Showing posts with label Years. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Years. Show all posts

1/16/2014

2013.

My Top Ten of 2013

10) Side Effects

One of the most difficult genres to write is the mystery genre. The storyteller not only has to develop an intricate story, but then choose when to reveal which details. Too much, too early and it seems clumsy and insulting. Too little, too late and it's as if the author had written themselves into a corner. It's like dancing in a minefield; every step must be in right spot, at the right time, in the right rhythm.

Side Effects is a good mystery film because it focuses on the journey instead of the destination. It isn't so much a Whodunnit as a Whydunnit and Howdunnit. The cast is fantastic. Jude Law pays the reluctant detective, uncovering the conspiracy engulfing him, trying to understand his place as the fall guy and redeem his life in the process. Rooney Mara and Catherine Zeta-Jones make a great pair of alternating villains/victims/red herrings/confidantes. And Channing Tatum sure did appear onscreen.

Side Effects owes a lot to the conspiracy thriller genre perfected by Alfred Hitchcock. If you like those types of films, you'll probably enjoy this one. It's tight, it's tense, and it's always moving. One of Soderbergh's greatest strengths as a director is his ability to keep multiple balls in the air at once, and Side Effects only makes you wonder why he waited so long to try his hand at the mystery genre. It's Holmesian in its plot twists, and smart throughout. I definitely recommend it.



9) Nebraska

I didn't grow up in a small town. I was suburban, through and through. I do, however, have an aunt, uncle and cousins who live in the middle-of-nowhere. I'm talking 1000 people maximum in a ten mile radius. My family used to visit often, as it was cheaper than a real vacation. If you've ever had a similar experience, the understated humor and scenery of Alexander Payne's Nebraska will speak to you directly.

Bruce Dern performs with tremendous passion and effort. He switches believably back and forth between senile, cantankerous, bitter and joyous. Relative unknown June Squibb plays his battleax of a wife, in a wonderful, hilarious role that's all but guaranteed to be nominated for an Oscar. Also of note is Will Forte, playing Dern's son and begrudging shepherd. Yes, Will Forte. SNL, Clone High, MacGruber, Will Forte. Forte displays a set of subtle comedic muscles he's never had the opportunity to flex, and it shows just how much he has to offer besides funny voices and an inability to read screenplays.

Nebraska works as both a biting satire and a quiet reflection of family life and small-town America. It reminds me so much of The Straight Story, and I loved The Straight Story. It's funny, it's heartwarming, it's tragic, and you develop so many feelings for the main characters over just an hour and a half, you cheer them on as their story draws to a close. It's a wonderful celebration of life, legacies, and fulfillment, no matter who stands in your way.


8) The Way Way Back

Oh, life. It's big, it's confusing, it's terrifying and it's just not fair. Good people get dealt bad hands, and bad people end up getting more than they ever deserve. And in the middle of it all are the teenagers, no longer under the blissful naivety of childhood, but not able to make the changes needed to fix the world. All they have a small, uncloseable porthole where all the pollution seeps in at a constant rate. Life sucks. Enter, the coming-of-age film.

The Way Way Back is typical in this regard, but that doesn't make it any less spectacular. Liam James plays a young man, unsure of his place both in the world and his family. His soon-to-be-stepfather (played very against-type by Steve Carrell) unceremoniously burdens him with adult-caliber stress and emotional problems. Further complicating things, he's dragged unwillingly on summer vacation. How does one escape from one's problems when one's problems completely engulf one's existence? Enter the magical slacker played by Sam Rockwell, to teach him by example, life is never so bad, and problems are never so real.

The Way Way Back reminds me a lot of my childhood (minus the adultery, marijuana and slacker mentors). I was quiet, misanthropic and I was dragged on my share of family vacations to places I didn't like. And when we got there, there was nothing to be done except lounge around, allowing my quiet, misanthropic self to fester. The film felt like it was speaking to me, directly. The protagonist's problems were my problems. I felt a moment of connection between me and a fictional character, across the stretches of time and space. Truth be told, you couldn't pay me to relive my teenage years. But as long as films like The Way Way Back continue popping up, I feel comfortable looking back.


7) Iron Man 3

Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang is one of my favorite films of all time, and it's taken quite a while, but I finally have my sequel. Robert Downey Jr reprises his role as Robert Downey Jr, while Don Cheadle stands in for Val Kilmer. Also returning is Protocop, the robotic, crime-fighting suits of armor, this time in a leading role.

Shane Black returns with his traditional action/comedy style, returning Downey to his most comfortable settings: southern California. Once again, Downey must uncover a massive, murder-laced conspiracy whilst hiding undercover, all for the sake of a pretty blonde girl. All the other Kiss Kiss Bang Bang staples are present as well: The incidental Christmas setting, the smart-ass henchmen, the film noir inspiration balanced by a bunch of goofy humor, shocking moments of gore delivered with Tom and Jerry physics, and so forth. It's a real treat, and I'm happy to finally have it. Bring on Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang 3!


6) Pacific Rim

This is what Transformers should have been. Seriously. I've never given more than two rat asses about the Transformers. If you had given me Pacific Rim instead of the LaBoeuf/Fox clusterfuck, you would have a fan for life. But you don't. Because you didn't. Instead of fixing the problems, you tried to add Ken Jeong into the mix.

There are no bad ideas, just bad executions. Pacific Rim works because it knows exactly what it's supposed to be: Giant robots fighting giant monsters. There's more influence from Toho Productions than from the works of Roland Emmerich. It's fun. It knows exactly when to take itself lightly (look at these names: Gipsy Danger, The Shatterdome, Hannibal Chau), and when to take itself seriously (anytime Rinko Kikuchi is onscreen). You care about these action scenes because they feature characters you respect, know, empathize with, and the stakes are raised so high, concerning them and them alone. It's not the fate of the world, it's the fate of THEM. The world is just a bonus.

There are so many things to love about Pacific Rim, ranging from themes such as multinationalism and feminism, to little things like Charlie Day and Burn Gorman's odd-couple schtick and Ellen McLain revisiting GLaDOS for no reason beyond fan service. All this and more is bundled up in a very smart, very stylized, very exciting genre film. And because of that, nobody went to see it. They prefer Transformers. People are dumb.



5) Inside Llewyn Davis

Inside Llewyn Davis is a tragedy wrapped up in the guise of a comedy. Or perhaps vice-versa. Oscar Isaac is Llewyn Davis, a folk singer in New York City, 1961, forced to go solo after his singer/songwriter partner commits suicide. Llewyn is the Art Garfunkel, the John Oates, the Andrew Ridgley. He tries his damndest to make his solo career work, but cannot due to bad breaks, missed opportunities, his own selfish nature and most tragic of all, his lack of talent.

The film features the trademark Coen Brothers style of various, colorful characters weaving in and out. Everyone in the cast is just wonderful. Carey Mulligan, Garret Hedlund, Adam Driver, Stark Sands, John Goodman, the list just keeps going on and on. It's all-inclusive. Even Justin Timberlake is wonderful, and understand, I only say nice things about Justin Timberlake once every three years.

Despite the diegetic insistence Llewyn lacks musical fortitude, the soundtrack is inescapably catchy and engrossing. After seeing the movie, I immediately fired up Spotify and listened to the entire soundtrack again and again, long into the night. It's just that good. That's Marcus Mumford of Mumford & Sons singing with Oscar Isaac in the trailer, who also helped produce the soundtrack. As of writing, it doesn't seem like Inside Llewyn Davis will replicate O Brother Where Art Thou's success, but it's definitely a worthy companion piece.


4) Frozen

It's the little things that make Frozen a wonderful film. I love the way various frozen items react, especially compared to their thawed versions. I love the way snow falls, in clumps and flakes alike. I love the way ice freezes, fractures and grows onscreen. I'm a grown man, but I've listened and lip-synched to the soundtrack unapologetically. I love how the animators have perfected various textures. That velvet looks like velvet. That wool looks like wool. That... other fabric looks real as well. (What do you want from me? I'm a film blogger, not a seamstress.)

Frozen has received lots of acclaim for updating the Disney fairy tale model. Getting married promptly after meeting a handsome man is a stupid idea. Love isn't exclusively a romantic thing. The main character isn't a princess, she's the goddamn queen, with all the responsibilities and duties therein. All of this is uncharted territory, and we're going full steam ahead. Don't just SET the bar, RAISE the bar!
 
Everything about Frozen is wonderful Disney magic, cranked to the max. I've overused the word "love" in this review, but to hell with it; in for a penny, in for a pound. I love the story, I love the themes, I love the subtleties, I love the humor, I love the animation, I love the music, I love the characters. I love it, I love it, I love it. It's too early to claim Disney is in the midst of another renaissance, but if they keep it up, I'd love to see what they do next.



3) The World's End
The final film in the Edgar Wright/Simon Pegg/Nick Frost Cornetto Trilogy, The World's End focuses on the dangers of nostalgia, arrested development, and destructive behavior, but does so in a comedy/sci-fi setting. Pegg plays Gary King, who reunites his four childhood friends to reattempt an incomplete bar crawl from their bygone youth: The Golden Mile. In a switch from the first two Cornetto movies, Frost plays the straightman while Pegg plays the lovable loser. It's a testament to the duo's acting range, as well as their strength as a pair.

What makes Edgar Wright so unique is his ability to blend the realistic with the absurd. A romantic comedy with zombies. A Shoot-Em-Up in a picturesque village. A hipster rock opera set in a video game world. The Big Chill meets Invasion of the Body Snatchers. This man should have made Abe Lincoln: Vampire Hunter.

And I'll just admit it: The ending is a cop out. They could have gone a dozen different ways, and they picked probably the worst direction. But that's okay. There's no such thing as perfection. When you like something, you don't ignore the flaws, you like it despite the flaws. And even though The World's End has a pretty big one, it doesn't detract from an otherwise grand movie. Cheers all around.


2) Her 

Science fiction is a strange genre, and the better the story, the more malleable the genre conventions become. Her continues the philosophies of Isaac Asimov, proffering questions about what constitutes a life, an experience, an emotion, a feeling, a thought, and how science could not only transcend those definitions, but make an artificial entity that fully incorporates them.

Her is the story of Ted Twombley, an ordinary man who purchases an AI operating system on a whim. As the film progresses, Ted learns the AI isn't just a genuine personality simulation, but an actual artificial human, who identifies itself as Samantha. Friendship, romance, desire, dependency and passion stem from what should have been nothing more than voice-recognition software. And it's absolutely wonderful.

No force in Heaven or Earth could convince me this is silly, disingenuous, or phony. Ted and Samantha are 2013's Rick and Ilsa. It is genuine love. You feel engrossed in every conversation. You feel every feeling. You feel touched when they touch. It is real. Scarlett Johansson never appears onscreen. Not even in a cameo (and there were plenty of opportunities.) And yet, her voice work is so powerful, so moving, so hauntingly beautiful, she deserves a special award of merit. Melt down two Heisman trophies and three Peabodys, and just leave the result on her doorstep. I'll cover the shipping cost. Her is, with no hyperbole, one of the greatest romance stories to ever grace the silver screen. It's not conventional, but then again, great stories rarely are.


1) Gravity

Every time I try to find intellectual discourse on film, I'm always greeted with chants of how CGI and special effects and 3D presentation is ruining the medium. From this day forward, every time I see this argument, I'll cue up a clip from Gravity, one of the most breathtaking, remarkable experiences I've ever had in a movie theater.

The story is scenery. Sandra Bullock is an astronaut who becomes stranded after an accident leaves her isolated and shipwrecked in the cold, hostile vacuum of space. Using the limited resources available, including oxygen, she must not only survive, but find a way back to the warm embrace of planet Earth.

On the other hand, the story is the scenery. There were actual moments I forgot I was watching a movie. A fictional construct. Not actual footage of people in outer space. The scenery (or lack thereof, I guess) is so amazing, rich and beautiful. It looks like space. It feels like space. I've never actually been myself, but I fully believe Gravity is the single closest representation of space in film history. I can't believe something so near perfect exists, and I'm thankful for the privilege of seeing it.

CGI is not a plague. It is not an abomination. It is a tool. In the right hands, tools can build a house. In the wrong hands, tools can build an O'Charleys. The only difference is whoever wields the hammer, the chisel or the paintbrush. CGI can do wonderful, amazing things, and we the viewer should encourage filmmakers to test the limits of what those things are, not besmirch them for trying. We go to the movies to see things we've never seen before, hear stories we've never heard before, experience things we've never experienced before. In order to do this, we sometimes need to bend the rules of time and space, and that's precisely what SFX advancements allow us to do. Otherwise we're just a group of neo-luddites who should line up for the latest zoetrope.

Gravity is one of the best films of 2013, and certainly my favorite of the year. It preaches the simple message of never giving up, and never abandoning hope. If we received a film this good this year, who knows what the future may bring.



And now, The Also-Rans:

2/25/2013

My God, It's Full of Stars

5 Star Movies
Skyfall
Hugo
How to Train Your Dragon
Star Trek
Burn After Reading
Zodiac
Borat
Batman Begins
Collateral
Pirates of the Caribbean


4 Star Movies
Wreck-It Ralph
The Muppets
Jackass 3D
Adventureland
In Bruges
300
Paprika
War of the Worlds
Saw
Holes


3 Star Movies
Chronicle
Sucker Punch
The Last Exorcism
Watchmen
Tropic Thunder
Charlie Wilson's War
Night at the Museum
Harry Potter & The Goblet of Fire
National Treasure
Paycheck


2 Star Movies
Prometheus
Source Code
Cop Out
9
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
Ghost Rider
The Da Vinci Code
Corpse Bride
Garden State
The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen


1 Star Movies
Dark Shadows
Tower Heist
Jonah Hex
The Soloist
Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay
Smokin' Aces
Poseidon
Red Eye
The Stepford Wives
Hulk

1/13/2013

Top Ten 2012

My Ten Favorite Films of 2012:


"I like to ride. Fixed gear. No brakes. Can't stop. Don't want to, either."
10) Premium Rush

Back in the 90s, our action stars were muscle-bound behemoths like Jean-Claude Van Damme and Sylvester Stallone.  In the 00's, our action stars were muscle-bound behemoths like Vin Diesel and Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. In the 10's, action movies are getting strange. Half of Hollywood is unconvinced people like Bruce Willis and Arnold Schwarzenegger need to retire  The other half is turning to more unconventional actors. Some of the most popular action movies of recent years have starred Matt Damon, Liam Neeson, Michael Fassbender, Chris Pine, and the most prominent up-and-comer in the genre, Joseph Gordon-Levitt.

Action movies are one of those genres that fall in and out of favor. Audiences get impatient waiting for something new, but refuse to accept anything strange and different. And when that happens, we wind up with bloated sci-fi, CGI fests that don't make any sense. When that happens, you need to look for films like Premium Rush. A film that takes the core concepts of the action genre and distills them, leaving you with pure exemplar of the concepts without any of the silt. We have chase scenes, race scenes, and ridiculous stunts. We have scenes with gunfights, car crashes, and bodily harm. It's exciting, it's captivating, the plot is paper-thin, and it clearly took more thought and effort than the last seven Jason Statham movies.



"There's nothing wrong with being scared... so long as you don't let it change who you are."

 9) Paranorman 

So it's come to this.  Zombies have become so ingrained in our culture, they made a kids movie about them. And I'm okay with this.

Laika Studios has had some terrible struggles internally, which is why they aren't producing films with the rapid frequency of other studios. This is a shame. Between Paranorman and Coraline, they clearly have great creative minds at their disposal. They're great animators, putting quality and dedication into the much under-appreciated stop-motion format. They're great storytellers, creating memorable characters, vivacious settings, and chilling stories that can entertain adults and kids alike.

Children's horror has much overlooked potential. Kids want to be scared. That's why Halloween is a billion dollar industry. You just have to cut out all the blood and gore and focus on the monsters and peril (which horror movies should be doing in the first place). Paranorman plays like a self-aware Halloween horror flick, playing off the expectations and conventions, following them at certain points and subverting them at others. While it doesn't go quite as tongue-in-cheek as another film further down on this list, it does offer entertainment for both novice and advanced horror afficianados.

 Also, correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe this is the first kid's film with an openly homosexual character. That deserves mention.


"We're in love. We just want to be together. What's wrong with that?"
8) Moonrise Kingdom

It's a Wes Anderson flick. Nothing else needs to be said.


...Okay, nothing else should be needed, but I'm a writer and I have obligations.

Last year, I defended Super 8, claiming child actors have gotten significantly better. That was the initial claim, and this is the corroborating body of evidence.  Jared Gilman and Kara Hayward may not deliver the most natural or realistic of performances, but in the world of the film, they're wonderful. I never doubt these two characters for a minute. Not only are our two leads very convincing and very engaging, the whole cadre of child stars deliver top notch performances, further  amplified by the adult cast. The usual Wes Anderson crew; Bill Murray, Bob Balaban and Jason Schwartzman once again provide whimsical performances. Joining them are surprisingly turns by Bruce Willis, Edward Norton, Frances McDormand and Tilda Swinton. It makes me wonder who else could become a Wes Anderson regular?

All of Anderson's pics feature hyper-stylization and style. They look like no other films, and look like nothing ever seen in real life. This particular excursion further emphasizes this style by oversaturating the color, giving everything a yellowed hue, making the antiquated 60's setting seem like an old magazine. It's a beautiful flick and it deserves your attention.


"This is the best bad plan we have." 

7) Argo

They say truth is stranger than fiction. This is exactly what they're talking about. If this never happened, the plot of Argo would be one of the silliest things I've ever heard. But, since it actually happened, it's number seven on my list.

Ben Affleck redeemed himself, and I want to keep emphasizing that because I feel like if I don't, the internet's going to forget and go back to Gigli jokes. Affleck furthers his filmography with another intense hyper-realism thrillers. This time around, he adds some satirical jabs at the Hollywood system. John Goodman and Alan Arkin give my favorite performances from the film, playing a pair of Hollywood insiders, adding a layer of depth and levity to the already meticulously structured story

The Iranian setting is equal parts fascinating, beautiful, strange, foreboding, and menacing. The film plays with cultural expectations and foreign discomfort. Everything is different and could possibly explode at any moment. Salvation is inches away, but full-fledged terror is only centimeters. The costuming and hair is very well-done, evoking the early 80s, but not resorting to everybody walking around with giant sideburns and leisure suits (only Bryan Cranston does that).

Argo had the potential to fail on different levels. It could be too apologetic. It could be tongue-in-cheek. It could be too violent and disturbing. It could be too controversial. People could forget that Ben Affleck redeemed himself. But everything turned out absolutely perfect. Argo was a hit, and goes into awards season a heavy favorite. If only we could make "Argo Fuck Yourself" a catch phrase.


"One may read this and think it's magic, but falling in love is an act of magic. So is writing."

6) Ruby Sparks 

Oscar Wilde said there were only two real tragedies in the world: Not getting what one wants, and getting it. Ruby Sparks is an examination of the latter. The title character, played by screenwriter Zoe Kazan, is the archetypical Manic Pixie Dream Girl; the idolized and idealized image of womanhood as seen through the eyes of writers. The bubbly, vivacious, outgoing, friendly, dreamy and beautiful girl everyone wants, and nobody can find. And for good reason; they don't exist. The film is an exploration of not only why a woman like that cannot exist, but why if she did exist, you don't deserve her.

Ruby Sparks is both hilarious and heartfelt. It paints love and romance not as abstract concepts, but definitive ideals. It seeks to break down the key components and analyze them. It's like discovering it all anew. It's also a must-watch for aspiring writers, not only championing the profession as a valid career choice, but showing what a typical day in such a profession may entail..

After doing some research, I've learned Kazan hates the term 'Manic Pixie Dream Girl,' feeling it to be sexist and derogatory. But I disagree. I feel the character itself is derogatory and diminutive, painting women not as dynamic, but MacGuffins in improbably conceived romances. And what Kazan has done is create a film exposing this unhealthy mindset, creating a one-dimensional MPDG out of necessity, gradually growing her into a normal person, then turning the concept on its head to show what kind of unhealthy male mindset would create and desire such a creation. It's Manic Pixploitation.



"The people behind this lack creativity and they've run out of ideas, so what they do now is just recycle shit from the past and hope that nobody will notice."

5) 21 Jump Street

One of the most pleasant surprises from 2012 was 21 Jump Street, a not-so-serious adaptation of the 80's cop show. It had a lot of things going against it. Most prominent, it was an adaptation of an 80's cop show. But low and behold, with a bang-up script and a dedicated cast, it turned into one heck of a highly regarded comedy and one of the most lauded adapted-from-a-TV-show movies of all time. Not there's much competition in that subgenre, but it's still an achievement.

The original series was a straight-up crime procedural. Converting it into a comedy was a genius decision, allowing the film to laugh at the absurd premise and gloss over some of the more improbable conditions such a scenario would necessitate. Toss in some manic energy, no-holds-barred physical comedy, social satire, and a number of stunts that would make Michael Bay proud, and it's the best comedy of the year.


"There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people, so when we needed them, they could fight the battles that we never could."

4) The Avengers

Earlier this year I made mention that 2012 had a very weak opening. By the end of June, I was afraid there weren't going to be any phenomenal circumstances which would unearth The Avengers from the top three. As much as I loved it, I have to admit I was wrong. Any other year, The Avengers would most certainly earn a top-three finish, but this year, it just had too much stiff competition.

The Avengers was a grand experiment by Marvel Studios, and one that paid out in spades. Have a big, interconnected universe where the various events and characters interact and affect each other, all culminating in a big battle royale that dwarfs the Nolan/Batman pictures.

Granted, not all the installments in the Marvelverse worked. The Hulk movies had problems. Iron Man 2 couldn't capture the same magic as its predecessor. Thor was just bad. But the important part is: the groundwork was laid. This diegetic movie universe now exists, and new characters can now be introduced to interact and improve upon it. For example, Hawkeye and Black Widow can't have their own movies, but they can appear in many others.

DC is using everything in its arsenal to keep its head above water, meanwhile Marvel has created its own universe. Plus, as soon as certain movie right licenses expire (Spider-Man, Fantastic Four and X-Men), it can become even more so intertwined and vast. Well done Avengers. Well done.


"Do you think we choose the times into which we are born? Or do we fit the times we are born into?"

3) Lincoln

Abraham Lincoln. Sixteenth President of the United States. Honest Abe. The Rail-Splitter. The Tycoon. The Great Emancipator. The Ancient One. Mister Penny Guy (unverified). Believed by many to be the greatest American citizen, and rumored at one point to be a vampire hunter. A subject of myth and legend in his own right, but also a cornerstone of American and world history. It would be no easy task to bring the mammoth man to life on the big screen, and would be even more difficult to do so well. Only a master of the craft like Steven Spielberg could do such a thing, and he knocks it out of the park. Lincoln is an honest yet glorious biopic that's not only historically accurate, but emotional, captivating and wonderful.

Lincoln (the film) focuses on Lincoln (the man) at the most tumultuous point of his career. The Civil War is raging, the nation is divided, his cabinet and fellow party members doubt his abilities to lead, his wife is emotionally wrecked, his son Robert is trying to enlist in the army, and his son Willie's death still haunts him. The only thing keeping him going is his resolve that he's doing the right thing, even if he has to beg, borrow and steal to get it done. Honest Abe indeed.

Daniel Day-Lewis gives the performance of his lifetimes. He gives the performance of several other lifetimes. He not only plays Lincoln, he becomes Lincoln. I am convinced somebody went back in time with a camera and taped the actual life and times of Abe Lincoln. My only question is, how long until some production company in the south commissions a retaliatory Jefferson Davis or Robert E Lee biopic?


"Fear. Belief. Love. Phenomena that determine the course of our lives. These forces begin long before we are born and continue after we perish."


 2) Cloud Atlas 

A historical drama about the slave trade in the 19th century. A star-crossed romance dissecting opportunism and inspiration. A political thriller concerning the rise of nuclear power in the 1970s. A societal farce on ageism. A cyberpunk adventure touting the power of one. A post-apocalyptic examination of faith and trust in times of fear. These are the six stories of Cloud Atlas, interwoven expertly to create one fantastic story about human nature, predacity and the status quo.

The problems I have with Cloud Atlas are everything people seemingly champion about it. The editing was good, not from a technical achievement standpoint, but a storytelling necessity standpoint. The score, which is a pivotal point in the film, is actually quite underwhelming. The make-up is good at parts, but at others, it's really bad (Hugo Weaving's Korean visage is slightly more convincing than a Michael Meyers mask). Concerning this last grievance, I have heard one critic hypothesize this was possibly intentional. We're not supposed to believe the rotating cast in their various incarnations; they're not supposed to disappear into their characters, but intentionally stand out to reinforce the theme of destiny and recurrence.

The cast is near perfect. Tom Hanks is great. Halle Berry is great. Jim Broadbent is great (but when isn't he?) Years from now when Jim Sturgess and Ben Whishaw are A-listers, we're going to look back on their performances nostalgically. Doona Bae delivers my favorite performance of the year.

Many fear the complicated structure of the film, to that I say: don't panic. You are techincally watching six different films at once, and it does seem like that throughout. But, if you're paying attention, it's actually quite simple to follow. All the stories intertwine like individual fibers of a cord, none more important than the other, all equally represented and representative of the whole.

In case you're wondering, my favorite storyline was actually Cavendish's (Britain, present day). Aside from my inexplicable fanboyism of Jim Broadbent, the story adds much needed levity to very heavy subject matter. Also, by setting it in the present, it makes the lofty themes much more personal, forcing several moments of introspection. My least favorite was Ewing's (Chatham Islands, 1850). The story was just a little predictable, and the revisionist depiction of the slave trade seemed a touch too on the nose. The claustrophobic setting of the ship's innards also clashed with the wildly vast landscapes of the other stories. Despite all the faults, there was so much good in Cloud Atlas, I could watch it again and again. After all, as the film insists, telling a story is often the catalyst needed to begin your own. What's my story? Well, we'll just have to wait and see.


"I'm sorry I let you get attacked by a werewolf and then ended the world."

1) Cabin in the Woods

Once again, it's my id-driven predilections that determine the number one spot. Once again, it goes to the film that provided the single most enjoyable cinema-going experience. And this year, that honor goes to Cabin in the Woods, the horror movie to end all horror movies. Literally.

The brain-child of Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard, Cabin in the Woods is a post-modern satire on the tired state of horror films. Why are they all so similar? Why do the heroes always fall into neat little archetypes? Why do they constantly make the same dumb mistakes over and over again? And most importantly, why, despite all of this, do movie-going audiences still care?

Cabin in the Woods works on three levels. The first level is the sinister operation, who unwilling offer a guiding hand, ushering forth every implausible scenario ever depicted in horror movies. Why go into the basement? Why ignore perfectly reasonable warnings? Why split up? Why have sex in strange, unfamiliar places at inopportune moments? Why? Because the operation wants you to. But who is the operation? Are they scientists? Businessmen? Government spooks? CCTV operators? Some strange combination of the above? Who are they, what are they doing, what are they controlling, and why are they so involved with five teenagers on a camping trip?

The second level is that of the experiment and its chosen participants. Teenagers do stupid things, and zombies come outta nowhere to wreck the party. Much mayhem, blood and slaughter ensue. It plays like a tired, forced horror film, because that's exactly what it is. It's nothing original, and it rushes itself, but out of plot necessity. This isn't a flaw, mind you, rather a typical example of the blase horror film they're dissecting. It's also fun to watch.

The third level. My god, that glorious third level. This is what makes the film worth seeing. When the smokescreen drops, and the second tier discovers and runs afoul of the first. The curtain is raised, the house lights are on, and you can see the magician's wires and mirrors. All hell breaks loose. Literally. No, I am not abusing the word literally. Any remotely minor horror fan: See. This. Film. The final twenty minutes of this movie cram in more sickening fun than a carnival ride which distributes complimentary motion sickness bags.

The sheer gall to call out an entire genre of movies, deconstuct it, then obliterate it entirely is a lofty goal, and Cabin in the Woods succeeds admirably. This goes beyond satire. It goes beyond spoof. It's full-on phoenix-rising-from-the-ashes. No spoilers, but I watched the "Elevator Scene" seventeen times in a row after it was made available online. I have no critical analysis of Cabin in the Woods, no interpretation on its place in culture, no observations on film as a whole. I just love the ever-loving crap out of this movie and recommend it with all my heart and soul like a jabbering fool. It will forever change the way I view horror flicks, and I want a damn coffee bong.


And now, the also-rans:
Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter: If you're going to do something balls-to-the-wall silly, have fun with it. Don't be so damn serious.
The Amazing Spider-Man:
Eh. Team Raimi.
Bernie: It's good to see Jack Black in a good movie, especially one that plays to his subtler strengths, but the film just needed a little more oomph.
Blue Like Jazz: A serious discussion on religion doesn't mean your film has to be as boring as dirt.
Brave: Spectacular landscapes, engaging characters, but a really uninspired story. Come back, Pixar! 
Chronicle: It was okay, but I am officially done with the found-footage style.
Crooked Arrows: A dime-a-dozen sports movie saved exclusively by an original setting.
The Dark Knight Rises: The weakest entry in the Nolan/Batman trilogy. Way too many contrivances and hand waves for me to accept.
Dark Shadows: Bad. Bad bad. It fails at horror, fails at romance, and fails at comedy. Why was Chloe Grace-Moretz a werewolf?!
Dredd: The Raid - Redemption, but sci-fi and stylized.
Django Unchained: It was Tarantino making a blaxploitation/western. It's exactly that.
The Five-Year Engagement: Started off strong, but fell into the same rut all romantic comedies fall into.
Flight: Neo-prohibitionist tripe. At least the crash scene was exciting.
Frankenweenie: See? Tim Burton's still capable of doing good... So why doesn't he?
Hitchcock:You know those dramas that promise an interesting story, then get really boring at the 40-minute mark because it derails itself with a boring romance subplot? Yeah, this is one of those.
The Hobbit Part One: I am very annoyed this was a three hour movie.
Hotel Transylvania: Adam Sandler in cartoon form is still Adam Sandler.
The Hunger Games: The film is better than the book. Terrible camera work. I want to slap whoever was responsible.
Jeff, Who Lives at Home: Ed Helms and Jason Segel finally together, and this is the script they chose? It plays out like a freshman film student's first draft.
Looper: This year's Drive. It was okay, but oh my god, shut up about it already. It wasn't the end-all, be-all of film expression.
Mansome: Zzzzzzzzzzzz (That is not my impression of an electric razor).
The Master: Stylistically fascinating, but dragged more than other Paul Thomas Anderson films.
Men in Black III: Garbage.
Mirror Mirror: The dwarfs were fun to watch, but everything else was just an exercise in patience. Why don't you make it more obvious you're filming on a soundstage?
Les Miserables: I've been waiting for a film adaptation of the musical. Thanks for delivering. I actually didn't mind Russell Crowe singing.
The Perks of Being a Wallflower: The 11th spot. It's actually pretty close to how I choose to remember my high school days. There were certain elements that seemed forcibly adapted from the book.
The Pirates! in an Adventure with International Titling Disagreements: The trailer promised me a frenetic Zucker-Abrahms-Zucker style comedy. It wasn't bad, but I was expecting much better. Mea Culpa.
Prometheus: The grand experiment to return the Alien franchise to its HR Giger origins fails miserably and laughably.
The Raid - Redemption: Like Dredd, but gritty and real.
Rock of Ages: Much better than people give it credit for, but stalls way too much in the second and third acts.
The Secret World of Arrietty: Just because the people are tiny doesn't mean the adventure needs to be.
Seeking a Friend for the End of the World: Such great potential, such wasted opportunity.
Seven Psychopaths: Less clever than it thinks its being.
Skyfall: Fantastic, promising much, delivering more.
Snow White and The Huntsman: The lesser of the Snow White adaptations, and that's saying something. It falls victim to my least favorite trope: All Fantasy is Tolkien. Snow White puts on a suit of armor and has a sword fight.
Wreck-It Ralph: Wildly imaginative and clever, but could have done much more with the premise than it dared. It seems like they're baiting a franchise, but I don't see it happening.