Ken's 10 will get you 20 in 2010:

00: Mission to Mars & You Can Count on Me

Two movies where subtext is everything, and key scenes are used to communicate devastating emotional turning points. De Palma captures the very American "can do" spirit of astronauts in what seems like a gung-ho story illustrates the real significance of loss. Lonergan turns the giddy anticipation of the reunion of two siblings into a painful argument once one reveals where they've been in the absence of time. Both also have great tones set by Ennio Morricone's score for the first and Steve Earle's songs in the second.

01: Last Orders/Waking Life

Two that philosophically contemplate the meaning of life, the first through the death of a friend, and the next in the realm of dreams. Not much more to say, really, but both did so in visually inventive ways.

02: Punch-Drunk Love/25th Hour

A pair that are probably my favorites by their respective directors. Paul Thomas Anderson somehow finds a way to make me like and even understand "Adam Sandler" in the context of his almost movie musical. Spike Lee dives headfirst into telling an early post 9/11 story and makes it to the end without drowning. Both also present interesting narratives on what it is to be "a man".

03: X2/Oldboy

My favorite and most fully realized action movies of the decade (yes, more than Iron Man (X2 got there first) and definitely more than Nolan's Batmans). Both are fun spins on revenge and sacrifice, but it's the big scenes that really stick with you: Magneto's escape from his elegant, plastic prison, Dae-su Oh's from a mob den armed only with a hammer and single-pan shot; a genuinely frightening plane descent in the former, and a truly terrifying live octopus in the latter.

04: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind/Before Sunset

In a year where the majority of my favorite movies of the decade were released, Eternal Sunshine was the first and best, while Before Sunset is the one I've most often thought about. The former is the first work of Charlie Kaufman's that I think comes out perfect; the latter, an unexpected surprise -- when do you ever get a sequel for a zero box office indie movie nine years after the first one? Both explore the entangled relationship of love and memory as far as anything can, and both end with appropriate ambiguity. They're also well served by the great performances of Kate Winslet, Jim Carrey, Julie Delpy, and Ethan Hawke. The work of Richard Linklater and Michel Gondry & co. is nothing to sniff at either.

05: Junebug/The New World

Two about exploration, and what happens when you want more. Oversimplified, I know. I still need more time to think about Malick's movie, which has occupied a big space in my brain since I finally saw it just after Thanksgiving, but I think it's easily the best in its year. I've had loads more time to think on Junebug: I like that you can't really be sure of Madeleine's character -- is she the villain of the piece, and/or simply awkwardly doing her best with the in-laws she barely knows? I've spoken to people who find the whole movie insultingly condescending in the presentation of its characters, but I feel completely opposite in the depiction of North Caroliners and their prodigal son, and Amy Adams is amazing in it.

06: Children of Men/Pan's Labyrinth

In what I recall being sort of a lame year, these two have sparked the most personal arguments. Some people charge that the "single takes" in the first are so blatantly fake that you're taken completely out of the movie, while others (me, obvs) felt so sucked in that it translated into hyperreality, a constant buzz of terror increased by the lack of cutting away in those scenes. In the latter, I completely bought into Ofelia's ignited imagination; what more does a girl need than a magical forest in the middle of fascist Spain? The special effects are deployed in a magnificently mundane way, so you never know if what she's seeing is real or just all in her desperate mind. Both films can also be read to have either abundantly happy, hopeful endings or as cruel, sick jokes. Muchas Gracias, Mexico!

07: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly/Ratatouille

The first restored my faith in movies at a period where I thought they were being wildly overrated (yes you, There Will Be Blood, and you, No Country for Old Men, and I'm not forgetting you, The Savages). The second is my personal favorite from the kingdom of Pixar. Both tell stories from the viewpoint of unlikely perspectives -- a paralyzed man left with only the use of one blinking eye, and the beautiful taboo of a rat in a kitchen -- and rapidly succeed over the course of their running time to place you in their heads. Both movies also make the most of flashbacks, and Ratatouille's may be the best, ever.

08: Happy-Go-Lucky/Let the Right One In

Two movies where I felt the desire to be protective of the main characters, only to discover that they'll do fine all on their own. Both have a hopefulness about humanity that'll make you feel right about the world; cleverly, both are also structured so that, depending on your perspective, you can almost feel the exact, pessimistic opposite.

09: Fantastic Mr. Fox/Summer Hours

"Pensez-vous que l'hiver sera rude?"

Ah, just go and see these last two, since they were out so recently. Done.

Dispatches from the Tribeca Film Festival - "Theater of War" & "Children of Men"

In times of war, how much responsibility does a director have to incorporate the world around him into the world that he creates in his art? This is one of the central questions that emerges from John Walter's documentary "Theater of War." The doc itself follows a production of Bertolt Brecht's "Mother Courage" that was put on by the Public theater starring Meryl Streep. Interspersed between shots of rehearsal are interviews with Streep, playwright Tony Kushner (who adapted the play for the production) and Brecht's daughter, as well as segments on the life of Brecht himself (the film is a good study in why directors [esp documentary filmmakers] should not edit their own work as some of the interspersions detract from the film as a whole [I must keep it in!!! Its my favorite!!!]. That being said, Public Theater Artistic director Oskar Eutis riding his bicycle cigar in hand is a moment that should be interspersed into all films.)

The play was put on in 2006 and the film is just coming out this year, so both had to come to terms with creating art on war in a time of war. Walter's does not shirk this responsibility, showing the anti-war protests that happened during the plays rehearsal as well as drawing parallels between the Iraq War climate and the WWII climate that produced the original "Mother Courage." These parallels are not heavy handed (Speaking of which, Michael Moore was at the screening). Walter's antiwar slant comes out of Brecht's work (Mother Courage loses everything to the war) and the Public theater's production rather than out of his own ideology. It is refreshing to see a documentary that does not sidestep the fact that we are currently at war but also does not barge into the topic and preach to the audience. Nicole Kidman said famously after September 11th that art is important but Walters goes deeper and explores how art is necessarily changed by war (Streep, in one segment, discusses how being in the play is her way of dealing with her frustration about the war).

Alphonso Cuarón "Children of Men" (2006) is another film that is closely tied to the current climate (note that it was released the year "Mother Courage" was performed). Cuarón wrote this film based on the novel of the same name by P.D. James and I think it is safe to assume that his interpretation of James' dystopia was affected by the way he sees the current state of the world (see video later in post).

That is not to say that the film, divorced from its historical context could not stand on its own, but in our current climate, graphic images of bombs going off in coffee shops, overcrowded refuge camps and rampant distrust and imprisonment of immigrants hit particularly close to home. In fact, as great a film as I think "Children of Men" is, I do not think I can ever see it again. I have never been as shook up by a movie. It is not a film for the faint of heart. Of course, it takes place in a fictional time, in a world where children are no longer born. But once you accept that one difference: no children, the world of the film seems a little to real. There are moments when blood spatters the camera lens, our eye into the world. It is as if Cuarón is saying "YOU ARE HERE." If ever a movie could give you PTSD, this is the one. Though I do wonder about how much my own reaction is based on the times. Would a 1950's viewer or a viewer 50 years from now be as affected? If a director is responsible for understanding and the war around them and its affect on their art, how much are we, the viewer, responsible for being conscious of how the war affects our viewing?



I normally just add video to give you a taste of the film, but the video above, which focuses on the cinematography of Emmanuel Lubezki discusses how he strove to make the war seem "real" using lighting, style and editing.


Other Films in Brief:

"Fighter" (Natasha Arthy) 2007 : The Turkish "Bend it like Beckham". Predictable but fun. Very well filmed fight scenes, a treat for Kung Fu Fans. Congrats to Omar, a stuntman from the film who sat behind me at the screening.

"Everywhere at Once" (Holly Fisher & Peter Lindbergh) 2008 : If you like French impressionist film, see this movie. If you have a history of falling asleep in movies, skip it. That being said, Lindbergh's photographs are beautiful and everything remotely involving Milla Jovovich is awesome. Seriously, who need Maya Deren or experimental film when you have this: