Director

Nominees: Darren Aronofsky; David O. Russell; Tom Hooper; David Fincher; Joel and Ethan Coen

I'd prefer: Christopher Nolan, of course. Oh wait, he's not even nominated. It just makes me feel awful to see that. He got overlooked for The Prestige, for The Dark Knight--both of which were absolutely mind-blowing movies for me--and now he doesn't even get a NOMINATION for Inception. It's his baby. He's been working on it for 15 years, and even admitted that one of the reasons he took the job of Batman was to gain enough experience on a mega-concept movie to get Inception right. And get it right he did. I don't think any director had as much influence over his final product than Nolan. He's the best in the business. And yes, that includes the Hall of Fame worthy Coen Brothers.

I think: Aronofsky. Good for him, too. I don't think this was his strongest film, really. In fact, Requiem for a Dream, The Fountain, and The Wrestler were all better, in my opinion. But sometimes you put in your time making terrific movies and eventually the Oscars recognize you for something even if it's not your best work (see Joel and Ethan Coen, Denzel Washington).

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Picture

Nominees: Black Swan; The Fighter; Inception; The Kids are All Right; The King's Speech; 127 Hours; The Social Network; Toy Story 3; True Grit; Winter's Bone

I'd prefer: Inception. End of story. The best movie that I saw this year. However, there's as much of a chance that anyone actually reads this post as there is of Inception winning.

I think: The Social Network. Though the Academy does like British movies, The Social Network has the buzz and the "now" factor to get the job done this year. Unfortunately I think that's part of the reason why it's not going to last with people. I just feel like, more and more often, we look back a few years later and say, "Mmm, they just missed it. The right movie was there, but they picked the movie that had more buzz." Don't get me wrong. The Social Network was really good. But I just didn't think it was THAT good.

Good luck to all the nominees.

#058 - Exit Through the Gift Shop (2010)

Director: Banksy (ostensibly)

Writer: Nobody (apparently)

Runtime: 87 min

One of the most awe-inspiring traits an artist can have is self-awareness. Too often you see artists and celebrities engrossed in themselves and consumed by their universe-altering lives that they lose the perspective that they used to have, you know, before they were Masters of the Galaxy. But I'm starting to think that, maybe, with the deluge of critique available on the internet, and the instantly available public reaction thanks to the social networking phenomenon--perhaps artistic self-awareness is reaching the tipping point. Instead of having the rare moment when a big time star can have a laugh at himself, the marketplace is somewhat flooded with either genuine or microwave-ready versions of levity where we're all supposed to go, "See! He has a sense of humor about himself!" The most obvious example of this is Tom Cruise's Les Grossman cameo from Tropic Thunder (and subsequently the MTV Movie Awards), or alternatively, Joaquin Phoenix's mockumentary I'm Still Here when we're supposed to believe that he's just kidding about being a wacko.

The problem with all of this--if there is a problem--is that you can't separate what has been cooked up by a publicist and what is coming from an artist's own true self-awareness. I mean, I tend to think that Cruise's embrace of the Grossman thing is tightly tied to the public's positive reaction; but how aware is he that part of the reason that people think it's funny is because he's Tom Cruise, someone who is seemingly going off the deep end and is always wearing a made-for-tv facade. Jack Black in that role would not have raised eyebrows, because, well, that's Jack Black and that's what he does.

Exit Through the Gift Shop ends up hitting on this very same concept, albeit in a way that I'm not 100% sure of. Either Thierry Guetta, the main character of the film and eventual street art phenomenon Mr. Brainwash, is a real person who has all the traits others claim him to have throughout the film, or he's a real person who was molded and prodded to be the "artist" he becomes by the puppetmaster Banksy. Either way, the movie starts out with what I find to be a rather fascinating authentic documentary about street artists (ones that already exist and are successful) that ends up being hijacked in the end by this ballooning figure of Mr. Brainwash who clouds the art world skies and borders on over-saturating the market. Mr. Brainwash is ridiculous, and unabashedly so, seemingly without any respect of the fact that his success is not due to his own skill, but rather to the overwhelming hype machine created in part by Banksy. At one point in the movie, Banksy claims to have not foreseen the effect that his promotion of MBW would have, but I can only imagine that his very HOPE was to crash through the ceiling of notoriety.

In fact, I partially believe that Banksy shaped Guetta into MBW so he could gauge the impact an artist with relatively no skill could have as long as he followed an established plan of promotion--first covertly, then overtly. According to the film, that impact was monumental. He wasn't overnight going to become the hallowed critical success that Banksy himself was, but MBW ended up being a bit of a smash hit. His art show opening was visited by thousands of people and he ended up selling over a million dollars worth of art. Not quite Banksy numbers, but very impressive. Only, in the end, I have to believe that this sort of hurt Banksy.

Elitism goes hand in hand with art. I think it's one of the main reasons why people enjoy dissecting artists and their work--to vault themselves into some level of elitism. It's why students on college networks share their music libraries. "Oh yeah, John's library is good--but have you seen Derek's?!" It's why people like to discuss their favorite movies and what they thought of the latest big-budget trash. If your favorite movie is Forrest Gump or Pirates of the Caribbean, well then good for you. Now, if your favorite movie is The 400 Blows or Yojimbo, well then, now we're talking! Picking out chic from shit is an essential tool for any would-be snob. But gallery art is probably the MOST difficult medium to work with when doing your elitist sorting. There are no off-key singers, there are no one-liners that fall flat on their face. Stuff that looks kind of weird to you can suddenly be amazing as long as you overhear the right person giving it praise. It's a tough field to follow, especially modern art, where you can't just get by with a collection of names. I personally feel that you have to be honest with yourself and just stick with whatever you like. I know I've been to galleries in the past and have heard people gushing over certain pieces that I wasn't too fond of, and there's an urge to over-analyze it, to convince yourself that you're wrong and someone else is right--but I really do think that the things you like are going to come right out and sock you in the face, so don't worry about looking too hard.

However, I have to admit that by the end of Exit, I started to resent MBW and his success. I practiced the elitism just the way it always happens. And I think that's kind of the reaction they're hoping you have. It feels a little bit like the self-aware (Banksy) having fun with the un-aware (Guetta): "Hey, this movie is so successful, and look at you, you're a big hit!" whilst snickering behind the scenes at his lack of skill and certain-to-be fleeting fame. He even did a spectacular job of selecting headphone-wearing teenagers to give MBW props in the interview portions, in contrast to the articulate adults who posited that MBW's work was heavy-handed and cliche, ripping off those who came before him. But, someone paid money for his pieces. Lots of someones. And lots of money. So I'm curious about how that made Banksy feel, along with Shepard Fairley, and Space Invader. Were they proud of themselves for "building" this budding star? For manipulating the social consciousness enough to make him appear legit? Or did they feel a little bit kicked in the stomach? Their work, which they had hoped would capture the attention of the global community, was being lumped beside the work of a guy with less artistic talent, but more grandiose intentions. After all, I think at the core, what artists want is for their work to be appreciated. Otherwise they would just keep all their paintings inside a locked closet and never show them to anyone. Street artists are performers. When you walk the streets, you're blasted with material left and right, some of which might LOOK like art, some of which might not. Only the best stands out. And I think that's what they want, is to stand out. Is making MBW relevant their way of laughing at the public? Or is it their way of truly accepting the reality that art doesn't have a set of requirements, that you can be good one minute and not the next (or vice versa), and that many of the people in the world simply like art that they're told they should like? I know I'm going to offend a lot of people, but I had a similar reaction to MBW as I did to the novel The Kite Runner. It felt like it was all hype. When I read The Kite Runner, I couldn't help but think, "Here's a guy, who's not really a writer, who badly wants to tell this melodramatic story. And it's got a perfect summer blockbuster story, and it happens to be about a place and culture that is very mainstream." So it's built up as this EVENT, this book that everyone is reading, and you need to read it because your neighbor has read it, because it talks about all this stuff that you don't know about, and can you believe the Middle East is like this? And now, here's MBW, taking this underground world of street art, where you know almost nothing about the players, and pumping it mainstream, plastering it on television and periodicals. And people readily absorb it, because the hype machine is telling them to.

If I were Banksy, I would be disappointed. Maybe he finds enjoyment that his little pet project has become popular enough to open a second show in New York (meaning he's already succeeded in LA and NYC). But I think I would have hoped that he would pop up for a minute, have everyone go, "Hey, look what's happening here!", and then dissolve into nothing. Because artists do want their work to be appreciated--which Banksy's no doubt is--but appreciated fairly. If something is simply better than what they've done, they want to address it and accept it. And, in the same breath, they don't want to be categorized alongside inferior artists. That is why many actors and writers so easily reference older artists and commend their work, yet are hesitant to compare themselves to contemporaries. Being a working artist means you're still in the race, you can't look to your left and say, "Well I just can't beat that person." The legends have already finished the race, we already know the winners and losers--rather, we know the winners, the losers we generally forget. It feels a little bit like Banksy was saying, "I'm sick of being called a vandal with a spray can--so I'm going to show you the difference between what I do and what a guy with a spray can does." That distinction is what drives you to go from hobbyist to artist. That distinction changes your work from whitewash predecessor to million-dollar auction item.

And this is where you really have to question what Banksy is in it for? Is he really just making art for art's sake? Is he playing around with the public, playing around with the critics? Or somewhere inside, does he WANT to have the fans and recognition that he has, and would he be worse off without them? I've seen other people go down the route of "I really don't care what anyone has to say", and it's rather off-putting. When the Coen Brothers (whom I love as filmmakers) won the Academy Award for Best Picture for No Country For Old Men, they acted as if they couldn't be bothered. Like they hadn't just achieved something. Like winning the award now was belittling to them since they had already made so many fantastic films. I think they're brilliant, but I wasn't a fan of this reaction at all. Everyone knows the Academy makes ridiculous selections and perhaps the Coen Brothers should have won earlier awards, but Oscars or no Oscars, their movie was beloved by many, many people, myself included, and I kind of just wanted them to acknowledge the fact that they had REALLY made an impression on lots of people. Poking fun at critics or audiences is one thing--artists should always do that, lest the audiences THEMSELVES begin to grow big heads--but I think having the distinction of worldwide appreciation is one of the clearest signs that, "Dude, you've done it." Banksy wasn't nearly this supercilious, but he did toe the line between thick skinned and aloof. For what it's worth, Guetta/MBW cleared WANTED to be loved. He wanted to be a brand, instead of pretending like he didn't care and hoping it would happen anyway.

It was truly a fascinating movie, and brought to mind way, way more concepts than were presented plainly. I'm probably overthinking it, engaged in an inner battle between the part of me that accepts that I'm a fan, and the part of me that desires to be an artist. But I think the movie turned at the end; when MBW became an icon, Exit Through the Gift Shop went from being an interesting movie about the world of street artists, introducing you to wonderful characters you never would have known about, to being a commentary on artists and social manipulation. If you've read this far, know that I suggest that you see it, and that I hope you will find it enjoyable. This long, long writeup of mine is less about the movie itself and more the outlet I needed to discuss some concepts that I had been thinking about.

#052 - Inception (2010)

Director: Christopher Nolan

Writer: Christopher Nolan & Jonathan Nolan

Runtime: 148 min

There's kind of a sadness in me. No, I was not disappointed with Inception. No, it's not a bad movie. And luckily this time around none of the bright young stars of the movie is tragically gone. It's a little bit different.

Five years ago, I would have said Christopher Nolan was one of my 20 favorite directors. At that point, I had seen Memento and Batman Begins and was pleased with both of them. But then came The Prestige. And then came The Dark Knight. And now Inception. What does this make me think now?

If I heard the title of a movie that's being made and nothing more than that, the one director that would make me most excited to hear pinned to the title is Nolan. Nobody else can eclipse him, at least not right now. And that's not to say I don't get beyond pumped for new movies by Wes Anderson or Darren Aronofsky or David Fincher or Michel Gondry or Paul Thomas Anderson or the Coen Brothers. They're just kind of a group of directors I like to put in section 1B.

1A is Nolan. And it's not because he makes movies with such a well-honed singular style that disregards all the conventions of modern cinema and blazes a path of his own, like the Coen Brothers. And it's not because he's an artist with the camera, like Gondry. And honestly it's not just because he's a wildly intelligent guy and his acumen bursts through all seams of his work and interviews. Really, it's because he's such a brilliant guy who wants to make people think and sort through all the details of his movies with a fine-tooth comb, yet he DOESN'T shun the concepts of the theater that bring people through the doors by the thousands. Michael Bay might be trite and overindulgent, but people still go to see his movies. Millions. Why? Because he embraces the screen. He fills the screen with images and fills the auditorium with sounds that get your heart racing, giving you the two-hour thrill ride you pay $7, $8, $10, $15, $20 for. And Nolan embraces this too. He's totally gung-ho about IMAX because he's positively giddy about the amount of detail he can fit into one frame. The little hairs on your neck? Got 'em. Paint chips on the wall? Got 'em. Drops of water beading on a glass? Got those, too. The "movie" experience is just as salient as the "film" experience, at least for me.

So why does this make me sad?

Here's why: Nolan has explicity stated in several interviews that Inception is his labor of love. The story that he's been working on since he was a teenager when he first got into writing, the idea that he's been hammering out for at least 9 years since he first pitched his script to the studio. In fact, he's said that he took the job directing the Batman movies so that he could learn how to operate on a large-scale movie with an enormous set and all the trappings of a big-budget movie. Those movies were so fantastic yet they were just PRACTICE for him? Insane. Essentially everything he's been doing for the last 15 years has been working towards making Inception. And Inception is a brilliant movie. Brilliant. Ridiculous. The opening is marvelous. And while it's not perfect for every second of its run, the last 25 minutes of the movie are better maybe than any other 25 minutes stretch I've ever seen. That's not a joke. I'm honestly a little bit confused at how people can get lost in this movie. Yes I know it's a complex concept with multiple worlds and dreams-within-dreams, but it's often said in writing that if you (as the author) know the world you're describing, your readers will too, without fail. And I'm quite certain that Nolan knows his world. Backwards and forwards. And the fact that he doesn't present the "rules" of the world in a step-by-step manual is his way of thanking the audience for paying attention. You don't need a list of rules to be able to understand what's going on, he reveals them alongside the story so that everything flows together. The first time I saw this movie, I was in the midst of a fit of vomit and yet I found the story understandable. (Seriously, I threw up 10 minutes in and was fading from some bad dehydration. So I saw it again.)

It's at a point like this, after gushing about the movie, that I kind of want to say it's the best I've ever seen. But you know what? It probably isn't. Movies are inherently limited. Limited by the story itself, limited by their length, limited by the screen they're displayed on. Inception, at least to me, completely maxed out all of its limits. The story is fantastic--but it's not the best story ever written. It'll end up being one of my favorite movies ever, sure. But ONE OF. Not the single best. And that's okay. To appreciate and be utterly impressed by it is enough for me, I don't need to immediately place it on a pedestal just two weeks in. It could grow on me, or it could fade. Either way, it won't change the fact that it floored me--twice in a week.

When I left the theater, other than the inevitable "did the top fall or did it keep spinning" questions (by the way, SICK ending. Very slick. Nolan has mastered the art of the last shot.), the one major thought that was swirling in my head was, "Is this it? Is this the apex?" Nolan is in my opinion the best we have right now, and from everything I've read, this was the best he has. I'm quite certain he'll put out more brilliant movies, but will he ever be able to top this? I know what it's like to have ideas, to have ideas for stories that you want to build, you have THE ONE that's always at the top, always the ideal scenario, you're always tweaking, and then below that you have THE OTHERS. They're good, sure, and you love them, but they're not the one. And from what I've been hearing, this is the one for Nolan. Will he become satisfied? Will he move to be more experimental? It kind of makes me worry. It kind of makes me sad.

It's a bizarre feeling to leave a movie that thrilled you from start to finish and feel sad.

In a way, I kind of hope to feel it again.

I know this wasn't a true review of the film. But I wanted to take the opportunity to talk about something that was on my mind. And no review of the film will do it any justice. So just know that I suggest you go see it. And if you don't like it, that's okay. But it will be more than worth it for those of you who do.

#044 - Iron Man 2 (2010)

Director: Jon Favreau
Writer: Justin Theroux
Runtime: 124 min.

Iron Man, the first, was by all accounts a blast, heavy on the repartee and CGI demolition, and established Robert Downey Jr. as the most likeable and fun super-/anti-hero and screen presence to date. I didn't think it was perfect and I didn't really understand people claiming it was the best comic book movie ever, but it was definitely a fun ride and had all the necessary elements.

Iron Man 2 picks up where that one left off to a great extent. Downey is once again a riot on screen, he talks so fast and has such a captivating persona--it's kind of hard to envision the divide between Downey, Stark, and Stark's ultra-ego. It all just blends. The movie is nothing without him, and his awareness of his importance is evident, as it bleeds over into the character--a character who sits in front of the United States government and tells it to bugger off, essentially, "You can't touch me because you need me too bad." It's believable, it follows accordingly from the actions of the first film, and it's one of the few not-excruciatingly-obvious plot devices for the rest of the film. Tony's narcissism is going to come back and bite him in the ass. It's clear, but it's his character.

The setup, I think, is fantastic. Mickey Rourke wastes no time making his presence felt as Ivan Vanko, the supposed villain of the story. In fact, I think his grand entrance is probably the best scene of the movie, even though it's ridiculous on so many levels (the rest of the drivers would continue to race even though cars are being blown up left and right? Isn't that why you have crew chiefs?). Rourke is pretty good. I was concerned his Russian accent was going to be garbage from the trailer, but it actually wasn't too bad--maybe because they limited him to only a handful of lines. But he was quite badass and a freaking genius to boot--which is actually one of the things I thought was problematic about the movie. Sure, Justin Hammer (Sam Rockwell) is obviously the main villain. He wants to take down Stark and make him look like a little girl (in a little dress, little saddleshoes, little pigtails) at any cost, even though it seems like his villainy is forced. But that's besides the point. He's hateable. It makes sense. Vanko, though, isn't really hateable at all. His gripe with Stark is kind of legit (Stark's father banished Vanko's father to Russia after the two had been partners) and they only really address it with one line of dialogue, but in a rush to do everything else they're trying to do, don't really come back to it. So all we see is Vanko as a one-man wrecking crew, totally dismantling Hammer's entire software mainframe and fleet of drone soldiers. And he makes himself a kickin' Iron Man replica, complete with wickedly awesome electric tentacles (alright, I'm not sure how to describe it, but you know what I'm talking about). He's not even really that evil. He's just brilliant. He made all of his stuff without the resources of Stark, all on his own in this tiny shack in a frozen Russian town, and yet was able to compete. That gets more thumbs up than thumbs down in my book.

Most of that is forgivable, though. I think Favreau (and maybe more important, the Marvel suits behind the financing) had a bigger agenda--trying to cram all this Avengers stuff into the plot, trying to fit in a few too many plot points (Rhodes fighting Tony and stealing the War Machine suit is maybe the weakest moment in the movie, and ideally would have been skipped--but they needed to facilitate the War Machine storyline somehow) and the end result was a long movie with a million events happening inside of it. So you can't blame them for everything. The fight scenes were still cool, Iron Man zipped across the screen with as much flair as ever (even though I think they upped the CGI ante a little too much, everything was like the computers from Minority Report and Tony carries Iron Man around inside a briefcase), and most importantly, the characters were well done and had terrific interactions. That, I think, is the hallmark of the Iron Man movies--viciously quick banter between Stark and others, especially Pepper, that makes the movie a lot more fun and natural than other comic book films with hackneyed one-liners. That feature remains intact. And I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Scarlett Johansson as Natalie/Natasha/Black Widow, who plays the part of sexy assistant quite dashingly, and then blows everyone's doors off when she whips into high gear (and a leather catsuit). Seriously, good for her. I think she'll just pull out a reel of this movie the next time some online gossip columnist rags on her for being thick in the thighs. All good, all the time.

The part I found to be not-so-all-good? Blah. The end. I think some other people out there have commented on the quick and painless nature of the final fight sequence, but it really was kind of a letdown for me. As devastating as Vanko was in the first encounter--quite nearly killing Stark--he came back with an even more powerful suit at the end, but was dismissed quite effortlessly. And the scene only took about 40 seconds. This was disappointing, and was not too different than how I felt about the ending of the first movie. The final victories just seem to come too easily for Iron Man. And when you've sifted through all the wheelings and dealings of the first 115 minutes, what would have really driven the stake home would have been a killer final battle--only the movie ended up going out with a whimper. And that's a shame, because based on the first matchup, it could have been a doozy.

#040 - Top 200 Movies of the Decade (25-1)

#200-176

#175-151

#150-126

#125-101

#100-76

#75-51

#50-26

So, normally, I'd give a little write up here about something that was on my mind or something that I wanted to share. This time, though, I'm going to pass. Partially because I have nothing interesting to talk about (insert "How is that any different from before?" joke here) and partially because I know that with the movies coming up on my list, I'm probably going to end up writing more than I have previously.

It's only taken four months to finally finish this thing, so, enjoy.

25. Big Fish (Tim Burton, 2003) - A movie that absolutely floored me when I first saw it. In fact, I saw it a few times in theaters, because it just packed such a nice little pop of clever storytelling and poignancy. As fun and colorful as the "old yarns" side of the story is, I think the real horse carrying the movie was the scenes with Albert Finney as older Edward and Billy Crudup as William. Finney is so damned comfortable on screen, I almost always buy whatever act he's putting on, whether it be in this movie or Erin Brockovich or even Bourne Ultimatum. And as much screen time as he occupies, William is the movie's emotional compass. We identify with him, not his father, and Crudup does a fantastic job at bridging the gap between us as the viewers and the fantasy on screen. Ewan McGregor is decent, his overacting can be attributed to the role and the film itself, and he doesn't take anything away from it. And of course the film features the typical visual candy store that Burton brings to the screen, which I think adds a lot to the contrast. Just a terrific movie, enjoyed by all ages--and yes, the ending always brings a tear to the eye.

24. Inside Man (Spike Lee, 2006) - I have to confess, this ranking might be a little byproduct of ultra-hype syndrome, as, for months preceding its release, my buddy Dan and I built up and built up and built up our anticipation so much so that for it to be anything less than the greatest movie of all time would have been a failure. Well, it wasn't the greatest movie of all time, but you know what? As time goes on, I can see that it's a damned good movie. It might not have the payoff you'd like for it to have at the end, as it sort of leaves you without that definitive gavel-slamming scene that most crime thrillers have. But don't let that take away from everything else that's going on. It's got a snappy little plot (I don't want to insinuate that it has anything to do with the fact that Lee didn't write it himself... but it might...) and some solid performances from the names--which are big names: Denzel, Clive Owen, Jodie Foster, Christopher Plummer, and Ejiofor (again!). Typically, crime movies build up a villain over the first half of the movie so much, he's so devious, so cunning, so unstoppable, that when the resolution happens and the hero has taken him down, it's a little unbelievable. That doesn't happen here. The hero kind of wins, but not really, and in no way is he ever outdone by the villain--who isn't even the real villain of it all. It's twisted, and if you haven't seen it, it's hard to elucidate my point without giving away too many details--but just know this: Inside Man is sweet. And it features the kickin' opening credits song "Chaiyya Chaiyya."

23. 28 Days Later (Danny Boyle, 2003) - A horror movie?? Well, sort of. I'm not a fan of horror, and to that, I don't really consider 28 Days Later to be a horror movie, despite the presence of zombies and gore and tense music. If I had to classify it, it'd go down as more of a "thriller" (like Se7en) which is a genre of movie that I really love. It's almost hard to pinpoint what exactly I love about 28 Days Later, it just sort of ends up being one of those movies that you watch and think to yourself, "That. Was. Awesome." I do find it interesting that Danny Boyle, after the long career that he's had, has made a name for himself publicly with such a wide variety of films. Take a look: Trainspotting (Scottish comedy/drugs), Millions (British family movie), 28 Days Later (British zombie thriller), Sunshine (sci fi thriller), Slumdog Millionaire (Indian adventure love story). The guy's a chameleon, and I admire that about him. In fact, I wrote a 30 page paper about him while I was in college, in which my thesis was that he works best when free from the restrictions of the big budget studio scene, so that he can have more artistic control over the project (and lower expectations, but shh...). Maybe he didn't do anything new with 28 Days Later, after all zombie movies have been popular for about 60 years, but what he did do was impressive--he removed himself from the stigma of making a zombie movie and the comparisons that naturally come along with it, and told the story he wanted to tell. And thankfully for us, the guy's a damned good filmmaker.

22. The Royal Tenenbaums (Wes Anderson, 2001) - For some reason, comedies typically tend to sag down on the rankings a little bit, through no fault of their own, I just think dramas end up being a little more emotionally powerful, which goes a long way towards making a film memorable. But The Royal Tenenbaums is a movie that I will always love. It's probably the height of Wes Anderson's screenwriting prowess, a complex story with multiple vivid characters, terrific pacing, and some of his funniest scenes ever. I think it marked a turn in his thematic initiative to include more poignant and dramatic undertones to his movies, but in Tenenbaums it was done subtly and tastefully. And I think it says something that some of the world's greatest acting talents (Bill Murray, Anjelica Huston, Gwyneth Paltrow, Gene Hackman) turned themselves over completely to Anderson, and let their characters become fully infused with his vision. And does it get any better than having Alec Baldwin read the narration?

21. 21 Grams (Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, 2003) - I swear it was a coincidence. Which is also a coincidence, because that's what this movie is based on--a couple coincidences, a couple bad mistakes, and suddenly there's an intense, complex drama between a handful of characters in which everyone's lives seem to be at stake. If you read through the plot on Wikipedia, it sounds like an awful soap opera. But in Inarritu's capable hands, it somehow works. And it works brilliantly. He's a master of mood, and the word "penetrating" seems to come to mind--his effort is to penetrate the characters' minds, and throughout the course of the film, they're fully exposed. All their wishes, all their love, all their lust, all their horrible deeds. The film's title refers to a "scientific" study which found that immediately after death, humans weighed 21 grams lighter--aka the weight of a human soul. But instead of an analogy to the loss of human souls, this film seems to be about characters who simply don't have souls--but are desperately, ravenously searching to find them.

20. Gladiator (Ridley Scott, 2000) - Perhaps the earliest film on this list, Gladiator is, by now, a classic. Other films have referenced it, and even its references have been referenced, and guys everywhere like to shout a couple Maximus Decimus Meridius quotes when they're feeling particularly powerful. It features one of the all time greatest villains in movies, Joaquin Phoenix's Commodus, and the lead role is perfectly fit for Crowe's enormous ego. I have to admit I didn't fall in love with Gladiator when it first came out--I thought it was overblown and overrated. But letting time pass is a good way to judge films. Some of them just seem to disintegrate, they no longer have the same weight as they did originally. Others, like Gladiator, seem to be built on a stronger foundation that can stand. In this case, I think it's the story, moreso than the acting or action. What makes Gladiator great is that we see a man taken from the top and stripped of everything he has, to the point where he's barely a man anymore. And despite the challenges that face him, he gets his revenge--a bloody, satiating revenge.

19. Bowling for Columbine (Michael Moore, 2002) - Maybe you don't like Michael Moore, and that'd be fair. He's grating, he certainly skews things to prove his point, and to make matters worse he has that annoying nasally voice. But if you look beyond the overt politics of his features like Fahrenheit 9/11 and Sicko, there's Bowling for Columbine, a documentary that, yes, is slanted and political, but has a heart. Only the most hardened right wingers could watch this movie and not be swayed--and they probably wouldn't watch it in the first place. Like a narrative, Moore sets his characters, his most important characters, Columbine victims, and then goes about a whole set of investigative "journalism" to try and determine the reason for the tragedy. You can skewer it all you want, but then again, you can skewer anything if you really want--and when it comes down to it, as far as documentaries go, this one is expertly diagrammed and hammers home a pretty powerful point. One of the best (and most entertaining) documentaries I've ever seen.

18. 25th Hour (Spike Lee, 2002) - The height of my Edward Norton love. The guy hammered home American History X (with the exception of the end crying scene) and Fight Club, so when 25th Hour rolled around, with its intriguing plot (made man drug dealer on his last day before prison) and pedigree crew (director Lee, sidekicks Philip Seymour Hoffman, Brian Cox) I was sold. And I wasn't let down. Though I've never read the novel, you can tell the screenplay (adapted by author David Benioff) stays pretty true to the plot. I love it. I think it's twisted, expository, emotional, and features characters you might normally only find in movies having to deal with the fact that they're human. A great movie, start to finish, and it even features a fantastic supporting performance by NFL star Tony Siragusa.

17. Memento (Christopher Nolan, 2000) - I have a theory that lots of people love Memento because they feel like they're supposed to, because it's unusual, it's told in backwards chronology, it's artistic. Maybe I'm being unfair, but Memento does establish a certain standard of uniqueness that has set the bar pretty high for subsequent "arty" features. It's very cerebral. The best thing that Guy Pearce does during this movie is to undersell it. As a guy without short term memory, the only motivation he can have is from what's immediately available in front of him. Emotion is secondary. Just like us, he has to piece together his story from what he can see--which is why playing it backwards is so brilliant. We don't really know everything that led us to this point, we just know what happens. No memory, no puzzle pieces fitting together, no natural cause-effect path leading us to the anticipated ending. Clever. And frustrating. Just like any good puzzle should be.

16. Hero (Zhang Yimou, 2002) - Gorgeous. Just watch ten minutes of this movie and try not to be floored by the visuals. With some of the modern Chinese movies that are coming out, I wonder if American filmmaking is more than just a few steps behind Asian countries in visual beauty. And on top of it, Hero has a sweet plot, great acting, ridiculous staging, and terrific choreography. There's almost no dialogue, but who needs it? It would just take you away from the real strength of the film: what you can see. I haven't seen any other movies by Yimou but I wonder why not.

15. Brokeback Mountain (Ang Lee, 2005) - Go ahead, start with the jokes. I realize it's just a fact that some people don't really agree with the subject matter of this movie, and that even others think that the movie's overblown by its buzzword tagline ("gay cowboy movie") and isn't really that good. Don't count me amongst those people. I think it's great. Heath Ledger absolutely shines, and the supporting cast is fantastic--Anne Hathaway, Michelle Williams, Linda Cardellini, Randy Quaid, they're all great. And Ang Lee is like a wizard. He handles the film so delicately, I never found myself thinking about any unintentional comedy, which is surprising considering the nature of the story. In the end, it's a drama, and a love story, and it doesn't matter what gender the lead characters are. I still think it was robbed of Oscars--both Best Picture (Crash) and Best Actor (Capote's Hoffman over Ledger).

14. The Wrestler (Darren Aronofsky, 2008) - Don't call it a comeback. Or do. Either way. I'll be honest, I know very little about Mickey Rourke, especially 80s heartthrob Mickey Rourke, and kind of know him as that mangled-faced thug from movies like Domino and Spun. All of that aside, I was extremely pumped for this movie to come out, as Aronofsky is one of my favorite directors and it was getting press for its minimal style. It was tremendous. It nailed almost every note, and Rourke overnight became a legitimate acting sensation, having his bristly tough guy exterior stripped completely, and I couldn't have been happier. His Golden Globe acceptance speech was a thing of beauty--the sheer joy and relief coming from the guy filled the theater. And as good as Sean Penn was in Milk, I think the comparison between the two was that of the consummate professional who played his part to a T and didn't miss a single thing (Penn) versus the guy who spent his whole life waiting for a role and absolutely unloaded every last ounce of emotion on screen (Rourke). Such a great movie. Such a great performance.

13. Adaptation. (Spike Jonze, 2002) - We're starting to enter the territory of movies that I love so much I can hardly even describe why I love them. I think Adaptation is brilliant. Charlie Kaufman is one of the weirdest, funniest, most creative writers in the world, one of the most singular personalities to ever produce content for film. And this movie embodies him completely--unabashedly. It knowingly breaks almost every cliche of introductory screenwriting, but is so funny and charming and well constructed that you can't really argue against it. And Nicolas Cage has found himself in some questionable roles recently, but I think his performance in Adaptation is dynamite. Plus, it marked the first time in history that the Academy nominated a fictional person for an award (Donald Kaufman, twin brother of Charlie, but who actually doesn't exist).

12. Donnie Darko (Richard Kelly, 2001) - It's associated everywhere with the term "cult classic", which I feel like belittles it a little bit. Is it not possible to just call it a classic? Darko was affected directly by the events of September 11th, as the movies was released to theaters shortly afterwards and received almost no attention (I can't imagine a movie where an airplane accident destroys a house would be welcomed with open arms), only to find itself a home in the DVD market. It was a career-defining film for Jake Gyllenhaal, and I honestly doubt he'll ever be able to match it. What makes this movie even more fun is the endless room for debate about what happened. Talk to ten different people and you'll get ten different takes, and Richard Kelly totally embraced this idea. Instead of getting frustrated when people didn't "get it", he just opened his arms and said, "Here's my movie, take from it what you will."

11. The Departed (Martin Scorsese, 2006) - I'm glad Marty got over the hump with this movie, and not The Aviator, as The Departed was so much sharper (and more specific to his style). Tell me you saw it coming when you-know-who gets you-know-what'ed in the elevator? You didn't, neither did I. And then tell me you didn't give a fist pump when you-know-who-too finished off you-know-who-else right at the end? You did, so did I. It's great. It's so fantastically wicked, though its Hong Kong predecessor Infernal Affairs probably deserves a lot of the credit for that. But Scorsese doesn't disappoint. The action keeps coming at you, the tension keeps building, there are so many surprises even though they all make sense (which is a very difficult combination to achieve), and the performances live up to the star-studded billing. Nicholson is probably my favorite in the movie, I think he just owns Frank Costello. And the music is awesome. Almost every time I think about The Departed, it makes me want to watch it. That's how good it is.

10. The Fountain (Darren Aronofsky, 2006) - Probably one of the most emotional movies I've ever seen. My friends might say it was just depressing, but for me it's one hell of a roller coaster ride, and connects with just about everything I already feel. So, naturally, it sticks with me. But aside from the emotional side of things, I think it's great for other reasons--Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz are good, not great, but have their moments, and visually the movie is mindblowing. Kudos to the production design for utilizing organic visual effects over computer generated ones. They made the space sequences by filming tiny microbiotic reactions on a microscope and blowing them up to fill the screen, creating an effect that Aronofsky says will last forever instead of becoming dated upon the arrival of newer computer technology (great forward thinking). And it has one of my favorite soundtracks of all time, a joint project between composer Clint Mansell and the rock band Mogwai, which resulted in a very epic sounding score that persists throughout the film. As a bare-bones analysis, it probably wasn't Aronofsky's best work, and the story had potential enough to result in a better script. But many times films are more than the sum of their parts, and this is a case where I feel that is true a hundred times over.

9. Mulholland Drive (David Lynch, 2001) - If you ever mention this movie, the likely response will be, "What do you think actually happens?" And it's a valid question. Throughout his career, David Lynch has capitalized on the subjective nature of film--he likes to show his movies through his characters eyes, or through his eyes, or through the eyes of someone going through a bad acid trip. And chalk Mulholland Drive up to that last one. To be honest, I think some of his work borders on being confusing just to be confusing, but with Mulholland, I think there's a point--and the overwhelming point is that he simply hates Hollywood. And why not? If he can make movies completely outside of the studio system that speak to viewers in a way that those inside of it can't, then he should embrace that. And Mulholland Drive is a movie that hooks you from start to finish, you have to pay attention for every second or you're liable to be lost beyond reconciliation, and that's probably how he'd like it.

8. No Country for Old Men (Coen Brothers, 2007) - Say what you will about the end (I know a lot of people hate it), but this movie is razor sharp. While I was watching it for the first time, besides being scared out of my mind by Javier Bardem, I was continually amazed by the lack of wasted shots. There were none. The tension is fantastic, the use of dialogue is minimal and the Coens rely on framing, camera movement, and facial expressions to guide viewers along to most of the details. It's definitely a crowing achievement for the duo, considering their lack of global recognition for all their previous work, like Fargo, Raising Arizona, The Big Lebowski, and Blood Simple. It lacks some of the quirky charm of their previous efforts, but in a way I think it was their way of saying, "We don't have to be pigeonholed into a certain style." Their contempt for the generally overblown Hollywood media machine is pretty evident, and I kind of feel like they made this movie just to prove to their doubters that they could, as they had developed a long-standing cult following and industry respect, but were without that Oscar to solidify their resumes. Well, now they have it.

7. There Will Be Blood (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2007) - In many respects, There Will Be Blood was the co-movie of the year in 2007 along with No Country. I can't say for sure why I think the media voted for No Country and not Blood, but I've been over it dozens of times in my head and if I had to pick one, I'd go here. Daniel Day-Lewis's performance is legendary (like most of his are) and completely dominates the frame. It elevates the movie from "watching to see what happens" to "watching because I want to see everything he does". It's that detailed. And director Paul Thomas Anderson is no slouch, having made critical successes like Boogie Nights and Magnolia, and earlier mention Punch-Drunk Love. He elicits star-making performances out of Paul Dano and Dillon Freasier (who plays Daniel's son H.W.) despite their young ages. Unfortunately, only Day-Lewis was really recognized by the press throughout all of this. Anderson and the film in general ended up taking backseats to No Country, which I thought was disappointing, but highlighted an unfortunate reality of the year-to-year award cycle--that it's kind of random and completely subjective. There has to be an Oscar every year, whether or not it was a down year (like 2009), and on the flip side, there can be only one Oscar every year, even if there are two neck-and-neck contenders (like Blood/No Country). Unfortunately for Anderson, the timing just wasn't right. But as time goes on I think this movie will rise to the top, as people will remember it for what a fantastic achievement it truly is.

6. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Michel Gondry, 2004) - I've heard that some people hate this movie. I love it. I love every minute of it. It's funny, it's sad, it's thought-provoking, depressing, heartwrenching, beautiful, all of it. It's just about everything you could ever ask for, packed into two hours, courtesy of the brilliant minds of Charlie Kaufman and Michel Gondry. As a duo, I think they work together about as well as any. Kaufman is quirky but melancholic, and has the ability to nail down the most insanely small details of his stories. Whereas most of the time, you could see a movie, and afterwards ask, "But what would have happened if this ___?", I think Kaufman does as good a job as any at eliminating those questions. It's being clever without being confusing. And, as his counterpart, Gondry is fun and artistic, creative, energetic--a nice balance to Kaufman's nearly eternal pessimism. He was able to film Eternal Sunshine using only camera-related tricks, no CGI, which is impressive given the fantastical nature of the story and the within-the-mind settings. We're even treated to a stellar performance by Jim Carrey as the lead, Joel, which is something, I think, for a while people doubted they would ever say. Kate Winslet is pretty much always good, but Joel is the heart of the movie, and without Carrey expanding his horizons, the story wouldn't have felt as robust as it did. Of all the movies on this list, this one is the one that I'm most jealous that I didn't make.

5. Oldboy (Park Chan-wook, 2003) - Admittedly, most of the movies on this list are American films, as that's what I'm most often exposed to, and because filmmaking is such a huge industry in America there's always plenty to choose from. But that doesn't mean there aren't foreign films that rival or better the ones that are produced domestically. Oldboy is good enough to go toe-to-toe with anything American and send it home with its tail between its legs. It's sick. I mean that in both the way that young'uns these days say something is "righteous" or "tubular", and also in the way that it has a very twisted, demented plot, that kind of makes you want to vomit and applaud all at the same time. I don't really want to give anything away, but it's part of director Park Chan-wook's so called "Vengeance Trilogy", and features a lead character, Oh Dae-su, who is wrongfully imprisoned for fifteen years and then released, at which point he unleashes a whirlwind of hurt on anyone whom he discovers that was involved with the ordeal. This includes a ridiculously awesome sequence where he beats the living daylights out of two dozen dudes in a hallway, expertly framed in one long, long take. Like I mentioned with Zhang above, I haven't seen any other films made by Park, which is kind of a disgrace on my part. If you can stomach it, it's one hell of a movie. And I've heard rumors of an American re-make, which disappoints me greatly. Let the classics be, Hollywood.

4. Requiem for a Dream (Darren Aronofsky, 2000) - I'm not even sure where to begin. It's been ten years since it came out, and in that time, just about every positive thing there is to say about it has been said. It's seminal. It's the archetype for junkie movies now, everybody wants to copy the rapid-fire cutting of the using sequences, not to mention the fish-eye and the extreme unflattering closeup that intensify the sensation of being lit. Some people argue that it's over stylized, that it's borderline seizure-inducing, but I feel like it's all part of the effect. And the effect is enormous. People might question the glorification of drug abuse in films, typically depicted as guys getting rich and powerful and using drugs and getting women, appealing to the wanton desires in most people--but that can not be said about Requiem. It leaves you feeling absolutely wretched and empty afterwards, I would call it almost horribly depressing (this is where you start to wonder why I think something so awful could be so great) and probably provides the least appeal to drug use of any movie ever. But if people can't watch stories of amazing success, then the next best thing is of incomparable screw-ups. And by screw-ups, I mean you-know-what-ups. And in this case, everyone succeeds in being major failure. Jared Leto is fantastic, he's our eyes and ears in the story, but as time goes on we (like him) become less capable of affecting his actions, his goals and desires are more futile. Ellen Burstyn is completely hidden within her character, the transformation is so complete I'm sometimes surprised when I see her in other things. And Marlon Wayans is even great, he thankfully underplays his role, checking his Scary Movie baggage at the door. But I'd be remiss if I didn't mention one of the most captivating features of the film--the soundtrack. Clint Mansell is one of my favorites, but this is the reason why he is. I think Requiem's score is the single most effective use of music in any movie I've seen. It improves almost every scene, and you can judge how epic it is by the fact that main theme has been used in about six thousand movie trailers and commercials since then, including, famously, the Lord of the Rings: Two Towers previews. I think it has to go down as one of the greatest scores of all time. Just as this movie is, at least in my opinion, one of the greatest of all time. And tremendous applause to Aronofsky, who released only three films in this decade, all of which have made it into my top 15.

3. The Dark Knight (Christopher Nolan, 2008) - Yes, I know it's based off a comic book, and has had hundreds of incarnations in various forms of media, and we shouldn't be surprised by anything Batman anymore. And yes, I know it's 2 hours and 40 minutes long. But I just can't hold back how much I love this movie. I debated it's place on this list for a while, I thought about how I'd feel about it in a few years, once the excitement has died down. But then I started watching some of it again. And few movies have the ability to get my pulse pounding like The Dark Knight, right from the opening shot, which is amazing by the way. Admittedly, it's not Christian Bale's strongest performance. He went over-gruff on the manly voice, and over-wimpy on the "Rachel's dead". But he's a great Batman, and a good Bruce Wayne, something I talked about in my blurb on Batman Begins. As great as that movie was, it was completely overshadowed by this one. And maybe some of that has to do with Heath Ledger, but I'd like to argue that the real star of this movie was Christopher Nolan. Batman Begins was his first legitimate action movie, and you could tell he wasn't really adept at pacing and spatial continuity. The fight scenes were rushed and kind of awkward, but it still had a great story and many visually impressive shots. Well, he took that to the next level with The Dark Knight. It set new highs in screen-filling visuals, upped the tension, and followed one twist and turn with another. Nolan harnessed his extensive abilities and made the Batman film it seemed like he wanted to make, not the studio. They completely limited the use of CGI--only in a couple scenes involving skyscrapers, and not because he wanted to, but because national laws prevented him from doing it the way he intended. And it goes a long way. I've said it before, but I really don't think this is a comic book movie. It's no Spiderman with Peter shooting webs from his wrists and zinging from building to building, or Fantastic Four where characters go invisible or ignite in flames. Batman, and especially Nolan's Batman, is a plausible story. He has no superhuman abilities. He can't stop a bullet with his eyeball. He uses his deep pockets and intelligent friends to make himself into a lone-wolf ass-kicker, and I think Nolan's use of real landscapes and physical footage goes a long way to extend that characteristic of the story. Which is why it's frustrating that this movie didn't get the awards consideration it should have at the end of the year. By all accounts, it was the movie of the year. Maybe Slumdog created about as much of a stir because of its cultural impact, but The Dark Knight dominated headlines and box offices from day one. If this movie had been re-shot so that Batman was just a vigilante detective and the Joker was just a homicidal maniac, instead of their canonical comic characters, it would have been the best crime action/thriller yet. But slap the name Batman on something and suddenly the movie loses value--it becomes just another popcorn-popping summer blockbuster. Yeah, I'm still kind of bitter about it. This write up is already insanely long, so I'll close by saying that the interrogation room scene is my single favorite scene of the movie, and one of my all-time favorite scenes. I could watch it again, and again, and again. Their interaction is priceless. Ledger will be missed, but damn if he didn't give us one historically great turn before he left.

2. The Prestige (Christopher Nolan, 2006) - I had a tough time deciding between The Prestige and The Dark Knight, just as I had a tough time deciding on almost every slot of this countdown, but considering we're in the #2 range, you would think it would be more clear-cut. Well it wasn't. But then I watched The Prestige again, a few weeks ago. And while The Dark Knight might be the bigger, badder movie, I have to side with The Prestige here, because I think the execution is a little more flawless. One of the benefits to the Batman project is that viewers can fill in the rest of a character based on what they know already. Nolan made vague references to the Joker's background, but, as we know, the Joker is the Joker, and he plays the foil. The Prestige takes completely new characters that are as devious and conniving as the Joker, but has to build them from scratch. And they're built wonderfully. I have to say I was drawn in immediately by the trailer from this movie, especially from the misleading series of shots with Michael Caine's voiceover, "This was built by a man who can actually do the things magicians claim to." At the time, I thought he was referring to Christian Bale's character Alfred Borden. It turned out he was referring to Nikola Tesla (played by David Bowie), but they had me hooked and I found no reason to let go. It's just so smart, and deliciously twisted. Nolan can't take all the credit, after all, the story was adapted from a novel, but I think it should be noted that he has now appeared here back to back #2 and #3--which could be a chicken-and-egg deal because of a potential bias I could have. But I'm quite confident what came first was his superior abilities, and what followed was my love of his films. After all, he only made five movies this decade, and they all show up here, including #32, #18, #3, and #2.

1. City of God (Fernando Meirelles, 2002) - Completely blew me away, and it still does, even now. It redefined the concept of realism in movies, as Meirelles utilized very minimal, very up-close-and-person style. Nothing seems staged, nothing seems scripted, and yet it's one of the most powerful stories you'll ever see on film. I consider myself a fan of movies that go the extra mile to simulate realism, but City of God (Cidade de Deus, as its known in native Brazil) went the extra marathon. Real kids from the real slums of Rio fill the playbill, people whose lives have been affected since day one by the unending violence going on there. And it shows. I'm having quite a difficult time even elaborating on what makes it so great to me. There's no formula. There's no "this + that + those = good" that applies to this movie. It just astonished me. I had heard good things about it going in, people telling me that they thought it was really good, that I needed to see it, so I sat back, pressed play and two hours later I had barely blinked. Some people view movies as an escape--glitzy sets with famous actors on sound stages in Hollywood. And that's fine. But for me, the linchpin of filmmaking is the story. If you start with a good story, and you reveal it in a creative way, you'll score, regardless of what actors you have and how much money you spend. And City of God is a perfect example of that. Maybe it's not the sole cause, but you can see fingerprints of City of God's success across the filmmaking globe. Slumdog Millionaire shares many features--a guerrilla style, on location shooting, fast pace, hand held camera, impoverished urban setting. After decades of producing the world's best movies on billion dollar studio sets, there seems to be a movement recently away from the controlled environment. Filmmakers are saying, "How can we take ourselves out of that iconic fishbowl and dive into what's really going on in the world, into the stories and events that are really affecting people?" City of God does that. And it does that phenomenally. I've never been to Brazil and my life is probably the furthest thing from what they've gone through, and yet, I love Rocket. I love Knockout Ned. And Angelica, and Benny. I'm weirded out by Tiago and Shorty. I hate Carrot and Lil' Ze. I think my psychological distance from the characters adds to the realism. I don't recognize them as the actor Brad Pitt or the girl from That 70s Show. I've never seen them before. They exist to me only as their characters, which makes the characters explode to life on screen. They seem to matter more, I want the right things to happen. Unfortunately, in the City of God, the right thing almost never happens. It's a sad movie, and in many ways a very frightening movie. But it's also brilliant, and I'm not the least bit ashamed to declare that it's the best movie I've seen this decade.

#039 - Top 200 Movies of the Decade (50-26)

#200-176

#175-151

#150-126

#125-101

#100-76

#75-51

I've been inspired by some other decade-end lists that I've read to give a special nod out there to some of my favorite acting performances from the movies on this list. Unfortunately, the best performances are not always in the best movies, though they usually do go a long way. I'm hesitant to rank them, because, although I know what my #1 would be for each category, I'm not sure I could properly sort them in a 1-10 list. But I'll give it a shot:

Supporting Actress:

10. Maria Bello - A History of Violence

9. Emily Mortimer - Lars and the Real Girl

8. Elpidia Carrillo - Bread and Roses

7. Marisa Tomei - The Wrestler

6. Audrey Tatou - Dirty Pretty Things

5. Meryl Streep - Adaptation.

4. Jennifer Connelly - Requiem for a Dream

3. Abigail Breslin - Little Miss Sunshine

2. Amy Ryan - Gone Baby Gone

1. Amy Adams - Junebug

Lead Actress:

10. Paulina Gaitan - Sin Nombre

9. Naomi Watts - 21 Grams

8. Judi Dench - Notes on a Scandal

7. Charlize Theron - Monster

6. Helen Mirren - The Queen

5. Kate Winslet - Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

4. Samantha Morton - In America

3. Julia Roberts - Erin Brockovich

2. Ellen Burstyn - Requiem for a Dream

1. Hilary Swank - Million Dollar Baby

Supporting Actor:

10 & 9. Michael Caine & Philip Seymour Hoffman - Everything. The absolute best sidekicks money can buy.

8. Clive Owen - Inside Man

7. Eugene Hutz - Everything is Illuminated

6. Billy Crudup - Almost Famous

5. Ralph Fiennes - Red Dragon

4. Gael Garcia Bernal - Amores Perros

3. Jackie Earle Haley - Little Children

2. Javier Bardem - No Country for Old Men

1. Heath Ledger - The Dark Knight

Lead Actor:

10. Nicolas Cage - Adaptation.

9. Jack Nicholson - About Schmidt

8. Leonardo DiCaprio - The Departed

7. Russell Crowe - Gladiator

6. Sean Penn - Milk

5. Choi Min-Sik - Oldboy

4. Ryan Gosling - Half Nelson

3. Heath Ledger - Brokeback Mountain

2. Mickey Rourke - The Wrestler

1. Daniel Day-Lewis - There Will Be Blood

I support arguments against any of these, with the exception of Day-Lewis. Don't even think about it, homeboy. Do you understand, Eli?

Let's continue with the list, starting at #50.

50. Almost Famous (Cameron Crowe, 2000) - It features the above-mentioned Billy Crudup's sparkling turn as Russell Hammond, an amalgam of 70s rockers who explodes to life on screen, as well as Patrick Fugit's welcoming party. It seems like the movie Crowe was always intended to make, semi-autobiographical and a true homage to the dissolving legends of rock'n'roll. Most people will cite its soundtrack, which is phenomenal, but the movie is eminently quotable and turns out to be a very well-constructed, emotional story. Kudos to Crowe for the film's poignancy, and for doing it without having to clutter the plot with too much formulaic cheese.

49. Shrek (Andrew Adamson, 2001) - If you don't like Shrek, you're a liar, or you're dead inside. Filled with a laundry list of fantastic characters (except for the princess, who I think is relatively boring), laughs, allusions, and satire, Shrek is loved by adults despite the fact that it's a children's movie, and by children despite the fact that they don't even get half of it yet. It was even featured in I Am Legend as Will Smith's bad-ass character's favorite movie. And it was commercially successful enough to prompt a sequel, and another sequel, and another sequel (and just projecting for the future, I'm going to add "and another sequel" just so I cover my bases). You can't argue with results. And you can't argue with a damned good movie.

48. Punch-Drunk Love (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2002) - Maybe flew a little under the radar, but this quirky movie by PTA features Adam Sandler's first somewhat serious turn, as decorative plumber entrepreneur (and possibly behaviorally handicapped) Barry Egan. Jon Brion provides a great score for the film, just one in a string of many solid efforts from him, and Philip Seymour Hoffman again nails a character role as the villain, Mattress Man. It's not the easiest movie in the world to get into, but it just happened to strike me as enjoyable, thanks in no small part to a cult following between myself and friends. I don't blame you for disliking it, but it will always be one of my personal favorites.

47. Ocean's 11 (Steven Soderbergh, 2001) - Ocean's 12 and 13 tanked big time, let's not pretend they didn't. But Ocean's 11 was insanely fun--the whole reason behind the follow-up gigs to begin with. Most of the actors hardly have to go out of their way to play their roles, which is probably what makes their crew seem to have such an easy time with chemistry--Clooney as suave leader, Pitt as charming sidekick, Damon as nosy up and comer. It works. I've never seen the original, but this remake probably benefits from time--it registers off the charts on the glitz and glamour scale.

46. Brick (Rian Johnson, 2005) - While you and I and everyone else might never understand the context for the story, you have to appreciate the smile-inducing irony of a group of preppy high school teens turned drug lords. Johnson tries his hand at updated noir--a full scale detective story with Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Brendan, a quick witted Sam Spade apprentice, who relies on his best friend Brain and a sixth sense for heat to uncover the mystery behind his ex-girlfriend's disappearance and death. It's smart, it's catchy, it's slightly wicked and informed--just everything that you could ever want from a debut feature. Brendan might be the kind of character that makes you say, "there's no way this is a high school kid," but that doesn't really stop anyone from appreciating any other movie with any other exaggerated character. Rounds of applause to all.

45. Half Nelson (Ryan Fleck, 2006) - Ryan Gosling steps down from the ferris wheel of The Notebook-induced heartthrob sensationalism and into the meaty role of Dan Dunne, inspired inner-city teacher on the verge of self-implosion. And he's fantastic. I mean, really. Dan is able and hoping to save everyone but himself, spending his off hours glued to a crack pipe and favoring prostitutes. Only Drey (Shareeka Epps), a battered, innocent soul, can help bring Dan out of his haze and help him reach his full potential. It's a terrific movie, through and through. It's a touch slow, and the camera lingers, but Fleck frames beautiful urban and introspective images, so that's a bonus and not a problem. Indie music fans might be interested in the score, served up by Canadian band Broken Social Scene, whose music perfectly reflects the story at hand.

44. Dirty Pretty Things (Stephen Frears, 2002) - In America, we have Martin Scorsese. In England, they have Stephen Frears. The acclaimed director of The Queen, High Fidelity, and Dangerous Liaisons, Frears takes a gritty turn with Dirty Pretty Things, an urban drama about immigrants in London's poorest neighborhoods. I can't get over the strong performances throughout--lead Chiwitel Ejiofor, Sophie Okonedo, Audrey Tatou--all spectacular. The movie pulls no punches, featuring black market kidney transplants, prostitution, sexual abuse, intense poverty, violence--it's a complete portrait of the troubles of lower class life, and Frears tackles each one aggressively.

43. Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (Peter Jackson, 2002) - Yes, it's my favorite. Whereas Fellowship is all exposition and Return is filled with never-ending sequences, Two Towers nestles perfectly in the middle, an epic war movie disguised as fantasy. It includes some of the trilogy's most memorable scenes, like Gandalf coming over the hill, and a flurry of high-adrenaline moments. And there was that sweet part where they toss Gimli into the crowd. It'll end up as being the most overlooked of the LOTR films, but in my mind, it was a success in every way.

42. Children of Men (Alfonso Cuaron, 2006) - A liquid-metal-hot Clive Owen (I mean his career buzz, not his looks) led this clever and powerful movie from Cuaron, who was coming off the success of Y Tu Mama Tambien and the third Harry Potter feature. Extensive applause must be given here to the trailer editor, who put together basically the best trailer in the history of cinema, topped off by Sigur Ros's beautiful song Hoppipola. Chiwitel Ejiofor pops up again as a very convincing sidekick, and relative unknown Claire-Hope Ashitey shines as the expectant mother of the world's only newborn baby. A very hazy and sad outlook on the future as a whole, but the film is marked by a moving sequence in which an entire civil war comes to a standstill as everyone appreciates the potential of new life.

41. Million Dollar Baby (Clint Eastwood, 2004) - Part of that locked-in phase where Paul Haggis could do no wrong, he wrote the script for this movie for Eastwood to direct and Hilary Swank to star (she carried home her second Oscar as a result). The movie was well executed all around, became a critical darling, and eventually took home the Best Picture Oscar. It has so many great moments, and so many stomach-churning ones, even if you look past the contrived injury scene. Maggie's unfathomable relationship with her family carries the film for its second half, making you want to leap out and strangle them. And while I'm not a huge fan of the quite-old Clint Eastwood, the sequence when he bareknuckle knocks the shit out of that mouthy kid is definitely a fist-pumper. Also, Morgan Freeman is awesome. In case you didn't know.

40. The Pianist (Roman Polanski, 2002) - By the end of its run, The Pianist seemed to make more negative headlines than positive ones--Polanski being a child molester and fleeing justice, Adrien Brody forcing himself upon Halle Berry--but that shouldn't take away from what was, simply put, a spellbinding movie. Holocaust films are always delicate to work with, and I think Polanski, who himself lived through many similar events to the film, nailed the mood. And Adrien Brody's big sad eyes carried him a long way towards making the movie as heartwrenching as possible. Admittedly, the fact that it was based on a true story, that Szpilman had to overcome such a devastating catastrophe, helps to make this movie stand out a bit further than the sum of its parts.

39. American Psycho (Mary Harron, 2000) - Maybe a generation-defining film about a completely separate generation, Bret Easton Ellis's novel became the ultimate career vehicle for Christian Bale as he transformed into the borderline psychotic Patrick Bateman. It kind of hopped on board the train of "wait, is this real?" movies (Fight Club, The Usual Suspects) but did it in a much more playful way, with the twist building character and not deception. To date, I think it's Bale's most perfectly suited role, the appearance-obsessed young executive who likes to unwind with ax in hand. It will probably always be quotable for viewers from my generation, even though we can barely remember the 80s.

38. Everything is Illuminated (Liev Schreiber, 2005) - The visually evocative movie poster gave way to a visually impressive film, Schreiber's directorial debut and a good one at that. Eugene Hutz's ebullient Alex is the cornerstone of the film, a character who moves the plot forward alongside a rather solemn and contemplative Jonathan (Elijah Wood). It's funny, it's sad, it's quite eye-opening, and moreso than anything else, tells a very human story of searching for identity, and of finding friendship. I haven't read the book, but I did read Jonathan Safran Foer's novel Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (perhaps my all time favorite book) and he is without a doubt a blossoming young writer whose creative fingerprints are all over this production.

37. X2: X-Men United (Bryan Singer, 2003) - Before The Dark Knight and Iron Man, the X-Men series helmed by Bryan Singer was the flagship comic book movie franchise, and I would argue that until Nolan's Batman series came along, X2 was THE comic book movie to beat. It was fast, it was slick, it had a wide variety of characters and good storylines, and made for the perfect summer blockbuster. It will always disappoint me that Singer left to go take on Superman (which bombed after just one installment) since it seemed like X-Men was a better setup: more interesting characters, more potential storylines, variable and more up-to-date action sequences.

36. United 93 (Paul Greengrass, 2006) - A defining film for anyone who lived through the events of September 11th, Greengrass provides us with the most salient individual story of that day--the everyday citizens aboard United flight 93 who banded together to thwart the terrorists' plans. The cast is littered with unknowns, which I think is perfect for a film that wants to stay true to its core and not be converted into a vanity piece for a major star. Brilliant concept. I'm not really ashamed to admit that United 93 elicited a good amount of tears from my eyes, even though I knew nobody involved and was relatively detached from the experience as a whole. It's simply powerful--the story, the film, the context, and I commend the filmmaking team for their vision.

35. Amores Perros (Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, 2000) - A Mexican film that takes three disparate stories and unifies them over certain characteristics--love, dogs, and love of dogs. Gael Garcia Bernal and Emilio Echevarria play the most pertinent characters of the story, Bernal in the initial vignette about a dogfighter who is in love with his brother's wife, and Echevarria in the last vignette as a professional hitman who is shunned by his family and his country to live a life of squalor on the streets. The twists and turns of the stories are fantastic, and the pacing and repetitive nature of the events (all three stories are joined together by a car crash... hmm... sounds familiar) keep it going and make the movie seem much shorter than it is. The middle story about the model is kind of take-it-or-leave-it for me, but there's no denying that this film is dynamite.

34. I Heart Huckabees (David O. Russell, 2004) - Russell might be a hothead on set (read), but he's a damned clever filmmaker, following the success of the Desert Storm picture Three Kings with this comedy, ostensibly about characters undergoing existential crises. I think, more than anything, it pokes fun at the whole culture of needing to find meaning with life, as the characters are charming yet silly, sometimes flat and disconnected. Jude Law and Mark Wahlberg are particularly entertaining, with Dustin Hoffman as always turning in an amusing, professional performance. Jon Brion provides the score to yet another indie-style success, as his music cues a lot of the light hearted movements in storyline.

33. Little Miss Sunshine (Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris, 2006) - A superb debut feature for Dayton and Faris, the team behind 2006's surprise critical smash that landed a Best Picture nomination and a Best Original Screenplay award. Abigail Breslin is likely not to recapture the panache of this performance again, which is unfortunate, because at that precise moment in time she was dazzling in her role as Olive. It just goes to show you that as long as you can make a movie that's fun, poignant, and makes you feel good, people all over will embrace it no matter what the subject matter. They caught lightning in a bottle and turned out a movie that people will watch fondly, again and again.

32. Batman Begins (Christopher Nolan, 2005) - I said before that X2 was THE comic book movie to beat, at least in my opinion, though critics were really high on Spiderman. That all changed in 2005 with the release of Batman Begins, Nolan's reboot of the Batman franchise that was once so promising under Tim Burton but fizzled miserably with the likes of Batman Forever and Batman & Robin. It's hard to imagine casting anyone but Bale as the lead anymore, he had found his way into the role of Bruce Wayne and has stuck--even though I think his earnestness about wanting to do good is a little tough to sell, he certainly can do the jet-setting playboy just right and gruff-voiced badass equally well. While Liam Neeson's (Ra's Al Ghul) and Cillian Murphy's (Dr. Crane/Scarecrow) characters are a bit cartoonish, the great part about this movie is its basis in reality. It's not so much a comic book movie, with the hire-wire acts and overabundance of CGI, as it is a gritty detective story, lone vigilante style. It was the right story with the right team at the right time, and it's made a lasting impact on the Hollywood movie industry.

31. A History of Violence (David Cronenberg, 2005) - I think a lot of people were surprised by this movie. B Movie icon Cronenberg is known for sci-fi mutations and dark scenes with overloaded shock value, but he hammered home this absolutely astonishing film starring Viggo Mortensen, Maria Bellow, and Ed Harris. It premiered around the height of the graphic novel-to-film trend, and I don't believe that anybody was disappointed with the result. It's not easy to stomach, though, as Cronenberg at that stage in his career was not about to start shooting sugar-coated violence just to appease the bigger-budget studio producers. It's got all the trappings of a movie made by someone who isn't about to compromise his own style, and while that might normally be a huge risk, it pays off handsomely here. Probably best remembered by some for a very aggressive stairwell scene.

30. Snatch. (Guy Ritchie, 2000) - Snatch seems like such a classic at this point that it's hard to imagine that it would qualify as part of this decade. It was the last movie Ritchie finished before his marriage to Madonna, at which time he coincidentally seemed to have a drop in professional output. But Snatch was razor sharp, filled credits to credits with one-liners, rapid dialogue, and stylized (but not silly) violence. Jason Statham holds the film together as the only level-headed character of the bunch, amidst a bevy of personalities, including Brad Pitt in his most immersive and unrecognizable role as Mickey, the gypsy boxer. There's not a college-aged male out there who doesn't love Snatch, and while that's not typically the most reliable demographic, I can agree with them on this one.

29. Sunshine (Danny Boyle, 2007) - Admittedly, it's probably a low point in critical success for Boyle, who smashed ceilings with Trainspotting, 28 Days Later, and Slumdog Millionaire, but Sunshine was particularly impressive to me, despite the fact that I know almost nobody who liked it (or even saw it). He once again utilizes the talents of Cillian Murphy as his lead (Capa), but I was really taken aback by Chris Evans--who normally finds himself in the bubble gum roles like Fantastic Four--as altruistic pilot Mace. Boyle gives us some terrific simulated visuals, a gripping story, and plenty of chills. I'm having an unusually hard time defending this movie, as I've gotten some negative feedback on it in the past, I just find it to be really sweet, with an awesome soundtrack provided by previous Boyle collaborator John Murphy and the hard rock band Underworld.

28. In America (Jim Sheridan, 2002) - Sheridan brings his Irish filmmaking talent to New York, telling the story of a newly immigrated family struggling to survive on the measly taxi driving wages of the father (Paddy Considine). Samantha Morton received numerous rave reviews for this movie, and deservedly so, but on par with her were Djimon Hounsou as a rogue artist neighbor suffering from AIDS and Considine as the eternally grief-stricken husband. Sheridan is noted for his ability to elicit strong performances from his actors, and this movie is no different. It might rip up your insides and turn you into an emotional wreck, but In America is a shining example of a powerful movie, made pitch-perfect.

27. Slumdog Millionaire (Danny Boyle, 2008) - Everyone's favorite India lovefest from 2008, Slumdog actually started as a project that almost nobody wanted to touch, given the difficulty of having to film to Boyle's strict expectations. Luckily, that hard-headedness paid off, and resulted in a terrific little movie that made stars out of Dev Patel and Freida Pinto. Personally, it's the young children that really carry the movie for me. They're fantastic, with ability well beyond their years, especially considering they almost certainly had no experience with any kind of performance art. The credit then is probably due to Boyle and co-director Loveleen Tandan, who headed all the operations in India. Almost everything good to say about the movie has already been said, from the soundtrack by A.R. Rahman to the invasive and stark on-location filming in the slums. I was slightly disappointed with its Oscar win, considering that I didn't truly believe it to be the best film of 2008, but given the enormous reception it garnered in the States, it's hard to argue with it.

26. Sin City (Robert Rodriguez, 2005) - In between making all those Spy Kids and Sharkboy and Lava Girl movies, Robert Rodriguez somehow managed to churn out an awesome adaptation of Frank Miller's cult graphic novel Sin City, which was an overload on the senses as a cinema experience. Almost all the choices made turned out to be the right ones--the color, the finish, the sound, the actors (though I wasn't a big fan of Bruce Willis)--and as such, it stands today as a textbook example of how to translate cult graphic literature to the screen. The actors are too numerous to list individually, but I think they all embodied the legendary bad-ass nature of the comic to perfection.