text:
[John Galt]
On the Personalities of the Whigs.
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine Vol. 10 No. 54 (September 1821) 217-21.
EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.
No. LIV. SEPTEMBER, 1821. Vol. X.
Familiar Epistles to Christopher North,
From an old Friend with a new Face.
Letter III.
On the Personalities of the Whigs,—and the Outcry against Maga.
My Dear Kit.
Before leaving England, I must have a few words with yourself. I do not understand why you submit thus tamely to the misrepresentations, not of foes, but of friends. That you should laugh at the outcry of those "poor, weak, and despised old" creatures the Whigs, and treat with contempt the savage whoop and howl of the Radicals, does not surprise me; but that you endure so patiently "that dreadful pother" about personalities, with which some of "those who should be ours" so effectually back the enemy, is, I confess, beyond my comprehension. It is full time that you should let these pluckless Tories know the truth; and that what their feeble and deluded senses have been taught to consider as personalities, are nothing more than the unavoidable effect of ridicule, cleverly and justly applied.
I wish also to set you and these faint-hearted gentry right in other respects. Those who call themselves the Tories, have but little merit in that universal exposure of Whig pretensions and practices, which has executed justice so completely on the party. As to the discomfiture of their literary expectants, you have fought the battle, especially in Edinburgh, where the reviewers have been driven from the field, and the Review itself sent a-begging among the drivellers of Cockaigne. But, with regard to the party in general, the merit of their degradation, after their own bankruptcy of character, is greatly due to Cobbet and the Radicals. It was his rotten eggs, and their brick-bats, which reduced them to the shivering and shattered plight that has rendered them now almost objects of compassion,—if compassion, or indeed any sentiment of pity, could possibly be felt towards fraternity which exulted at every occurrence of national distress, in our greatest peril, and triumphed at the miseries which they themselves so largely contributed to inflict on individuals. Still, however, though they have been hissed and hooted from common-halls and hustings,—though they have been pelted out of Palace-Yard, coughed down in Parliament, cuffed and kicked, and sent yelping and yelling from every place of seditious exhortation,— there are particular personages among them that verily have not yet received their reward. I allude to those who first set the example of personal attacks, and who now so bitterly weep and wail, and go about wringing their hands, at finding their own weapons turned with such energy against themselves. I allude particularly to the early writers in the Edinburgh Review, and to the correspondents of the Morning Chronicle.—Of course I do not mean to say, that Messrs Jeffrey and Perry are themselves dealers in detraction; but were I in your shoes, knowing what I know,—how these pretty behaved gentlemen turn aside their heads, and spread out their hands in horror and aversion at the very sight of the Magazine, I would "tickle their catastrophes,"—I would lay any eight volumes of "the blue and yellow calamity" under contribution, and take any four or five files of the Chronicle for the last thirty years, and with page, and day and date, dare them to match from your pages the base and merciless ribaldry with which these virulent journals have assailed every political opponent who, either by office or title-page, could be pointed out as an object of derision.
But "two blacks will never make a white," say your pluckless friends, those pouncet boxes of the Court, who affect such delicate feelings of honour,—such a skinless sensibility to every thing personal; "and, therefore, Mr North, we dislike the freedom you have taken with private characters. It is very wrong, and very coarse,—we cannot approve of you in that respect." O dear!—who the devil cares whether such feeble and ineffectual fractions of intellect and spirit as they are, either approve or disapprove of your avenging career? Let them he thankful that they are allowed to follow in the wake of your course; and let them know, that merely on account of their moral insignificance, they are permitted so to do. It is necessary, and indeed unavoidable, that to all parties
218 Familiar Epistle from an old Friend with a new Face
there should be attached a multitude of silly creatures. The Whigs have many such, and the Radicals out-number them a thousand fold; but neither the "Master Slenders" of the one, nor the "Bottoms" of the other, are in any degree so truly contemptible as a Tory of the Polonius kind, especially when he declaims about personalities. Why, the poor things themselves live by personalities,—there is not a neighbour's character or qualities unspared by their little malice. They cannot indeed sting like scorpions; but the fault is nature's that made them so harmless. They only defile what they can neither wound nor destroy. A Tory of this class, is indeed a being infinitely contemptible, even as a man. He is, or rather it is generally, about the age of three-score, with an endeavour to be youthy and elegant, an endeavour which its lean shanks and faultering joints partly assist. It has the smallest possible ideas on every subject of public opinion.—It shuns the adversaries of its party, as if they were hydras and chimeras.—It becomes nervous and irritable at the slightest indication of opposition to its sentiments with regard to matters of taste. In all its habits it is petty and puerile. Like Justice Shallow, it boasts of the imbecile pranks and brawls of its youth, and the revellers it would set in the stocks, or those who grow riotous with ale, instead of champaign and claret. Is it, Christopher, by such beings as this that you submit to be lectured? Up with your crutch, and knock him down. The fact is, that such creatures belong to no party; they have happened to attach themselves to yours, because they thought it the genteelest; for they have no conception of what is great or honourable, but only of what is genteel. Perhaps, however, your silence with respect to them, proceeds from your contempt for their influence and understandings? Be it so,—but then declare the fact. Do not allow it to be any longer imagined, that you are disposed to abate one jot of your wonted antipathy to pretension and insolence, on account of the cry which the Whigs make against your retaliation for their personalities. Above all, do not allow those feeble and shaking headed Tories to believe that you value their good or ill opinion one stiver. What indeed is the worth of their opinion at any time, but more especially in your case, when it is well known they are utterly ignorant of the true nature of the things at which they affect to be so disturbed? The nerveless creatures are afraid to look into your pages, which they strangely conceive spare neither the infirmities nor the appearance of age or sex, and of course what they say is as ridiculous as it is unfounded. Private personalities you have ever avoided; but to be accused of such paltry tattling, by those who practise nothing else, when you have so studiously confined yourself to public conduct and character, is perhaps one of the things to which, from the beginning, you considered yourself as necessarily exposed. But these poor souls are the deluded and unconscious tools of the Whigs, who know so well the effect of clamour and outcry; and who, from a sinister principle, never read any thing written against themselves, that they may be able, as it were, with a clear conscience, to declare with some shew of truth, but virtually in effect with falsehood, that the matter and manner of the attack is such, that it would be unworthy—honourable men—even to notice, far less to answer it.
Let me, however, not be misunderstood. I do not advise you to imitate the Whigs in abusing the talents and characters of your political adversaries, and, after you have provoked their resentment, to supplicate and implore the by-slanders to assist you in defending yourself. Nor would I at all recommend that you should drag into notoriety any of those poor genteel retainers of your own party, merely because they have been shocked at the fists and attitudes which you have sometimes shewn to the rabble rout of your promiscuous assailants,—I only wish that, in the first place, you would shew from the Whig writers, the sort of personalities in which they have themselves dealt for the last thirty years; and, in the second place, that you should contrast with their libellous and systematic misrepresentations, the temperance of the retribution you have administered.
I only wish you to compare the quiet progress of your own garden chair,— the gentle turns that you take among your flowers, raising here the modest and drooping blossom, and pruning there, with a discreet and skilful hand, the overgrown briar, that chokes the growth of useful herbs, and, with its
Familiar Epistle from an old Friend with a new Face 219
rank and noisome luxuriance, cumbers and exhausts the ground. In a word, to compare the progress of "The Magazine" with "The Review," where, as in a rattling and raging chariot, the whole genius of the Whigs, like a many headed Hindoo idol, careered for a time so triumphantly. From afar the periodical coming forth of this literary Jauggernaut was hailed with amazement and worship. The infidel votaries of philosophy, and taste, and "science, falsely so called," rushed like fanatics, and sacrificed themselves beneath the wheels. But its oracles and its predictions, in every instance falsified, gradually begot suspicions of the pretensions of the priesthood, whose tricks and devices were discovered through the veil and vapour of the incense, which the shallow, the heartless, and the interested burned in adulation of the god. A demand arose for the vouchers of their miraculous pretensions. It could not be answered. A clamorous multitude beset the temple. The servitors trembled and secretly betook themselves, one by one, to other avocations. The high-priest attempted more than once to fly the sanctuary, but the golden chain was as often strengthened to bind him faster than ever to the altar. At last the brazen doors were burst open, the profane vulgar rushed in, and beheld, with open-mouthed astonishment, that the divinity to which they had offered up the sacrifices of their understandings, and implored the acceptance of their hearts and heads, was in reality but a senseless image set up for sinister purposes, adorned and augmented for a political end, by many who were perfectly well aware of the mean and insignificant materials of which it had been constructed.
At the publication of the "Chaldee MS." the cunning spirit of the Whigs saw that perhaps, by a dextrous management of the affections and prejudices of the very class whom they had so reviled and insulted, the tables might he turned against you. They knew that among the friends of the Magazine were many highly respectable characters, persons of great private worth, who possessed by their virtues an extensive influence in society, and who, without any literary predilections, and uninformed with respect to the free and sportive humour of the age, entertained that profound and due veneration for the language and imagery of the Bible, which the friends of religion ever wish to cherish. The language and imagery of the "Chaldee MS." furnished the Whigs with an opportunity to irritate the pious feelings of this respectable class; and accordingly, while they were obliged to acknowledge the ability displayed in the article, they insinuated that it was conceived in a spirit of derogatory profaneness. This was mighty well on the part of those who had been for years sneering, not merely at the forms of devotional expression, but at religion itself. The bait, however, took; and immediately a number of those who would otherwise perhaps never have thought at all upon the subject, were seized with a pious horror, at the idea of the language of Scripture being perverted. This was not all;—in the "Chaldee MS." several descriptive touches of personal defects and infirmities had unfortunately been introduced. These were perhaps in some cases necessary, to make out characters which had no features or qualities by which they could be otherwise distinguished. The offence was harmless, and the jocular spirit in which the whole article was written, ought to have protected it from the charge of malice or ill nature. But the Whigs availed themselves of those few playful strictures on appearance, and still more vehemently than they could venture to do on the parody of Scripture language (for they were conscious of the liberties they had themselves taken with religion) and they declaimed against them, as examples of an unheard of licentiousness, just as if the world had never seen the Whig caricatures of the bodily peculiarities of some of the greatest men of the age. Thus, in two things of themselves really insignificant, the structure of the language in which the story of the "Chaldee MS." was told, and the incidental allusion to two or three personal peculiarities—a foundation was laid with one class of the friends of good order, to condemn the tendency of the whole Magazine, and with another, to blame the course it had chosen as ungentlemanly. But, now when the feelings thus fomented have subsided, it must be allowed that the "Chaldee MS." contains nothing to offend any principle, or excite any sentiment at variance with good-humoured hilarity and banter. This at the time the
Whigs perfectly well knew; but they saw in the Number which contained the "Chaldee MS." a mustering of strength against them, which in the fumes and intoxication of their own success, they never once apprehended had any existence. They felt that there was a spirit abroad, greater than the demon which they themselves served, and they were smitten with dismay, and trembled for the overthrow of his superiority. They trembled justly, for it has been accomplished.
Having succeeded in poisoning the minds of the pious with an idea of the profane character of a work, expressly set on foot to counteract their own infidel practices, and having also induced several meek gentlemanly minds to disapprove of those allusions to personal infirmities, which were in a great measure almost unavoidable, it was not difficult to increase the outcry against your personalities, and this was done as often as you ventured to question the learning or the abilities of the different public writers whom you were professionally required to notice. It was the privilege, forsooth, of the Edinburgh Review, the Morning Chronicle, and certain other publications after their kind, to treat with contumely the sentiments and the writings of the political opponents of their faction, but it was libel and slander when the same thing was done by others, and particularly so when it was done by you.
Not content with retaliating on the Whigs for their scandalous violation of the limits of fair literary criticism, you provoked another class of enemies. I do not mean the Radicals, who to a man are necessarily and naturally against you, but the obscene brood of Cockaigne; and yet what writers have ever been so personal as the Cockneys? How many of them are judicially convicted libellers? Look at all the varieties of their publications, from that paradise of dainty devices, the Examiner, down to Wooler's Gazette. When or where were ever such liberties taken with character?—and yet they too complain of your personalities.—Why do you permit this? Why do you not at once shew that your animadversions have been ever confined to those points in which individuals present themselves towards the public?
The rage, however, of the Whigs, the delusion into which they have betrayed better men, and the chattering spite of the Cockneys, have not been so detrimental to the fair and just character of your strictures, as the conduct of the timid Tories, who imagine that party controversies can be maintained without giving offence. They might as well expect the battles of war to be fought without wounds—A party controversy, such as you have embarked in, and in which they have always professed themselves to be auxiliaries, is a hostile conflict.—You are contending for an ascendancy over public opinion. The Whig writers have for a time pretended that they possessed it, and perhaps in some degree it may be said they did. Your object is to destroy their dominion, and to vindicate those venerable and constitutional principles, in politics, religion, and literature, which they have so strenuously endeavoured to subvert. But are you to be denied the use of ridicule and satire?—weapons which your adversaries have ever employed with great effect? The very idea is absurd, and in your situation impossible, for an important part of your duty consists in exposing pretensions; and can the mask be torn from the face of any species of hypocrisy without producing disagreeable feelings?—It is no less your duty to repress party arrogance, and mortify factious pride. Can this be done without disturbing the self-complacency of certain individuals remarkable for both, and who are your declared and most virulent enemies? Why, then, do you permit the cowardly malcontents of your own side still to rank themselves with you, although they are constantly in the habit of wondering that you should employ the means with which you have been invested by God and nature, for the overthrow of your own and of their adversaries? Perhaps, however, you think these fastidious friends too numerous to be posted individually, or that it would be bad taste to post any of them.—I shall not question the correctness of the opinion; but, describe the class,—let us know what they are,—give them a name,—paint their lineaments,—point them out to the scorn of all parties, till the very children in the streets are able to say, "There goes one of the pluckless Tories!—Look at the poor sneaking sordid creature, how it crawls
in silk stockings, with its meagre tottering limbs, to solicit some place or pension from the very masters that it hesitates to support in the most necessary of all their great undertakings—the chastisement of invidious and personal foes." Till you do this, you have done but half your duty,—till you have convinced those who affect to be the friends of British principles, that it is an essential part of their own obligations, to deride the subverters of these principles, you have failed in some degree to fulfil one of the noblest objects of your original design.
Before concluding, I would also remind you of another heavy charge under which you allow your fame to suffer. You are accused of maliciously exposing names to the public, that were almost never heard of beyond the narrow bounds of their domestic circles, and of making free with private characters in the most offensive and impertinent manner. The accusation is undoubtedly entirely false; but it is made, and you ought to vindicate yourself. I am well aware, that you have touched with your crutch the elbows of a few borough demagogues, and that you have mode some of the Radicals and Whiglets, both of Glasgow and Edinburgh, feel, that if they pursue the same course as their masters in the metropolis, they must expect to participate in their punishment. But are you to endure, that this is to be called dragging private persons before the public, to the great injury of their comfort in life? I should be glad, indeed, that you would tell me, if the fellow who gets up after dinner in a tavern, and shews the confusion of his head, and the badness of his grammar, to a numerous assemblage of equal worthies, is not quite as much a public man, as the solitary student, who meekly and diffidently publishes his little lucubrations; and is such a fellow to be allowed, with impunity, to vent his spleen and personalities unrebuked, merely because he has not actually, in his own handwriting, sent his crude and immethodicol nonsense to the newspapers, which report the proceedings? It is very well for demagogues of this description to cry out at the switching you have occasionally given them, and it is natural that their associates, who have not yet spoken at these periodical orgies, should also endeavour to raise the town against you, in order to secure impunity for their own meditated exploits of the tongue. But is it for you to endure their scurrility, and give no explanation to the world of the motives and characters of those sort of private persons who affect to be so mightily aggrieved?
You are also charged with making free with persons truly, in the emphatical sense of the term, private; men who never trouble themselves either with literature, politics, or Whig dinners, but perform the duties of their profession and station with prudence, integrity, and care. Is not this a lie? and yet you allow it to circulate uncontradicted—Why do you not compel the slanderers to shew one single instance in which you have ever done so? You have certainly mentioned private individuals of the description alluded to, and spoken of their peculiarities; but, in every instance, with good humour, or in a style which implied praise, though expressed as banter; and this is a freedom that authors in every age have taken with their personal friends. Some of the happiest effusions of the greatest wits have been harmless familiarities with the characters of those whom they most esteemed; and are you, Kit, to be denied the privilege of cracking a joke with your cousins and cronies? I have heard, indeed, that all have not endured your humour so happily as "our fat friend," the Doctor; but I do believe, that in every case where offence has been taken, it will be found that the party who supposed himself offended, was in the first instance amused with your jibes; and that he never imagined any malice in your jocularity till he had been wrought upon by some disturbed spirit, infected with the Whig or Radical distemper. But I must make an end; and with the best wishes for the continuation of all that vigour, and that particular kind of "ill nature," which has given so much offence to the arrogant, the vain, and the petulant, I remain truly your
Old Friend with a new Face.
Gordon's Hotel, Albemarle Street,
12th September, 1821.
William Cobbett [Peter Porcupine] (1763-1835) English journalist and populist social critic; author of Rural Rides (1829).
Francis Jeffrey, Lord Jeffrey (1773-1850) Scottish barrister, Whig MP, and co-founder and editor of the Edinburgh Review (1802-29). As a reviewer he was the implacable foe of the Lake School of poetry.
James Perry (1756-1821) Whig journalist; founder and editor of the European Magazine (1782), editor of the Morning Chronicle (1790-1821).
John Wilson [Christopher North] (1785-1854) Scottish poet and Tory essayist, the chief writer for the "Noctes Ambrosianae" in Blackwood's Magazine and professor of moral philosophy at Edinburgh University (1820).
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine. (1817-1980). Begun as the Edinburgh Monthly Magazine, Blackwood's assumed the name of its proprietor, William Blackwood after the sixth number. Blackwood was the nominal editor until 1834.
The Edinburgh Review, or Critical Journal. (1802-1929). Founded by Francis Jeffery, Sydney Smith, and Henry Brougham, the Edinburgh Review was for decades a principal organ of Whig opinion in Britain.
The Examiner. (1808-1881). Founded by John and Leigh Hunt, this weekly paper divided its attention between literary matters and radical politics; William Hazlitt was among its regular contributors.
Morning Chronicle. (1769-1862). James Perry was proprietor of this London daily newspaper from 1789-1821; among its many notable poetical contributors were Coleridge, Southey, Lamb, Rogers, and Campbell.
Wooler's British Gazette. (1819-1823). A weekly newspaper edited in Manchester by T. J. Wooler.
James Hogg [The Ettrick Shepherd] (1770-1835) "Chaldee Manuscript" in Blackwood's Magazine. Vol. 2 No. 12 (October 1817): 89-96. A satirical allegory on the Edinburgh Whigs that originated with Hogg and was printed in Blackwood's Magazine for October 1817; it was afterwards suppressed.
INFORMATION FROM TEI HEADER
Source Description:
Author: [John Galt]
Title: "On the Personalities of the Whigs" in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine. Vol. 10 No. 54 (September 1821): 217-21.
Electronic Edition:
Series: Lord Byron and his Times: http://lordbyron.org
Encoding Description: Any dashes occurring in line breaks have been removed. Obvious and unambiguous compositors' errors have been silently corrected.
Markup and editing by: David Hill Radcliffe
Completed November 2009
Publication Statement:
Publisher: Center for Applied Technologies in the Humanities, Virginia Tech
Availability: Published under Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License


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Tag Archives: The Ghost Writer
My Top 100 Films of the Decade
Below is a list of my 100 favorite feature films of the decade. I've linked to my original reviews where applicable and added some new commentary not available elsewhere. The top 25 are presented in order of preference. The 75 runners-up are presented alphabetically. Enjoy!
Countdown of the Top 25:
25. (tie) Li'l Quinquin / CoinCoin and the Extra Humans (Bruno Dumont, France, 2014/2018)
L'Humanite aside, I didn't really become interested in misery-specialist Dumont until the inauguration of his surprising, new "wacky period" with Li'l Quinquin in 2014. And I love that he both doubled down on the slapstick humor and introduced a batshit-crazy supernatural element for the brilliant 2018 sequel. I hope there are more misadventures involving Van der Weyden and Carpentier, the least competent and funniest buddy cop duo in film history, to come.
24. The Mule (Clint Eastwood, USA, 2018)
88-year-old Clint Eastwood, in what is likely his last outing as both director and star, created a work of infinite moral complexity with 2018's The Mule – a film as deeply moving as it is goofy, told with a visual economy worthy of comparison to late John Ford.
23. Right Now, Wrong Then (Hong Sang-Soo, S. Korea, 2016)
"By having the same chance meeting play out in two separate realities, Hong offers a whimsical, droll and ultimately profound metaphysical inquiry into the nature of communication. He asks viewers to question how minor variations in word choice and intonation of speech can lead to different outcomes. It's fun to watch — and even more fun to think about afterwards." Time Out Chicago capsule here.
22. The Turin Horse (Bela Tarr/Agnes Hranitzky, Hungary, 2011)
"Tarr is sometimes unfairly labelled an austere 'miserabilist' (let us not forget that Satantango actually contains a fart joke) and there is a vein of mordant deadpan humor running through this movie that did not elude the packed house I saw it with. Eliciting the most chuckles was a scene where the cabman gives a curt response to a long-winded and pretentious monologue by a visiting neighbor, which mirrors Tarr's own responses to those who attempt to analyze his work." White City Cinema capsule here.
21. The Social Network (David Fincher, USA, 2010)
"The Social Network uses dark, lush digital images (the kind that only Fincher seems able to capture), wall-to-wall dialogue, hyperkinetic editing and a discordant techno score to paint a portrait of America in the internet age that's as frightening as it is beautiful." Full White City Cinema review here.
20. Happy Hour (Ryusuke Hamaguchi, Japan, 2015)
"The story of four 37-year-old female friends living in Kobe who are given occasion to re-evaluate their personal and professional lives after they spend the night together at a spa/hot-spring resort in a town nearby (think GIRLS TRIP as directed by Yasujiro Ozu). This quiet, absorbing dramedy is written, directed and acted to perfection and its moment-to-moment narrative unpredictability belies a rigorous structural ingenuity, which only becomes obvious in hindsight." Cine-File capsule here.
19. Norte, the End of History (Lav Diaz, Philippines, 2013)
"By having Dostoevsky's themes of crime, punishment and redemption apply to three characters instead of one, Diaz retains the Russian author's trademark first-person psychological intensity while also offering a panoramic view of society that more closely resembles that of Count Tolstoy." White City Cinema capsule here.
18. The Ghost Writer (Roman Polanski, UK/Germany/France, 2010)
"The Ghost Writer is a query into the dark heart of our new global society and how the major players on that stage use, betray, victimize and discard one another." White City Cinema capsule here.
17. Bitter Money (Wang Bing, China, 2016)
It's tempting to call this incredible documentary a non-fiction analog to Jia Zhangke's portraits of modern China in that it shows how the increasing privatization of China's economy sews violence in the hearts and minds of ordinary Chinese citizens. But no narrative filmmaker, including Jia, could've staged something as disturbing as the epic scene, captured in a single take with panning camera, in which a husband angrily rebuffs his tenacious wife's demands for money inside of the shop they co-own.
16. The Irishman (Martin Scorsese, USA, 2019)
Paul Schrader recently asked on Facebook if The Irishman was "the Wild Bunch of gangster movies." I think it would be truer to say that it's the Man Who Shot Liberty Valance of gangster movies. Not only does it feel like an elegy for the entire genre, the fact that viewers are always keenly aware of the elderly age of the lead actors even when playing young-to-middle-aged men (more apparent to me through their physical movements than the much-talked about "de-aging" CGI, which I forgot about pretty quickly) adds an extra layer of poignance to this memory-piece par excellence – in much the same way that Liberty Valance achieves a Brechtian sublimity precisely because John Wayne and Jimmy Stewart are "too old" to play the younger versions of their characters.
15. Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Thailand, 2010)
"Uncle Boonmee is a masterful tone poem that expands on the spiritual themes of Joe's earlier work to encompass a graceful, feature-length meditation on dying and death. I emerged from the theater as relaxed and refreshed as I typically feel after watching a film by Yasujiro Ozu." White City Cinema capsule here.
14. Vitalina Varela (Pedro Costa, Portugal, 2019)
Pedro Costa has been making films about African immigrants in Portugal for decades but the rise of right-wing nationalism and anti-immigration rhetoric across the globe in recent years has made his project take on a newfound sense of urgency. Out of all the films I saw in 2019, this dark, challenging and exquisitely beautiful work of art is the one that best exemplifies what I most hope for every time I go to the movies: an authentic religious experience. My interview with Pedro at Cine-File here.
13. Holy Motors (Leos Carax, France, 2012)
"In this most kaleidoscopic of films, Carax frequently intertwines his feeling for beauty with a singularly pungent melancholy and, far from coming off like the novelty it might have in lesser hands, it ends up packing an emotional wallop." Full White City Cinema review here.
12. Life Without Principle (Johnnie To/Wai Ka-Fai, Hong Kong, 2011)
"'Expect the unexpected' might as well be the motto for To's entire career, for no other director of the past quarter century has done so much to reinvigorate genre filmmaking by so consistently pushing genre conventions in as many surprising, intelligent and highly personal directions." Full White City Cinema review here.
11. Inherent Vice (Paul Thomas Anderson, USA, 2014)
"What's remarkable about Inherent Vice is the way Anderson has been able to remain extremely faithful to Thomas Pynchon's novel while also creating something that feels as deeply personal as his other work." White City Cinema capsule here.
10. Almayer's Folly (Chantal Akerman, Belgium/France, 2011)
Chantal Akerman's final narrative feature transposes Joseph Conrad's 1895 debut novel to 1950s Malaysia, turning it into a contemporary rumination on colonialism and racism every bit as radical and breathtaking as her brilliant re-imagining of Proust in 2000's La Captive. The use of Dean Martin's "Sway" is unforgettable.
9. Mysteries of Lisbon (Raul Ruiz, Portugal, 2010)
"This four-and-a-half hour distillation of a six-hour made-for-television miniseries is the most fitting swan song for Ruiz that one could imagine: an adaptation of a 19th-century novel about a fourteen-year old orphan whose investigation into his origins opens up a Pandora's box of stories (and stories-within-stories) that make it feel like Ruiz's magnum opus." White City Cinema capsule here.
8. A Touch of Sin (Jia Zhangke, China, 2013)
"This angry, provocative, disturbing and beautiful anthology film, consisting of four loosely linked vignettes, represents a triumphant return to narrative filmmaking for Jia, the most important member of the Chinese film industry's 'sixth generation.'" Full White City Cinema review here.
7. The Strange Case of Angelica (Manoel de Oliveira, Portugal, 2010)
"This is full of the director's usual digressions on science, art and history but it also features a new twist in a number of charming fantasy sequences involving CGI that, appropriately for someone who began working in the silent era, recall nothing so much as the primitive 'illusionism' of Georges Melies. A beautiful, complex, deeply spiritual and essential film." White City Cinema capsule here.
6. Zama (Lucrecia Martel, Argentina, 2017)
Lucrecia Martel confronts colonialism in 18th-century Argentina by focusing on an "unexceptional man," and turns viewers into aliens in the process. My interview with the director at Time Out Chicago here.
5. Boyhood (Richard Linklater, USA, 2014)
"Boyhood's central conceit, which allows Linklater the uncanny ability to capture the ebb and flow of life as it is experienced over an extended period of time, also dovetails nicely with his chief strengths as a writer and director, namely his sincerity and generosity of spirit." Full White City Cinema review here.
4. The Assassin (Hou Hsiao-Hsien, Taiwan, 2015)
"The substance of the film is to be found in the God-level mise-en-scene — where characters converse on fog-enshrouded mountaintops and behind the billowing silk curtains of exquisite, candle-lit interiors. This amazing recreation of the crumbling Tang Dynasty proves to be the most ideal backdrop imaginable for what Hou posits as Nie's universal and timeless dilemma: should she obey her sense of professional duty or the desires of her heart? The result is a meditation on violence and morality that would make an excellent double bill with Clint Eastwood's Unforgiven; Nie chooses her destiny and then, like a character from a folk tale, vanishes back into the pages of history." Time Out Chicago capsule here.
3. Certified Copy (Abbas Kiarostami, France/Italy, 2010)
"I've heard Abbas Kiarostami's latest masterpiece described as both a comedy and a metaphysical horror film. Certified Copy, which seems to be both a curve ball and a true-to-form puzzle film from the master, is great enough and slippery enough to accommodate both descriptions simultaneously." White City Cinema capsule here.
2. Goodbye to Language (Jean-Luc Godard, France/Switzerland, 2014)
"Godard's poetic use of 3-D in GOODBYE TO LANGUAGE, the best such use of the technology in any movie I've seen, puts this groundbreaking work in the class of his (and the cinema's) great achievements." Cine-File capsule here.
1. Twin Peaks: The Return (David Lynch, USA, 2017)
Is it a movie? Is it T.V.? What year is this? If Twin Peaks should be considered a film, it's not because it "transcends" the medium of television (whatever that means) but rather because it was written, financed, shot and edited the way that movies are and other serialized T.V. shows are not (i.e., all of it was co-written and directed by the same person based on a 500+ page script with no regard for how it would be broken up into separate "parts" until post-production began). Regardless of what you call it, the bottom line is that the latest iteration of Twin Peaks is David Lynch's magnum opus — a career-defining work made on the largest canvas that he's ever had to work with that summarizes everything he's done before while simultaneously also striking out in bold new directions. I wrote a lot about Twin Peaks in 2017, the most substantial piece being one where I discussed how Lynch and co-creator Mark Frost use western movie tropes to make some surprisingly trenchant political points about life in America today. You can read that here.
The 75 Runners-Up (Alphabetical by Title):
13 Assassins (Miike, Japan, 2010)
About Time (Curtis, UK, 2013)
Aquarius (Mendonca, Brazil, 2016)
Atlantics (Diop, Senegal, 2019)
Before Midnight (Linklater, USA/Greece, 2013)
Black Mother (Allah, USA/Jamaica, 2018)
Brooklyn (Crowley, UK/USA, 2015)
Burning (Lee, S. Korea, 2018)
Chevalier (Tsangari, Greece, 2015)
Computer Chess (Bujalski, USA, 2013)
A Dangerous Method (Cronenberg, UK/Germany, 2011)
The Day He Arrives (Hong, S. Korea, 2011)
The Death of Louis XIV (Serra, France, 2016)
Despite the Night (Grandrieux, France, 2015)
Dormant Beauty (Bellocchio, Italy, 2011)
Elle (Verhoeven, France, 2016)
Felicite (Gomis, Senegal, 2017)
First Reformed (Schrader, USA, 2018)
The Forbidden Room (Maddin/Johnson, Canada, 2015)
Good Time (Safdie/Safdie, USA, 2017)
The Grandmaster (Wong, Hong Kong/China, 2013)
Hard to Be a God (German, Russia, 2015)
A Hidden Life (Malick, USA/Germany, 2019)
High Life (Denis, France, 2018)
Horse Money (Costa, Portugal, 2014)
I Was at Home, But… (Schanelec, Germany, 2019)
The Image Book (Godard, France, 2018)
In the Shadow of Women (Garrel, France, 2015)
In the Shadows (Arslan, Germany, 2010)
Inside Llewyn Davis (Coen/Coen, USA, 2013)
Leviathan (Castaing-Taylor/Paravel, USA, 2012)
Life of Riley (Resnais, France, 2014)
Like Someone in Love (Kiarostami, Japan/Iran, 2012)
Long Day's Journey Into Night (Bi, China, 2018)
The Lost City of Z (Gray, USA/UK, 2017)
Love & Friendship (Stillman, USA/UK, 2016)
Mad Max: Fury Road (Miller, Australia/USA, 2015)
Madeline's Madeline (Decker, USA, 2018)
Magical Girl (Vermut, Spain, 2014)
Mr. Turner (Leigh, UK, 2014)
No Home Movie (Akerman, Belgium, 2016)
Nocturama (Bonello, France, 2016)
Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (Ceylan, Turkey, 2011)
The Other Side of Hope (Kaurismaki, Finland, 2017)
Pain and Glory (Almodovar, Spain, 2019)
Pasolini (Ferrara, Italy/USA, 2014)
Phantom Thread (Anderson, USA/UK, 2017)
Phoenix (Petzold, Germany, 2014)
A Quiet Passion (Davies, UK/USA, 2016)
Resident Evil: Retribution (Anderson, Germany/Canada/UK/USA, 2012)
Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story (Scorsese, USA, 2019)
Rules Don't Apply (Beatty, USA, 2016)
The Skin I Live In (Almodovar, Spain, 2011)
Something in the Air (Assayas, France, 2012)
The Souvenir (Hogg, UK, 2019)
Spring Breakers (Korine, USA, 2012)
The Strange Little Cat (Zurcher, 2013)
Stranger By the Lake (Guiraudie, France, 2013)
Stray Dogs (Tsai, Taiwan, 2013)
The Tale of the Princess Kaguya (Takahata, Japan, 2013)
Taxi (Panahi, Iran, 2015)
This Is Not a Film (Panahi, Iran, 2011)
Three Sisters (Wang, China, 2012)
Timbuktu (Sissako, Mauritania, 2014)
Toni Erdmann (Ade, Germany, 2016)
The Treasure (Porumboiu, Romania, 2015)
Twenty Cigarettes (Benning, USA, 2011)
Uncut Gems (Safdie/Safdie, USA, 2019)
Under the Skin (Glazer, UK, 2013)
Upstream Color (Carruth, USA, 2013)
The Wailing (Na, S. Korea, 2016)
Welcome to New York (Ferrara, USA/France, 2014)
The Wind Rises (Miyazaki, Japan, 2014)
The Wonders (Rohrwacher, Italy, 2014)
Zero Dark Thirty (Bigelow, USA, 2013)
10 Comments | tags: A Touch of Sin, Abbas Kiarostami, Agnes Hranitzky, Almayer's Folly, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Bela Tarr, Bitter Money, Boyhood, Bruno Dumont, Certified Copy, Chantal Akerman, Clint Eastwood, CoinCoin and the Extra Humans, David Fincher, David Lynch, Goodbye to Language, Happy Hour, Holy Motors, Hong Sang-Soo, Hou Hsiao-Hsien, Inherent Vice, Jean-Luc Godard, Jia Zhang-Ke, Johnnie To, Lav Diaz, Leos Carax, Li'l Quinquin, Life Without Principle, Lucrecia Martel, Manoel de Oliveira, Martin Scorsese, Mysteries of Lisbon, Norte the End of History, Paul Thomas Anderson, Pedro Costa, Raul Ruiz, Richard Linklater, Right Now Wrong Then, Roman Polanski, Ryusuke Hamaguchi, The Assassin, The Ghost Writer, The Irishman, The Mule, The Social Network, The Strange Case of Angelica, The Turin Horse, Twin Peaks, Twin Peaks: The Return, Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, Vitalina Varela, Wai Ka-Fai, Wang Bing, Zama | posted in All Best of Lists
Top 100 Films of the Decade, pt. 4 (#25 – #1): A Contest
Here is the entire list of my 100 favorite movies of the past five years. I have provided not only images but also capsule reviews for the top 25, some of which I wrote exclusively for this post. Don't forget to let me know how many you've seen for a chance to win dinner and a movie on me and/or a copy of my book Flickering Empire.
UPDATE: The winners are Jake Cole, Daniel Nava and Dan Kieckhefer, all of whom have been notified via e-mail. Thanks for playing, everybody. We'll do it again in five more years!
The Runners-Up (100-26)
100. Hugo (Scorsese, USA, 2011) – 8.1
99. The Rover (Michod, Australia, 2014) – 8.1
98. Marley (Macdonald, USA/UK, 2012) – 8.1
97. We are the Best! (Moodysson, Sweden, 2013) – 8.2
96. Our Children (Lafosse, Belgium, 2012) – 8.2
95. Oslo, August 31st (Trier, Norway, 2011) – 8.2
94. Le Havre (Kaurismaki, France/Finland, 2011) – 8.2
93. White Material (Denis, France/Cameroon, 2010) – 8.2
92. Laurence Anyways (Dolan, Canada, 2012) – 8.2
91. Land Ho! (Katz/Stephens, USA/Iceland, 2014) – 8.2
90. The Day He Arrives (Hong, S. Korea, 2011) – 8.2
89. Citizenfour (Poitras, USA/Germany, 2014) – 8.3
88. The World's End (Wright, UK, 2013) – 8.3
87. Pretty Butterflies (Mereu, Italy, 2012) – 8.3
86. Spring Breakers (Korine, USA, 2012) – 8.3
85. Viola (Pineiro, Argentina, 2012) – 8.3
84. Prometheus (Scott, USA, 2012) – 8.3
83. Carlos (Assayas, France, 2010) – 8.3
82. Listen Up Philip (Perry, USA, 2014) – 8.4
81. Locke (Knight, UK, 2013) – 8.4
80. Snowpiercer (Bong, S. Korea, 2013) – 8.4
79. The Iron Ministry (Sniadecki, USA/China, 2014) – 8.4
78. The Grand Budapest Hotel (Anderson, USA, 2014) – 8.4
77. Bird People (Ferran, France, 2014) – 8.4
76. 13 Assassins (Miike, Japan, 2010) – 8.4
75. Frances Ha (Baumbach, USA, 2012) – 8.5
74. Road to Nowhere (Hellman, USA, 2010) – 8.5
73. Clouds of Sils Maria (Assayas, France, 2014) – 8.5
72. Midnight in Paris (Allen, USA/France, 2011) – 8.5
71. Gloria (Lelio, Chile, 2013) – 8.5
70. Margaret (Lonergan, USA/UK, 2011) – 8.6
69. Aita (de Orbe, Spain, 2010) – 8.6
68. The Hunter (Pitts, Iran, 2010) – 8.6
67. Drug War (To, Hong Kong/China, 2012) – 8.6
66. Barbara (Petzold, Germany, 2012) – 8.6
65. The Comedy (Alverson, USA, 2012) – 8.7
64. Jimmy P. (Desplechin, France/USA, 2013) – 8.7
63. Force Majeure (Ostlund, Sweden, 2014) – 8.7
62. The Blue Room (Amalric, France, 2014) – 8.7
61. Cosmopolis (Cronenberg, Canada/Germany, 2012) – 8.7
60. Leviathan (Zvyagintsev, Russia, 2014) – 8.7
59. The Wolf of Wall Street (Scorsese, USA, 2013) – 8.8
58. Welcome to New York (Ferrara, USA/France, 2014) – 8.8
57. Exhibition (Hogg, UK, 2013) – 8.8
56. House of Pleasures (Bonello, France, 2011) – 8.8
55. Winter Sleep (Ceylan, Turkey, 2014) – 8.8
54. Poetry (Lee, S. Korea, 2010) – 8.9
53. Bernie (Linklater, USA, 2011) – 8.9
52. Upstream Color (Carruth, USA, 2013) – 8.9
51. You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet (Resnais, France, 2012) – 8.9
50. Inside Llewyn Davis (Coen/Coen, USA, 2013) – 8.9
49. The Grandmaster (Wong, Hong Kong/China, 2013) – 8.9
48. Twenty Cigarettes (Benning, USA, 2011) – 9.0
47. Nymphomaniac (Von Trier, Denmark/UK, 2013) – 9.0
46. The Tale of the Princess Kaguya (Takahata, Japan, 2013) – 9.0
45. J. Edgar (Eastwood, USA, 2011) – 9.0
44. Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (Weerasethakul, Thailand, 2010) – 9.0
43. Dormant Beauty (Bellocchio, Italy, 2012) – 9.1
42. Stray Dogs (Tsai, Taiwan, 2013) – 9.1
41. A Spell to Ward Off the Darkness (Rivers/Russell, Estonia, 2013) – 9.1
40. Mr. Turner (Leigh, UK, 2014) – 9.1
39. The Skin I Live In (Almodovar, Spain, 2011) – 9.1
38. The Master (Anderson, USA, 2012) – 9.2
37. Bastards (Denis, France, 2013) – 9.2
36. The Babadook (Kent, Australia, 2014) – 9.2
35. Computer Chess (Bujalski, USA, 2013) – 9.2
34. Leviathan (Castaing-Taylor/Paravel, USA, 2012) – 9.2
33. A Dangerous Method (Cronenberg, Canada/Germany, 2011) – 9.3
32. Neighboring Sounds (Mendonca, Brazil, 2012) – 9.3
31. Like Someone in Love (Kiarostami, Iran/Japan, 2012) – 9.3
30. Film Socialisme (Godard, France, 2010) – 9.3
29. Jealousy (Garrel, France, 2013) – 9.4
28. The Immigrant (Gray, USA, 2013) – 9.4
27. The Strange Little Cat (Zurcher, Germany, 2013) – 9.4
26. Before Midnight (Linklater, USA/Greece, 2013) – 9.4
The Top 25:
25. The Wind Rises (Miyazaki, Japan, 2013) – 9.5
Legendary animator Hayao Miyazaki brought down the curtain on his estimable career when he announced that The Wind Rises, a biopic of aeronautical engineer Jiro Horikoshi and his first film aimed squarely at an adult audience, would also be his last. As seen by Miyazaki, Jiro's life plays out against the moving backdrop of 20th century Japanese history, including such key events as the 1923 Kanto earthquake, the tuberculosis epidemic (represented by Jiro's doomed romance with his tubercular wife Nahoko) and, of course, World War II. This latter aspect engendered controversy when some among the left in Japan condemned Miyazaki's refusal to condemn Jiro for designing fighter planes during the war (though the fact that the film simultaneously alienated Japanese conservatives for being "anti-Japanese" is surely an indication that he was doing something right). Miyazaki instead chooses to portray Jiro as an apolitical dreamer caught in the jaws of history; the way the character's fantasy life is placed on the same plane as reality — as evidenced by his repeated encounters with his hero, a famous Italian engineer — results in something mature, beautiful and profound, and adds up to a kind of self-portrait on the part of the director. Also, if you want to know why good old-fashioned hand-drawn animation feels more personal than its digital counterpart, look no further than here.
24. This Is Not a Film (Panahi/Mirtahmasb, Iran, 2011) – 9.5
Chris Marker concludes his extraordinary 1993 documentary The Last Bolshevik by noting that, in the silent era, Russian director Alexander Medvedkin cried the first time he spliced two shots together and saw the result run through a motion picture projector. Marker then poignantly adds "Nowadays television floods the whole world with senseless images and nobody cries." The antiquated notion of a movie inspiring someone to cry — not just over its content but due to the miracle of its construction — is unexpectedly resurrected in Jafar Panahi's lo-fi-by-necessity This Is Not a Film. There was nothing in any film to first play Chicago in 2012 more moving or more profound than the scene where Panahi, under house arrest, concludes a lengthy description of his proposed next movie, one that he will probably never be able to make, by asking, "If we could tell a film, then why make a film?" There are tears of frustration in his eyes when he asks this question. Against all odds, This Is Not a Film ends up triumphantly providing the answer by refusing to exist as something that "can be told." See it and weep for yourself. Full review here.
23. Timbuktu (Sissako, Mauritania, 2014) – 9.5
Mauritanian filmmaker Abderrahmane Sissako follows up Bamako, his great 2006 indictment of the World Bank and western capitalism, with an equally damning indictment of third-world religious extremism. This lightning-in-a-bottle masterpiece, based on real events that occurred in 2012 but which seem even more prescient following the rise of ISIS, concerns the occupation of the Malian city of Timbuktu by militant Islamist rebels. Sissako's eye-opening film intertwines several narratives, all of which dramatize the clash between foreign "jihadists" and the moderate Muslim natives of Mali, most prominent among them the story of a cattle farmer (Ibrahim Ahmed) whose wife is coveted by the region's new extremist ruler. Like last year's A Touch of Sin, this vital movie offers a keyhole through which viewers can peer into an authentic dramatization of pressing global issues that goes way beyond mere news headlines. What really elevates Timbuktu to the status of essential viewing, however, is the way Sissako brings to his story the point of view of poetry — most evident in a stunningly composed scene of conflict between the cattle farmer and a fisherman, and an exquisitely lovely montage sequence involving a soccer match played without a ball. More here.
22. The Ghost Writer (Polanski, UK/Germany, 2010) – 9.5
With this, his 19th feature film, Roman Polanski earned the dubious distinction of becoming the first director to supervise post-production of a major motion picture from jail. Unfortunately, the brouhaha surrounding l'affaire Polanski overshadowed this superb return to form, a meticulously crafted political thriller. Comparisons between The Ghost Writer and Martin Scorsese's Shutter Island are instructive, as both are influenced by Alfred Hitchcock but in radically different ways; Scorsese is the modernist, Polanski the classicist. In Scorsese's film, every aspect of the movie is aggressively stylized as a way for the director to comment on the subject matter (expressive camera movements, bold colors, intentionally fake-looking digital backdrops, crazy editing rhythms). In Polanski's film, the visual components are just as aesthetically developed but are less self-conscious and more pressed to the service of, not really the story per se, but more what I would call Polanski's themes; this is most obvious in Polanski's rigorous color scheme (in particular the suppression of red) and the set design of Pierce Brosnan's beach-front home, which is best described as a modern-art nightmare. Both movies finally aren't about "story" at all; Shutter Island centers on the question of whether violence is inherent in human nature. The Ghost Writer is a query into the dark heart of our new global society and how the major players on that stage use, betray, victimize and discard one another.
21. The Turin Horse (Tarr/Hranitzky, Hungary, 2011) – 9.5
I'm no expert on Hungarian director Bela Tarr, who announced this would be his final film, but from the handful of his movies I've seen this strikes me as one of the best and most essential. The Turin Horse begins with a narrator recounting the anecdote about Nietzsche going mad shortly after witnessing a horse being flogged in Italy. The film is a fictionalized version of what happened to the horse and its owner in the six days following their encounter with the philosopher, which reminds us that people who constitute even the smallest footnotes in history have their own stories and their own points-of-view. This is simultaneously more straightforward and more abstract than Tarr's masterpiece Satantango; unlike the earlier film, it focuses relentlessly on two characters (a cabman and his daughter) instead of an ensemble cast and proceeds in linear fashion instead of a chronology that doubles back on itself. What remains the same is the use of epic long takes, in which entire scenes unfold with elaborate camera movements and little to no editing. The images themselves — decaying walls, wrinkled faces, and leaves and dirt constantly swirling in the air — take on the thick, tactile textures of a charcoal drawing. Aiding them is a wonderfully hypnotic musical score, where strings and an organ play a repetitive, circular motif. The result is a mesmerizing and unforgettable experience. More here.
20. Under the Skin (Glazer, UK, 2013) – 9.6
I've been surprised by the number of people I've spoken to who were turned off by Jonathan Glazer's mind-blowing horror/sci-fi/art film, starring Scarlett Johansson in her finest performance to date, seemingly because it deviates too much from what they expect from a horror, sci-fi, art or Scarlett Johansson film. Johansson daringly inhabits the role of an alien succubus who cruises contemporary Glasgow in a van at night — picking up, seducing and killing young men (most of whom are portrayed by non-actors initially filmed against their knowledge via hidden digital cameras). While having the alien function as a kind of mirror that reflects the basest instincts of men, Glazer's movie may feel like an unusually cruel statement about humanity but this is more than counterbalanced by the director's highly distinctive approach to constructing sound and image, which is so original that I felt exhilarated for days after first seeing it. I am especially fond of the seduction sequences, which imaginatively depict the alien's victims willingly sinking into an inky black void, and Mica Levi's otherworldly string-based score. Full review here.
19. Something in the Air (Assayas, France, 2012) – 9.6
Olivier Assayas's autobiographical quasi-sequel to his autobiographical Cold Water is one of the most detailed and convincing portraits of the late Sixties/early Seventies counterculture I've ever seen in a movie (from France or anywhere else). It is a vividly imagined evocation of the "sex, drugs and rock 'n roll" era that impressively manages to avoid the cliched treatment you might expect of its subject. From France to Italy to England, Assayas' mise-en-scene is lovingly detailed throughout, as if each shot were meticulously recreated from one of the director's highly personal memories, but it's the faces of the actors that ultimately give the film its throat-catching power: these remarkable young people register on screen with the delicacy, beauty and physical immediacy of the "models" of late Bresson. One can only hope that Assayas will keep this adventures-of-Gilles series going and turn it into an Antoine Doinel-like cycle of his own. More here.
18. Tabu (Gomes, Portugal, 2012) – 9.6
This lyrical and entrancing black-and-white movie, which boasts an intriguing two-part structure, announced the arrival of a major talent in the person of 39-year-old Portuguese writer/director Miguel Gomes (who had worked as a film critic and made just two features previously). The first half, entitled "Paradise Lost," concerns the death of Aurora (Laura Soveral), an old woman and compulsive gambler suffering from dementia in contemporary Lisbon. The second half, entitled "Paradise," flashes back to Aurora's youth when she was the beautiful wife of a colonialist-farmer, living on "Mount Tabu" in Africa, and having an affair with Ventura, another Portuguese ex-patriate and the drummer in a rock-and-roll band. I loved everything about this movie: its dreaminess, its eroticism, and its extended poetic reflections on time and memory. And this is not to mention that it also pays homage to F.W. Murnau's classic 1931 film of the same title and features a bitching Portuguese-language cover of The Ronnettes' "Be My Baby." Oh yeah! Full review here.
17. Shutter Island (Scorsese, USA, 2010) – 9.6
The closest Martin Scorsese has come to making a straight-up horror film is also the best thing he's done since Goodfellas in 1990. Forget all the talk about the narrative twists and turns, which aren't any more implausible or predictable than what you will find in Alfred Hitchcock's best movies. Shutter Island is crucial cinema because of the raw and ferocious emotions at its core, in particular the palpable guilt, fear and paranoia of Leonardo DiCaprio's FBI man Teddy Daniels. These emotions all coalesce in the film's ingenious finale, which critic Glenn Kenny has aptly compared to Vertigo and rightly referred to as a "perfect note of empathetic despair." Once the mystery plot has given up its surface secrets, Shutter Island still repays multiple viewings as a brilliant character study. And the baroque visuals, which clearly show the influence of Scorsese's idol Michael Powell, are never less than a treat.
16. In the Shadows (Arslan, Germany, 2010) – 9.7
Tragically unknown in the U.S., German director Thomas Arslan's crime thriller recalls the heyday of Jean-Pierre Melville in its portrait of a taciturn thief known only as "Trojan" (Misel Maticevic), a career criminal who emerges from prison only to immediately embark on a new heist job. Meanwhile, both the cops and a former gangster-nemesis plot to bring about his downfall. Arslan's mastery of the heist picture here is every bit as impressive as his mastery of the Eric Rohmer-style intellectual rom-com in his superb earlier film A Fine Day (2001). Every element of this minimalist movie fits together with the precision of a Swiss watch and yet, after In the Shadows has marched inexorably to its finale, the conclusion still manages to surprise in its supremely cool irony. Arslan could hold up his original screenplay next to anything Quentin Tarantino's ever written and say, "Suck my dick." It's that good.
15. Inherent Vice (Anderson, USA, 2014) – 9.7
When I first saw Inherent Vice, Paul Thomas Anderson's shaggy-dog stoner-detective comedy based on Thomas Pynchon's 2009 novel of the same title, I felt that the director was surprisingly mismatched to the source material. A second viewing, however, has convinced me of just the opposite: the strengths of novelist and filmmaker perfectly compliment one another to create the most ideal Pynchon adaptation anyone could have asked for. Anderson, after all, has a tendency to focus on character psychology at the expense of plot (his recent films have increasingly alienated general audiences because of their narrative gaps and ambiguities) while Pynchon, by contrast, privileges plot over character — his sense of characterization has always skewed towards the cartoonish and iconographic in order for him to better hurtle his characters down insanely elaborate narrative rabbit holes (each of his novels offers a seemingly never-ending series of conspiracy-theory plots). What's remarkable about Inherent Vice is the way the Anderson has been able to remain extremely faithful to the book while also creating something that feels as deeply personal as his other work. He achieves this by making subtle but crucial changes to the novel: notably by turning the love story between Joaquin Phoenix's P.I. Larry "Doc" Sportello and Katherine Waterston's hippie beach-bum Shasta Fay Hepworth into the emotional center of the story, and by making far more explicit the notion that conservative cop Christian "Bigfoot" Bjornsen (Josh Brolin) is Sportello's doppelganger; the poignant final scene between the two men perfectly encapsulates Pynchon's counterculture/"straight world" dichotomy while also recalling the all-male love/hate story climaxes of There Will Be Blood and The Master.
14. Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (Ceylan, Turkey, 2011) – 9.7
Is there a contemporary director with a keener compositional eye than Nuri Bilge Ceylan? This haunting drama, a journey to the end of a long Turkish night, concerns the efforts of police officers, a prosecutor, and a doctor to lead a confessed murderer to the rural site where he allegedly buried his victim. The movie's mesmerizing first two thirds feature gorgeous landscape photography that captures the Turkish countryside in stunningly composed long shots illuminated primarily by the yellow headlights of the police convoy. But Ceylan merely uses the "police procedural" as a pretext to investigate what might be termed the soul of his country. The final third, which takes place the following morning at an autopsy in a nearby town, reveals Once Upon a Time in Anatolia's hidden moral center (the dialogue exchanges between the doctor and the prosecutor take on an increasing symbolic importance) and establishes this as one of the key movies of modern times. More here.
13. Norte, the End of History (Diaz, Philippines, 2013) – 9.7
Lav Diaz's monumental Norte, the End of History, a 4-hour-plus transposition of Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment to the contemporary Philippines, is easily one of the most important films of the 21st century. Diaz, a profoundly modern filmmaker, reminds us why Dostoevsky's 19th-century novel will always be sadly relevant — because pretentious and confused young men will always come up with half-baked philosophical theories to justify their supposed moral superiority. Diaz's real masterstroke, however, is to essentially split Dostoevsky's protagonist into three separate characters: Fabian (Sid Lucero) is the chief Raskolnikov figure, a law-school dropout who commits the horrific and senseless double murder of a loan shark and her daughter; Joaquin (Archie Alemania), a family man and laborer, is falsely accused of the crime and sentenced to a lengthy prison term; Eliza (Angeli Bayani), Joaquin's wife, must consequently roam the countryside and look for odds jobs in order to provide for her and Joaquin's young children. By having Dostoevsky's themes of crime, punishment and redemption correspond to three characters instead of one, Diaz retains the Russian author's trademark first-person psychological intensity while also offering a panoramic view of society that more closely resembles that of Count Tolstoy. Please don't let the extensive running time scare you: like Edward Yang's A Brighter Summer Day, another favorite work of art that Norte resembles, not a minute of screen time here is wasted. More here.
12. Zero Dark Thirty (Bigelow, USA, 2012) – 9.8
Has it ever been less intellectually fashionable to love a movie that was so critically and commercially successful? Or, to put it another way, has there ever been a case where the vociferous objections of cultural commentators generated way more noise than anything film critics had to say in shaping how the dialogue about a movie played out in the public arena? I saw this astonishing film, director Kathryn Bigelow's best, three times in the theater, then several more times on Blu-ray, and felt shaken to the core after every viewing. It depresses the hell out of me that I know some smart cinephiles, even some who liked The Hurt Locker, who nonetheless stayed away from this dark and brooding meditation on the cost of our "invisible war" out of fear that it would be an example of spiking-the-football propaganda (to borrow a phrase from President Obama). Remember, folks: torture isn't morally wrong depending on whether it does or does not get results for those who practice it. It's morally wrong, period (as Bigelow and screenwriter Mark Boal do actually show). Jessica Chastain, who puts a human face on — and provides an emotional center for — the very public and global story of the decade-long manhunt around which these debates swirled, gives a performance that is nothing less than phenomenal. The final, ambiguous close-up of her face, tears streaming down her cheeks, haunts me to this day. Full review here. More thoughts here and here.
11. Stranger By the Lake (Guiraudie, France, 2013) – 9.8
Alain Guiraudie's film begins on a beautiful sunny day in an idyllic lakeside park populated by frolicsome gay men, and ends a little over an hour-and-a-half later on a note of existential terror as a single character stands alone in the nearby woods engulfed in pitch-black darkness. In between, sex and death are inextricably intertwined as one of the "cruisers" commits murder while another witnesses the act but doesn't report it, mainly because of his sexual attraction to the killer. Adventurous viewers will find many dividends to be paid from the way the rigorous construction of the Hitchcockian-thriller elements meets a fascinating, near-ethnographic view of a very specific queer subculture, but I also can't help but see it as a sly cautionary tale: who hasn't been guilty at one time or another of rationalizing the obvious, potentially dangerous faults of a person to whom one is physically attracted? While much ink has been spilled about the movie's Hitchcock connection and the explicitness of the sex scenes, there hasn't been enough discussion about just how funny this is. My favorite example of Guiraudie's humor is the pesky police inspector-character, who could've almost stepped out of one of Claude Chabrol's daffier efforts, repeatedly popping up at the most inopportune moments. More here.
10. Mysteries of Lisbon (Ruiz, Portugal, 2010) – 9.8
The great Chilean director Raul Ruiz passed away in 2011 at the age of 70 and, shortly thereafter, his final masterwork turned up in U.S. theaters. This four-and-a-half hour distillation of a six hour made-for-television miniseries is the most fitting swan song one could imagine: an adaptation of a 19th century novel about a fourteen-year-old orphan whose investigation into his origins opens up a Pandora's box of stories (and stories-within-stories) that make it feel like Ruiz's magnum opus. The theme of the film is creation, whether it's the construction of narratives or of self-created identities (my favorite narrative threads concern the intertwined destinies of an assassin who transforms himself into a nobleman and a gypsy who becomes a priest), which is perfectly captured by a restless camera that is constantly tracking around the characters in semi-circular fashion. This movie has a little bit of everything in it — Orson Welles, Charles Dickens, Carl Dreyer, Jorge Luis Borges and Luchino Visconti — while also remaining uniquely and supremely Ruizian.
9. The Social Network (Fincher, USA, 2010) – 9.8
Another groundbreaking, digitally-shot time capsule from David Fincher's astonishing post-Panic Room mature period. Every aspect of this movie works — from the terrific rapid-fire dialogue of Aaron Sorkin's screenplay (which recalls the heyday of Hollywood screwball comedy) to the sterling ensemble cast (notably Jesse Eisenberg as motor-mouthed Mark Zuckerberg, Justin Timberlake as the Mephistophelean Sean Parker, and Andrew Garfield as Eduardo Saverin, the man they both screw over and the movie's true emotional core). But it is Fincher's mise-en-scene, which for many reasons could have only been achieved in the 21st century, that turns The Social Network into an exhilarating roller-coaster ride. To what extent does this film about the origins of Facebook define our time? Who cares? It's a film for all time. Full review here.
8. Life Without Principle (To, Hong Kong, 2011) – 9.9
Johnnie To's 2011 masterpiece, one of the very best movies in his long and prolific filmography, depicts three interlocking crime stories about money-mad characters (the most prominent of whom is a lovable, low-level triad portrayed by the brilliant Lau Ching-Wan) scrambling to get ahead in the current global financial crisis. Short on action but long on delightful cat-and-mouse style maneuverings, this absurdist dramedy succeeds as both nimble, expertly clever storytelling (a set piece involving a young banker selling a high-risk investment to an elderly customer is worthy of Beckett) and as a prescient sociological analysis. In an ideal world, anyone wanting to make a crime thriller in Hollywood would be forced to watch this. Full review here.
7. Li'l Quinquin (Dumont, France, 2014) – 9.9
Bruno Dumont's dark comedy/mystery miniseries begins with the unforgettable, borderline-surreal image of a dead cow being airlifted out of a WWII bunker by helicopter in a small town in northern France. Local police soon discover that the corpse of a woman has been stuffed inside of the cow and begin a criminal investigation. Ingeniously, Dumont shows these events not primarily from the perspective of the cops but rather through the eyes of the town's children, specifically the titular character (Alane Delhaye), an altar boy who has a potty mouth, the face of a pugilist and a penchant for firecrackers. "Li'l Quiquin," son of a local farmer, has a girlfriend, the symbolically named Eve (Lucy Caron), and by allowing the plot to unfold mainly from the semi-comprehending vantage point of these semi-innocent characters, Dumont essentially splits the duality inherent in the childlike cop-protagonist of his earlier Humanite into two separate realms: that of the town's adults and that of the town's children. The tension Dumont creates between these worlds handsomely pays off about half-way through the series when themes of racial and religious intolerance are introduced: one way Dumont bends the television format to his advantage is by using his expansive running time to show how prejudice is the result of social conditioning that can pervade an entire community (and the fact that one scene takes place during a Bastille Day celebration indicates that Dumont means for his location to function as a microcosm of France as a whole). If we are living in a "golden age" of television, as countless cultural critics believe, Li'l Quinquin is proof positive that this golden age is not restricted to America alone. Full review here.
6. The Strange Case of Angelica (De Oliveira, Portugal, 2010) – 9.9
The Strange Case of Angelica sees Manoel de Oliveira returning to the same theme as his previous film, the superb Eccentricities of a Blonde-haired Girl, but where the earlier movie was one of his lightest and most purely entertaining, Angelica tackles "the unattainability of the ideal" in the slow, deliberate and weighty style we've come to expect from the master. This 2011 drama is adapted from a script that Oliveira originally wrote in the 1950s about Isaac, a young photographer haunted by the image of the title character, a deceased woman he is asked to photograph on behalf of her wealthy parents. Pretty soon he is, in the words of John Keats, "half in love with easeful death." (It doesn't help Isaac any that when he first spies Angelica through his camera, she opens her eyes and appears to come to life, thus making this story a parable about cinema as well.) This is full of the director's usual digressions on science, art and history but it also features a new twist in a number of charming fantasy sequences involving CGI that, appropriately for someone who began working in the silent era, recall nothing so much as the primitive "illusionism" of Georges Melies. A beautiful, complex, deeply spiritual and essential film. More here.
5. A Touch of Sin (Jia, China, 2013) – 9.9
Mainland China's greatest contemporary filmmaker, Jia Zhang-ke, made what is arguably his most vital film to date with this angry, occasionally shocking work of social criticism, in which four loosely connected stories are used to show how the collaboration between the Chinese Communist government and big business is wreaking havoc on the lives of ordinary Chinese citizens. Each story culminates in an act of tragic violence (all of which were apparently based on real events) while also paying deft homage to the "honor killings" that permeate the wuxia classics of yesteryear (beginning with King Hu's A Touch of Zen, from which Jia's movie derives its punning English-language title). Shot by Jia's longtime cinematographer, the great Yu Lik-Wai, these stories unfold in long shot/long take tableaux that dazzle with their cinematic sophistication while also reinforcing the notion of tragic inevitability suggested by the circular narrative structure. Out of all the films I saw in 2013, this is the one that I suspect will be of the most interest in a few decades time when future cinephiles want to know what the year was like. Full review here.
4. Holy Motors (Carax, France, 2012) – 10
Leos Carax's first feature film after a 13-year absence was this funny, strange, joyous, heartbreaking, beautiful and difficult to describe experience — an exhilarating, hallucinatory journey concerning a man named Oscar (the great, ridiculously expressive Denis Lavant) who finds himself, for reasons never explained, embodying eleven different avatars over the course of one long day. Whisking him from one "appointment" to the next is an elderly female chauffeur named Celine (an enchanting Edith Scob), and their warm-hearted bond perfectly balances out the moodier aspects of Carax's eulogy for what he sees as the end of our era of "large visible machines." Out of all the great movies I've seen in the 2010s, none has struck me as more deeply personal (nor more embarrassingly private — it was dedicated to Carax's girlfriend, the actress Katarine Golubeva, who committed suicide shortly before production began, an event that is symbolically recreated in the film). Although Carax may not care about aggressively courting critics or even audiences, he still believes, like a child, that movies are magic. I defy you to watch this film and not believe it too. Full review here.
3. Boyhood (Linklater, USA, 2014) – 10
Richard Linklater delivered his magnum opus with this 12-years-in-the-making intimate epic about one Texas boy's life from the ages of six to 18. No mere gimmick, Linklater's strategy of shooting an average of just 3-to-4 days per year has resulted in a profound meditation on the concept of time, as viewers are asked to observe not only the protagonist (Ellar Coltrane) grow and change over the years but also the actors playing his sister (Lorelei Linklater) and parents (Ethan Hawke and Patricia Arquette) — and are consequently invited to think about the passage of time in their own lives in the process. Linklater's masterstroke was his decision to de-dramatize the material; many younger filmmakers could learn a thing or two from this film's lack of external, dramatic action. In place of "plot," he serves up a series of low-key but universally relatable scenes that movingly capture the essence of what it means to "grow up" in 2 hours and 46 minutes. Or, as Ethan Hawke put it in an interview, "What (Linklater)'s saying is that life doesn't have to be hyperbolized. What we actually experience is good enough." As always with this Linklater, there's a great deal of humor and heart, but the film's ingenious central conceit pushes Boyhood into the realm of a game-changer. Full review here.
2. Certified Copy (Kiarostami, Iran/France/Italy, 2010) – 10
Who could have guessed that austere Iranian master Abbas Kiarostami would end up doing his best work by shooting a warm, gentle and wise comedy in Italy with French superstar Juliette Binoche? An English writer (opera singer William Shimell) and a French antique store owner (Binoche) meet at a lecture given by the former on the topic of his new book — the qualitative difference between original works of art and their reproductions; she invites him on a tour of a nearby Tuscan village, during which time they converse about life, love and art. Midway through the film, they begin to play-act that they are a married couple for the benefit of a café owner who is under that mistaken impression. Only the longer the "couple" carries on the act, the more it seems as if they really are married and perhaps they were merely play-acting to be strangers in the beginning. I still don't know how "original" this brilliant cinematic sleight-of-hand is or how much it intentionally "reproduces" Roberto Rossellini's Voyage to Italy, Richard Linklater's Before Sunrise and Luis Bunuel in general (acknowledged most obviously by the presence of Bunuel's longtime screenwriter Jean-Claude Carriere). But I do know this film is a genuine masterpiece, one that has already proven to be endlessly rewatchable. More here.
1. Goodbye to Language (Godard, France, 2014) – 10
In Jean-Luc Godard's 1996 film For Ever Mozart, the director poses the question, "In the 'I think, therefore I am,' is the 'I' of 'I am' no longer the same as the 'I' of 'I think' and why?" Goodbye to Language seeks to answer this Cartesian inquiry with a resounding "no" by offering a philosophical meditation on the fractured nature of identity in our era of mass communication. In his astonishing first feature in 3-D, the now-84-year-old Godard pointedly shows, through an almost impossibly rich tapestry of stereoscopic images and sounds, how language and technology have conspired to create barriers that separate humans not only from each other but also from themselves ("Soon everyone will need an interpreter to understand the words coming from their own mouths," is one characteristically epigrammatic line of dialogue.) The film is split into three parts: "Nature" (a section demarcated by a title card reading "1"), which focuses on Josette and Gedeon (Héloïse Godet and Kamel Abdelli); "Metaphor" (a section demarcated by a title card reading "2"), which focuses on Ivitch and Marcus (Zoé Bruneau and Richard Chevallier); and a short third part (beginning with a title card reading "3D"), which introduces a third couple–Godard and his longtime collaborator Anne-Marie Mieville, who are not seen but whose voices are heard on the soundtrack. The real "star" of Goodbye to Language, however, is not a human at all but rather Godard's mixed-breed dog Roxy, who is frequently depicted alone, frolicking in nature, commanding both the most screen time and serving as the subject of some of the film's most dazzling stereoscopic effects. The shots of Roxy's handsome snout in the maw of Godard and cinematographer Fabrice Aragno's homemade 3-D-camera rig, which convey an overwhelming feeling of love for the animal on the part of his owner/director, are so rapturously beautiful they may make you want to cry. The film ends by juxtaposing the sounds of a dog barking with that of a baby wailing on the soundtrack, thus linking Roxy not only to nature but, implicitly, to a state of unspoiled innocence that humans possess only prior to learning to speak. Godard's poetic use of 3-D in Goodbye to Language, the best such use of the technology in any movie I've seen, puts this groundbreaking work in the class of his (and the cinema's) great achievements. Full review here.
34 Comments | tags: A Touch of Sin, Abbas Kiarostami, Abderrahmane Sissako, Adieu au langage, Apres mai, Bela Tarr, Boyhood, Bruno Dumont, Certified Copy, David Fincher, Goodbye to Language, Hayao Miyazaki, Holy Motors, Im Schatten, In the Shadows, Inherent Vice, Jean-Luc Godard, Jia Zhang-Ke, Johnnie To, Jonathan Glazer, Kathryn Bigelow, Lav Diaz, Leos Carax, Li'l Quinquin, Life Without Principle, Manoel de Oliveira, Martin Scorsese, Miguel Gomes, Misterios de Lisboa, Mohsen Makhmalbaf, Mysteries of Lisbon, Norte the End of History, Nuri Bilge Ceylan, O Estranho Caso de Angelica, Olivier Assayas, Once Upon a Time in Anatolia, P'tit Quinquin, Paul Thomas Anderson, Raul Ruiz, Richard Linklater, Roman Polanski, Shutter Island, Something in the Air, Stranger By the Lake, Tabu, The Ghost Writer, The Social Network, The Strange Case of Angelica, The Turin Horse, The Wind Rises, This is Not a Film, Thomas Arslan, Timbuktu, Under the Skin, Zero Dark Thirty | posted in All Best of Lists, Film Reviews
Top Ten Films of 2010
It may not have been as strong of a calendar year as 2007, which I'm convinced will go down as one of the all-time great movie years alongside of 1939 and 1960 (but that's a subject for another post); 2010 was still a good year for the movies. I would go so far as to say it offered an embarrassment of riches for Chicago-area cinephiles – provided, that is, one knew where to look. The only films I really wanted to see but missed were Tuesday, After Christmas, the latest buzzed about film of the Romanian New Wave, which received a scant few Chicago International Film Festival screenings, and the full five and a half hour cut of Olivier Assayas' Carlos, which turned up for a few Music Box screenings before being supplanted by the much shorter, and ostensibly more audience friendly, theatrical cut. But with so much good cinema fare playing only in limited runs or at "alternative" venues, a few things are bound to slip through the cracks. Having said all that, I'd like to give a special shout out to The Chicago International Film Festival for having a more impressive line-up than usual and the enterprising programmers at the Music Box, the Siskel Center and Facets, who continued to go above and beyond the call of duty in bringing the best of contemporary world cinema to the Second City.
Below is a list of my ten favorite new films to first play Chicago in 2010 (even though some debuted elsewhere last year), as well as fifteen runners-up.
The Top Ten (in preferential order):
10. White Material (Denis, France/Cameroon) – The Music Box. Rating: 8.2
The peerless Isabelle Huppert combines sinewy physical strength with psychological complexity as Maria, the French owner of a coffee plantation in a nameless civil war-torn African country. As violence escalates, Maria presses on running her business, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge that the world around her is descending into chaos. No characters are spared the harsh eye of director Claire Denis in this disturbing drama – not Maria's fractured family, the government troops, nor the rebel soldiers (including a fair number of child soldiers) led by Isaach de Bankole. This isn't a masterpiece on the order of her earlier Beau Travail but no one else except Denis, who spent her childhood in Africa and has now made three films there, seems willing to perform the necessary task of providing a moral reckoning of France's colonial past.
9. Around a Small Mountain (Rivette, France, 2009) – Siskel Center. Rating: 8.3
Jacques Rivette's supposed swan song, which some allege was completed by his longtime screenwriter Pascal Bonitzer, is a charming, wise, deceptively simple film that clocks in at a very atypically brief 84 minutes. The story concerns an Italian businessman (Sergio Castellitto) who becomes involved with a low-rent traveling circus, presided over by a mysterious Englishwoman (Jane Birkin). But plot is really only an excuse for Rivette and Bonitzer to explore the nature of performance and how art and life are inextricably bound. Delightful scenes of jugglers, acrobats and clowns performing are intercut with the main story until it becomes unclear where the performance ends and life begins. If it is Rivette's last movie, it is a fitting farewell indeed. Full review here.
8. Carlos (Assayas, France/Germany) Music Box. Rating: 8.4
French writer/director Olivier Assayas posits the international terrorist as rock star in this electrifying biopic of Ilich "Carlos the Jackal" Ramirez Sanchez. Multilingual, made-for-television and shot in many different countries, this insanely ambitious epic is a perfect reflection of the "global" character of cinema in the 21st century – even as it sticks closely to the "rise and fall" formula of a Warner Brothers gangster film of the 1930s. The highlight is an hour long scene depicting Sanchez's takeover of OPEC headquarters in 1975, a set piece that puts most contemporary Hollywood action movies to shame. If the film's inevitable downward spiral denouement can't sustain as much interest, no matter. This is still essential stuff.
7. Everyone Else (Ade, Germany/Italy) – Gene Siskel Film Center. Rating: 8.5
Everyone Else announces the arrival of a major new directorial talent in Maren Ade, the film's young female writer/director. In only her second feature film, the chronicle of the end of a love affair between a young German couple vacationing in Sardinia, Ade shows she knows a thing or two about human nature and the mysterious machinations of a relationship in irreversible decline. Reportedly inspired by Ingmar Bergman, whose relationship dramas traverse similar psychological terrain, I found this more devastating and more cinematic than Ade's ostensible models. I can't wait to see what she does next. Full review here.
6. Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (Weerasethakul, Thailand) – Chicago International Film Festival. Rating: 9.0
"Facing the jungle, the hills and vales, my past lives as an animal and other beings rise up before me." So begins the latest film by Apichatpong "Joe" Weerasethakul, one of the world's most exciting young directors. Fully deserving of its Cannes Palm d'Or, Uncle Boonmee is a masterful tone poem that expands on the spiritual themes of Joe's earlier work to encompass a graceful, feature-length meditation on dying and death. Shot entirely in the jungles of rural Thailand, the cinematography is appropriately lush and the dense sound mix creates an impressively immersive experience. I suspect the experimental aspects of this film may drive some viewers up the wall but I could have watched it go on forever; I emerged from the theater as relaxed and refreshed as I typically feel after watching a film by Yasujiro Ozu. More here.
5. Wild Grass (Resnais, France) – The Music Box. Rating: 9.3
Alain Resnais' alternately sublime and ridiculous study of fantasy and obsession represents a return to the "wildness" of his early films and, for my money, is also his best film in decades. I really admire the way Resnais takes the premise of a generic romantic comedy (a typical meet-cute involving his regular players André Dussollier and Sabine Azema) and continually undercuts the audience's desire to "identify" with these characters. Is Dussollier a stalker? Did he actually kill a man in the past? Why does Azema express interest in him as soon as he loses interest in her? The most obvious example of the film's surrealist/satirical bent is its first false ending, complete with Sweeping Romantic Gesture and Twentieth Century Fox theme music. This is followed by the "real" ending, a cosmic punchline so bat-shit crazy that it nearly caused me to fall out of my chair from laughing so hard. I also loved the candy box colors and near-constant use of crane shots. Now what the hell's wrong with Sony Pictures Classics that they won't release a blu-ray, hmmmm?
4. Shutter Island (Scorsese, USA) – Wide Release. Rating: 9.5
The closest Martin Scorsese has come to making a straight horror film is also the best thing he's done since Goodfellas in 1990. Forget about the narrative twists and turns, which aren't any more implausible or predictable than what you'll find in Hitchcock's best movies. Shutter Island is a great film because of the raw, ferocious emotions at its core, in particular the palpable guilt, fear and paranoia of Leonardo DiCaprio's Teddy Daniels. These emotions all coalesce in the film's ingenious finale, which critic Glenn Kenny has aptly compared to Vertigo and referred to as a "perfect note of empathetic despair." Once the mystery plot has given up its surface secrets, Shutter Island still repays multiple viewings as a brilliant character study. And the unusually baroque visuals, which clearly show the influence of Scorsese's idol Michael Powell, are never less than a treat.
3. The Ghost Writer (Polanski, UK/Germany/France) – Landmark's Century Centre Cinema. Rating: 9.6
With this, his 19th feature film, Roman Polanski earned the dubious distinction of becoming the first director to supervise post-production of a major motion picture from jail. Unfortunately, the brouhaha surrounding l'affaire Polanski overshadowed this superb return to form, a meticulously crafted political thriller. Comparisons between The Ghost Writer and Shutter Island are instructive, as both are influenced by Alfred Hitchcock but in radically different ways; Martin Scorsese is the modernist, Polanski the classicist. In Scorsese's film, every aspect of the movie is aggressively stylized as a way for the director to comment on the subject matter (expressive camera movements, bold color schemes, intentionally fake-looking digital backdrops, crazy editing rhythms). In Polanski's film, the visual components are just as aesthetically developed but are less self-conscious and more pressed to the service of, not really the story per se, but more what I would call Polanski's theme; this is most obvious in Polanski's rigorous color scheme (in particular the suppression of red) and the set design of Pierce Brosnan's beach-front home, which is perhaps best described as a modern-art nightmare. Both movies finally aren't about "story" at all; Shutter Island centers on the question of whether violence is inherent in human nature. The Ghost Writer is a query into the dark heart of our new global society and how the major players on that stage use, betray, victimize and discard one another.
2. The Social Network (Fincher, USA) – Wide Release. Rating: 9.8
Another groundbreaking, digitally shot time capsule from David Fincher's astonishing post-Panic Room mature period. Every aspect of this movie works — from the terrific rapid-fire dialogue of Aaron Sorkin's screenplay (which recalls the heyday of Hollywood screwball comedy) to the sterling ensemble cast (notably Jesse Eisenberg as motor-mouthed Mark Zuckerberg, Justin Timberlake as the Mephistophelean Sean Parker, and Andrew Garfield as Eduardo Saverin, the man they both screw over and the movie's true emotional core). But it's Fincher's mise-en-scene, which for many reasons could have only been achieved in the 21st century, that turns The Social Network into an exhilarating roller coaster ride. A film that defines our time? Who cares? It's a film for all time. Full review here.
1. Certified Copy (Kiarostami, Iran/France/Italy) – Chicago International Film Festival. Rating: 10
I've heard Abbas Kiarostami's latest masterpiece described as both a comedy and a metaphysical horror film. Certified Copy, which seems to be both a curve ball and a true-to-form puzzle film from the master, is great enough and slippery enough to accommodate both descriptions simultaneously. I still don't know if this is a story about the characters played by Juliette Binoche and William Shimmel engaging in some extreme form of play-acting or if the film instead posits a kind of mutable reality in which their identities are constantly morphing in accordance with the demands of a mischievous narrative. And that's how I like it. Binoche continues to look more radiant with each passing year and Shimell (a professional opera singer but amateur thespian) is pitch-perfect as her foil. More here.
The Fifteen Runners Up (in alphabetical order):
35 Shots of Rum (Denis, France) – The Music Box. Rating: 7.7
Black Swan (Aronofsky, USA) – Wide Release. Rating: 7.6
The Chaser (Na, S. Korea) – Facets Cinematheque. Rating: 7.1
Chicago Heights (Nearing, USA) – Gene Siskel Film Center. More here. Rating: 5.8
Heartbeats (Dolan, Canada) – Chicago International Film Festival. More here. Rating: 7.5
Hereafter (Eastwood, USA/France/UK) – Wide Release. Rating: 7.3
Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work (Stern/Sundberg, USA) – Landmark's Century Centre Cinema. Rating: 7.5
Lebanon (Maoz, Israel/Lebanon) – The Music Box. Full review here. Rating: 7.7
Life During Wartime (Solondz, USA) – The Musix Box. Rating: 6.7
On Tour (Amalric, France) – Chicago International Film Festival. More here. Rating: 6.6
A Prophet (Audiard, France) – Landmark's Century Centre Cinema. Rating: 7.0
Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (Wright, USA/Canada) – Wide Release. Rating: 7.4
The Town (Affleck, USA) – Wide Release. Full review here. Rating: 7.0
True Grit (Coens, USA) – Wide Release. Rating: 7.4
Winter's Bone (Granik, USA) – Landmark's Century Centre Cinema. Rating: 6.9
Anyone reading this should feel free to post their own favorites in the comments section below.
10 Comments | tags: 36 vues du Pic Saint Loup, Abbas Kiarostami, Alain Resnais, Alle Anderen, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Around a Small Mountain, Carlos, Certified Copy, Claire Denis, Copie Conforme, David Fincher, Everyone Else, Jacques Rivette, Les Herbes folles, Maren Ade, Martin Scorsese, Olivier Assayas, Roman Polanski, Shutter Island, The Ghost Writer, The Social Network, Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, White Material, Wild Grass | posted in All Best of Lists, Best Films of 2010, Film Reviews


By now, you've heard a lot about the "Microsoft Cloud". We've talked a lot about what is Windows Azure, the problems it solves, the business opportunities it presents, and even more so, about its capabilities, functions, APIs, and developer tools. But there's one aspect of Windows Azure that has always been a mystery to most – what's underneath the hood of Windows Azure?
For this week's Windows Azure Wednesday (#AzureWednesday), I thought I would share something that is completely not related to development but has crossed the mind of every developer at least once. You've probably asked yourself, "When I deploy an application to Windows Azure, where does it go?" or perhaps "What do Windows Azure data centres look like?".