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.
