Sunday, September 16, 2007

Disturbing Rear Window

I didn't see it at the theater because I was one of the seven people in the country who chose to go see Grindhouse that weekend instead. The movie has a few effective suspense scenes, but for the most part it wasn't very good. It's premise is obviously derived from Rear Window (1954) – a housebound individual starts peeping on his neighbors and suspects that one of them is a murderer – but it felt like the filmmakers simply had no understanding of what made Hitchcock's version so effective and wonderful. Every change they made to the Rear Window template was a step in the wrong direction, betraying the central conceits of the story. So, I thought I'd jot down a few musings I've had about where Disturbia went wrong in its translation of Hitch...

First off, the central premise of the filming of Rear Window was that (with the exception of the final shot) the camera never leaves the room. In other words, the audience is stuck in the apartment for the whole film along with the James Stewart character, who has broken his leg. Much of the suspense comes from the claustrophobia of being in the room, and from the frustration of being unable to simply cross the courtyard to get a closer look in the neighbors' apartments. By tying his camera to the room, Hitchcock expertly monkeys with the conventions of Hollywood filmmaking: only James Stewart and his pals are granted close-ups; the rest of the neighbors are only seen in long shot. Big reveals in movies usually happen in close-ups. We also get to know more about the characters who appear in close-up. By denying the close-up for Stewart's neighbors – at best they are seen with a long lens from across the courtyard – Hitchcock interferes with the audience's familiar expectation of moving from wide to close shots to get a better look at things. Disturbia opens up the space a little more: Shia LeBoeuf's character is under house arrest and can move around most of his house and garden. That's all fine and good, as it gave us more places to explore and stopped the movie from just being a complete Rear Window clone. It made the mistake, however, of frequently letting the camera go outside the boundary of the house. In other words, the camera was given more freedom to roam than the character, and the audience never feels locked down like the character is. As a result, the film gave into the audience's desire to see more than the character can, and diluted the suspense by doing so.

This leads me to a second, related, complaint: like a lot of movies these days, Disturbia did not understand the concept of a restricted point-of-view. The whole premise of Rear Window works because we, the audience, are locked into the same point-of-view as the James Stewart character. We only learn things when he learns things. If we were to get ahead of him in the story, the film would be dead and would have nowhere to go. Disturbia blows this by allowing us get ahead of the Shia LeBoeuf character and see things that he does not see. Every time it does this, it drains the movie of suspense. The biggest impact this has is on our knowledge of the killer. In Rear Window, we are deprived of seeing the suspected killer in close-up until the very end of the film when he enters Stewart's apartment. In Disturbia, we are given lots of opportunity to see and get to know the killer, and we learn more about him than the main character knows – such as in the scene where he scares Sarah Roemer in her car or in the scene where the camera cuts to blood splatting on the neighbor's window (something none of the protagonists see). There is really no ambiguity about whether the neighbor is a killer or not because we know too much. Had the film stuck rigorously to LeBoeuf's point-of-view, and had it shown less of the neighbor, this would have been avoided.

The last point I'll discuss is the issue of voyeurism. Rear Window is all about the desire to look, and Hitchcock consciously implicates the film audience in James Stewart's voyeurism. Hitch is basically saying that all cinema audiences are peepers who get off on spying on other people's lives. By locking the camera to the room, by denying the audience close-ups, and by restricting our point-of-view to that of Stewart, Hitchcock is deliberately toying with our desire to look. And at the end of the movie, he is careful to punish Stewart's voyeurism by having him break his other leg. In this era of mobile devices and ubiquitous surveillance, Disturbia had the potential to explore similar issues about what it means to look in today's world. Of course, it doesn't seem to aim for that at all, and it ultimately ends up becoming something of a pro-surveillance movie: LeBoeuf is rewarded, not punished, for surveilling his neighbors; moreover, he even gets to use his surveillance prowess to get his revenge on the pesky kids across the street. I feel like I've seen a lot of movies in the past few years that offer up pro-surveillance narratives – Deja Vu (2006) and Next (2007) spring to mind – and this might be the most disturbing thing about Disturbia. Oh well, at least the neighbor wasn't Muslim...

Friday, September 7, 2007

Jeff Bridges in Jagged Edge

I know what you mean, Andrew, and I wondered myself; but I simply couldn't think of a fifth male whom I thought was better. I find Bridges' performance fascinating and disturbing: is it the actor's charm we respond to, or the character's? (AND HERE BE SPOILERS) Has he very successfully shielded his guilt from us, or is he genuinely deluded? That paradox holds me, and, though it isn't an obvious contender for one of the performances of the decade (I had Jack Nicholson in Terms of Endearment, Klaus Maria Brandauer in Out of Africa and William Hickey in Prizzi's Honor on my shortlist with Bridges), his underplaying and charisma do the job for me (I think).

As for the movie itself, I don't quite agree that it's Basic Instinct lite. Jagged Edge takes itself more seriously, and has a very effective thriller tone which makes me queasy. Its most powerful moments (e.g. the opening murder, the cross-examination of the training instructor by Glenn Close, and the ingenuity of the subplot involving the woman who was almost raped a year or so earlier) aren't matched by the later movie.

My one big problem with Jagged Edge is that, having carefully constructed its plot and successfully managed our changing allegiances for most of its running time, it gives up ten minutes before the end with Close's foolish response to the finding of the typewriter, her 'everything's okay' moment on the 'phone at her home existing purely so the final confrontation can occur. Even though I prefer Basic Instinct, and admire and enjoy its mise en scène, its general politically incorrect hi-jinks, and the strut of Sharon Stone's performance, Jagged Edge is a movie which I feel continues to hold up well.

And besides... 'He was trash!'

Code of the Virgin

I wonder if this was a coincidence or not...

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Death Sentence (2007)

Death Sentence is the latest Kevin Bacon opus. It's a grim, nasty vigilante/revenge film that's a lot of fun if you like that kind of thing. Bacon stars as Nick Hume, a risk assessor whose rational world view and comfortable, middle-class existence is shattered when his son is the victim of a random killing at a ghetto gas station. He decides to take matters into his own hands by killing the gangbanger responsible for his son's death, but things don't quite turn out the way that he had imagined. The movie awkwardly tries to make some kind of half-assed statement about class difference, but it's a pretty vacuous and illogical film at the end of the day. It is, however, quite gripping and pleasingly bleak: unlike most movies these days, this is not a film where you should expect a happy ending with the dysfunctional family getting back together in recognition of the fact that they really love one another. It also features a strong, off-the-deep-end central performance from Bacon; and John Goodman adds some enjoyably theatrical gusto to his poorly written character.

The film is mostly aiming to resurrect the style and attitude of seventies-era vigilante/revenge cinema: e.g. Walking Tall (1973), Death Wish (1974), Taxi Driver (1976), Rolling Thunder (1977), Walking the Edge (1980), Death Wish II (1981), Ms. 45 (1981), Vigilante (1983). In particular, it is based on the sequel to the novel of Death Wish; the final sequence of the film borrows rather too heavily from from Taxi Driver; and the poster art takes its cues from Walking Tall (click image to enlarge). The pleasures of Death Sentence in this regard are of a second-hand nature, but it got me thinking a little bit about why I find these films pleasurable in the first place.

Vigilante and revenge films are often labeled right-wing fantasies: the individualistic, macho, white male protects what is his through violent revenge. The justice system is ineffective and operates like a nanny state for criminals, giving the bad guys more rights than the victims. This is certainly true of many of the aforementioned revenge films, but I think the politics of these films go deeper than this surface reading. In many ways, they are all modern westerns. The western as a genre usually focused on the tension between a lawless frontier and a building of civilization. Different westerns propose different interpretations of how those tensions played out in the foundational myths of America. For example, the final shot of The Searchers – arguably the most famous shot of any western – has John Wayne walking away from the camera and out into the wilderness, with the shot framed through an open doorway. In other words, our point-of-view is from inside the house, from within civilization; Wayne has proven by this point that he has no place within, and must take his place on the outside of civilization instead.

In vigilante/revenge movies, a similar set of tensions form the core of the narratives, only now we are in the present day. The laws and rules of civilization are presented as having failed us; the police protect the criminals. The lone vigilante, usually a mild-mannered, middle-class guy who's been playing by the rules until the rules have failed him, is a figure who snaps and comes to embody the pre-civilized qualities of the animal or the gunslinger or the warrior. He enters a heterotopic space on the outskirts of the civilized world, and he represents a return of the things that middle-class American society has repressed. He becomes a fierce beast demanding some kind of moral center in a society that's gone out-of-whack. (It is perhaps no coincidence that these films have mostly been popular during corrupt Republican presidencies!)

Death Sentence
is a good example of this tradition, with Bacon's rational world view slowly unraveling, revealing his flaws as a father and husband, as well as his inner animal. I think it is this set of tensions that interests me in revenge movies. Even in the revenge films that skew more to the right in their politics, this basic set of tensions still leaves ample ambiguity and richness for liberal lefties like myself to enjoy.

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

It Begins

So far so good for my prophecy of a strong finish to the year in movies. I caught two over the holiday weekend...

I got hooked into this movie early on, not so much from the fact that the action starts right away but because I quickly liked the lead characters played by Russell Crowe and Christian Bale. Your opinion of the movie will probably be shaped by how you feel about them as well, because the plot certainly isn't a mystery. The trajectory of the story is pretty obvious from early on, even if you haven't seen the trailers. The real trick is that the movie is still able to stay suspenseful and tense. In addition to the leading performances, Ben Foster is memorable as Crowe's 2nd in command. The dialogue is strong, and there are some cool action sequences. My only complaint is with the finale, in which believability flies out the window in far too many ways. But this wasn't enough to rob me of my overall enjoyment of the movie.


IMDB lists the year of this film as 2006, so I am not sure if the film has already played on the other side of the pond ages ago, but it was recently released in L.A. "Deep Water" tells the story of Donald Chowhurst, an amateur sailor who entered a race in 1968 to be the first man to sail around the world alone without stopping. I knew nothing about what would happen next before seeing the film, and I highly recommend being as ignorant as I was if at all possible. One of the great strengths of the movie is the deliberate manner of revealing plot progression and character development in a most suspenseful manner. There is also a wide scope of human emotions powerfully captured in the tight 90-minute movie. The filmmakers make great use of all sorts of media to keep the storytelling varied and engaging. But most importantly, Donald Chowhurst is a compelling figure, the kind of guy who would clearly capture the fascination of Werner Herzog. I really enjoyed "Deep Water", and would also love to see a Herzog dramatization somewhere down the road.

Saturday, September 1, 2007

Movies in 2007 A.D.

I recently told Andrew that 2007 was a good year for movies, but then realized I only said that because I happened to see two good movies in one week (“Rescue Dawn” and “Sunshine”). At first I backpedaled from the statement, but I now assert that I might have been prescient in that observation. I think there are some very promising movies on the horizon…

3:10 to Yuma
(Opening September 7th, although I got tickets for a preview screening tomorrow)

I don’t know why, but I am in the mood for a Western. I also like Christian Bale, and have to admit that Russell Crowe is usually pretty good. I just watched the DVD of “The Insider” last night. That’s a damn good movie, and Michael Mann is a solid director.

Eastern Promises
(Opening September 14th)

Another David Cronenberg movie with Viggo Mortensen dealing with crime families. And Naomi Watts is in this one.

The Darjeeling Limited
(Opening September 29th)

I like Wes Anderson, although “The Life Aquatic” was kind of uneven and made me think he might be better when he doesn’t have the budget to do whatever he wants. Still, I am interested to check out anything Anderson does.

American Gangster
(Opening Nov 2nd)

Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe are pretty dope leads, it looks like an epic crime movie, and Ridley Scott will be trying to make up for the lameness of “A Good Year”.

No Country for Old Men

(Opening November 9th)

The second I saw the trailer for this movie, I texted Andrew from the theater with, “The Coens are back!” This looks like “Blood Simple” territory. So excited!!

Youth Without Youth

(Opening December 14th)

I miss Tim Roth and am excited to see him in the lead, as well as what Coppola is up to.

Sweeny Todd
(Opening December 21st)

I have seen this show live and it is really dark, particularly for a musical. Tim Burton directing and Johnny Depp starring definitely makes me curious.

There Will Be Blood
(Opening December 26th)

A new P.T.A. movie. Daniel Day-Lewis as the bad guy. Yessssssssss.

Friday, August 31, 2007

Edward's Best of the 1980s

1. The Shining (1980)

Even after multiple viewings, The Shining still frightens and haunts me. Jack Nicholson plays a struggling writer who takes a job as caretaker at a hotel in the mountains during the isolated winter months. When he moves his wife (Shelley Duvall) and young son (Danny Lloyd) in, things start to go very, very wrong. I've never been a fan of Kubrick, but I love this film immensely: the controlled directorial style allows the natural horrors of the situation to seep through. And given that the film is about a writer's paranoia, it's only right that we have ample time to become as convinced as he is that malign forces are at work in the labyrinthine hotel. Nicholson is splendid, both fearsome and touching, yet always entertaining, while Duvall is just superb as his strung-out wife, a good woman driven to the brink of breakdown by her terrifying husband while trying to do what she can to save her disturbed, 'shining' son. Almost every scene in this film is great, yet the set-pieces are never pretentious or artificial, and always move the story along effectively.

2. The Stunt Man (1980)

Okay, okay, okay, it's in my top ten! I admit it, this was not an easy choice to make. There were half a dozen movies which could have been here instead, all of which probably give me more guaranteed pleasure with each viewing. But The Stunt Man is a unique film, with unique pleasures. Richard Rush has had a halting, marginal career, but with this film, he did his bit: it's the work of a lifetime. Steve Railsback's harassed, paranoid Viet vet is put through his paces - and then some - by Peter O'Toole's dictatorial director, who is willing to use anyone and everyone - including leading lady Barbara Hershey - in his quest to make his war film. How the stunt man negotiates these supremely choppy and unenviable waters makes for a terrifically involving story, with no end of surprising and offbeat directorial coups. Bonus points for the dog licking its balls in the opening sequence, the night-time scene between Railsback and Hershey before the big final day, and especially Dominic Frontiere's rascally score, which gets endless mileage out of its witty theme tune.

3. The Great Muppet Caper (1981)

Jim Henson's artistic sensibility was perfectly suited to kids, his work full of classic entertainment - songs, silly voices, and sweet, sophisticated humour - while also having educational value and a gentle morality. The Muppet films were a very successful extension of the TV series, and The Great Muppet Caper is a really excellent movie for all ages. Kermit, Fozzie and Gonzo are reporters sent to London to cover the theft of fashionista Lady Holliday's diamond. She (Diana Rigg) is a grande dame par excellence, but unaware that her layabout brother (Charles Grodin) is the thief. And of course, Miss Piggy falls for Kermit... What seals the deal with this film is the terrific cluster of songs, composed by Joe Raposo in the style of classical American showbiz entertainment - among other things, this film deserves to be seen as a top movie musical. I loved it and watched it repeatedly when I was a kid, didn't see it for twenty years, and now, on seeing it again, realise that it has stood the test of time.

4. Stop Making Sense (1984)

I was a little surprised that this didn't make Andrew's top ten, but perhaps it was close? For me, this concert movie, directed by Jonathan Demme, and with not a little artistic input from David Byrne, is so comprehensively put together that it transcends its 'live' origins to create a series of abstract musical puzzles, perfectly ordered and paced, and totally satisfying, intellectually and musically. Byrne makes a great front man, the rest of the band plays tight - and really enjoy the music they create - and the makers work wonders with camera angles, lighting, and off-the-cuff filming. So strong a film it is, I would wager that you don't need to be a Talking Heads fan to enjoy it.

5. Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (1985)

Paul Schrader's best film, and one which deserved to do better - or even some - business. It's a biopic of Japan's famous post-war writer Yukio Mishima, told in three parallel strands - naturalistic recreation of the last day of his life, black and white account of his early years, and lush, multi-coloured recreations of scenes from some of his novels. This structure is fitting for someone who sought, his whole life, to unite his work and his desire for action, which, here, he finally does, in the 'harmony of pen and sword'. Helped by his reserved leading man Ken Ogata, Schrader presents Mishima as a multi-faceted and conflicted character - prolific author, celebrity, traditionalist, lover of Western culture, closeted homosexual and militarised, self-styled outcast. The visual surprises and glories are matched by Philip Glass's iconic score - those wonderfully ominous cells of music - and amazing production and costume design. It's one of the best films about the pleasure and pain of being a writer, and a very literate, unconventional biopic.

6. Come and See (1985)

This is a movie which has a mighty and awesome reputation, wholly deserved. Elem Klimov's final film (he felt he had nothing more to say after having made it) is an account of the Nazi stranglehold on Belarus in the Second World War. This terrible period is seen through the eyes of an adolescent boy, Florya (Alexei Kravchenko, billed as A. Kravchenko), who has run away to join the guerrillas and gets an abrupt, and unforgettable, lesson in the art of war. Klimov anchors the movie in a firm reality, then embellishes it with surrealistic touches which increase our identification with Florya's experience - the high-pitched whistle on the soundtrack when the boy is rendered temporarily deaf by bombing, the toppling trees, the wade through the swamp, and the whole second half of the film, which, with its extended Nazi atrocities, is as terrifying and devastating as movies can get. But it's ironic that when a movie actually earns those overused epithets, it does so by showing how futile such descriptions are; Come and See just needs to be seen. The only thing about it which will lift your spirits is the excellence of the moviemaking itself.

7. Crazy Love (1987)

Young Belgian writer-director Dominique Deruddere made a splash with this, his first feature film. Adapted from writings by Charles Bukowski, it's the three-part story of a young man's coming of age, and is a movie which shines a pallid light on the gulf between the ideal of love and the messy, real thing. As a young boy, Harry Voss (Geert Hunaerts) falls for a blonde beauty on the silver screen and is then traumatised by his older friend's initiation into the world of dating and, ahem, girls. A few years later, and suffering from a monstrous case of acne, Harry (now played by Josse de Pauw) finds himself the outcast at the end-of-year disco, but desperate to make an impression on the school sweetheart. Lastly, as an alcoholic adult, Harry must confront his demons when he finds the beautifully preserved corpse of what is probably his ideal woman. By turns funny, farcical, macabre and downright tragic, Crazy Love is a striking and profound movie, a triumph of Belgian cinema, which rides its disturbing sexual and emotional shenanigans on a wave of heartfelt compassion.

8. Moonstruck (1987)

Whatever happened to the romantic comedy genre seems to stem from when they became commonly known as romcoms. Because these days, I never see a good one. Notting Hill is about the best we've had, and it's sweet, silly and, I suppose, romantic, but back in 1987 we had Moonstruck, and thank goodness we still have it today. Plot is simple: lonesome Italian-American widow Loretta (Cher) gets engaged to mamma's boy Johnny (Danny Aiello) and then promptly falls for his estranged brother Ronny (Nicolas Cage). What's a girl to do? Well, it would be helpful to notice the big full moon hovering over Brooklyn, which seems to be setting off Loretta's whole family on various romantic escapades, while Loretta herself has 'those ugly greys' removed from her hair, gets dolled up and goes to La Bohème at the Met with the man she's trying not to fall in love with! Moonstruck, superbly written by John Patrick Shanley and effervescently directed by Norman Jewison, is a magical movie, chock-full of witty lines, demonstrative performances and affairs of the heart. It's a movie imbued with the spirit of the commedia all'Italiana, and Cher proves herself an actress worthy of the status of Sophia Loren.

9. Nuovo Cinema Paradiso (1988)

Writer-director Giuseppe Tornatore had made only one film before this catapulted him to international attention. It's easy to see why it lapped up audiences: in its tale of the friendship across the years between a young boy and a cinema projectionist at a small cinema in Sicily, it tells a simple, touching story, while also paying tribute to the very act of movie-going. But Nuovo Cinema Paradiso strikes a deeper chord than mere adulation: it builds its story on a bedrock of disappointment, missed opportunities, loss and regret, which goes a long way to counterbalancing the sentimentality for the provincial movie house of the title, a balance sustained by Ennio and Andrea Morricone's luscious but aching orchestral score. It's important to note that these qualities come through much louder and clearer in the director's cut, which flopped upon initial release, was edited down into the Oscar-winning extravaganza everybody knows, and was then re-released to more acclaim in the '90s. There are charming and effective performances from the three actors who play central character Totò: Salvatore Cascio as the young boy, Marco Leonardi as the lovelorn youth, and Jacques Perrin as the celebrated, but unhappy filmmaker in middle age; while Philippe Noiret plays the cantankerous but always loveable projectionist, whose wisdom might be summed up as 'cruel to be kind'.

10. Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989)

Woody Allen was, for me, the filmmaker of the decade, with pretty much all of his films from this period being a cut above the norm. Broadway Danny Rose, The Purple Rose of Cairo and Hannah and Her Sisters are all yapping at the coat-tails (or pasta-covered table cloth) of my '80s top ten; Crimes and Misdemeanors trumps them all and remains for me, with Annie Hall, Allen's best work. It's a film which takes on a weighty issue - how to have morals in a godless universe - and tackles it through two stories in one: a dark and dramatic tale of a philandering opthamologist (Martin Landau) who is toying with having his mistress (Anjelica Huston) bumped off and a witty love triangle involving Woody Allen's hapless documentary filmmaker, Mia Farrow's sweet and pragmatic production manager and Alan Alda's pompous television magnate. Through juggling these narrative strands, Allen creates a fully-rounded portrait of life's ups and downs, and presides over uniformly excellent performances from his extensive cast. And, given that his concentration on the bourgeoisie has attracted some criticism over the years, this film, like the later Match Point, uses its privileged characters in order to comment on the corrupting nature of power and money, and the necessary endurance of the opposites.

Ten performances of the decade

Men:

A. Kravchenko in Come and See (1985)
Jeff Bridges in Jagged Edge (1985)
Jon Voight in Runaway Train (1985)
Sean Connery in The Name of the Rose (1986)
James Woods in Salvador (1986)

Women:

Shelley Duvall in The Shining (1980)
Diane Keaton in Reds (1981)
Meryl Streep in Silkwood (1983)
Sigourney Weaver in Aliens (1986)
Cher in Moonstruck (1987)

Friday, August 24, 2007

Late Homework 3: Ed's Performances Redux

Well, I can't resist! As you guys have chosen five men and five women for each decade, I figured I'd better add to my measly three! So here is a recap of my performance picks from the 2000s and the 1990s with the choices upped to five apiece. My '80s performances will appear with my top ten list in a few days' time.

2000s:

Men:

Michael Douglas in Wonder Boys (2000)
Anderson Ballesteros in Our Lady of the Assassins (2000)
Olivier Gourmet in Le Fils (2002)
Morgan Marinne in Le Fils (2002)
Maurice Bénichou in Caché (2005)

Women:

Charlotte Rampling in Under the Sand (2000)
Laura Elena Harring in Mulholland Drive (2001)
Naomi Watts in Mulholland Drive (2001)
Isabelle Huppert in The Piano Teacher (2001)
Julie Delpy in Before Sunset (2004)

1990s:

Men:

Gérard Depardieu in Cyrano de Bergerac (1990)
Al Pacino in Dick Tracy (1990)
Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven (1992)
Sean Penn in Carlito's Way (1993)
Robert Forster in Jackie Brown (1997)

Women:

Jodie Foster in The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
Judy Davis in Husbands and Wives (1992)
Meryl Streep in The Bridges of Madison County (1995)
Judi Dench in Shakespeare in Love (1998)
Julia Roberts in Notting Hill (1999)

Late Homework 2: Later Homework


Ten Performances of the 2000s:


The Gentlemen:

  • Michael Nyqvist – Together (2000)
  • Chiwetel Ejiofor – Dirty Pretty Things (2002)
  • Thomas Jane – Stander (2003)
  • Jack Black – School of Rock (2003)
  • Michael Shannon – Bug (2006)
The Ladies:
  • Molly Parker – The Center of the World (2001)
  • Naomi Watts – Mulholland Dr. (2001)
  • Charlize Theron – Monster (2003)
  • Julie Delpy – Before Sunset (2004)
  • Catherine Keener – The 40 Year Old Virgin (2005)

Ten Performances of the 1990s:

The Ladies:
  • Jodie Foster – The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
  • Irène Jacob – Three Colors: Red (1994)
  • Radha Mitchell – High Art (1998)
  • Samantha Morton – Jesus' Son (1999)
  • Melora Walters – Magnolia (1999)
The Gentlemen:
  • Tim Roth – Reservoir Dogs (1992)
  • Sean Penn – Carlito’s Way (1993)
  • Jeffrey Wright – Basquiat (1996)
  • Robert Forster – Jackie Brown (1997)
  • Don Cheadle – Boogie Nights (1997)

Late Homework

I have been lax on my homework, not including favorite performances with my lists. So here are my top ten favorite performance per decade, to catch up on the three released lists...

Top Ten Performances of the 2000s

The Men:

Terrence Howard - Hustle and Flow (2005)
Chiwetel Ejiofor - Dirty Pretty Things (2002)
Daniel Day-Lewis - Gangs of New York (2002)
Fred Willard - Best in Show (2000)
Mark Ruffalo - You Can Count on Me (2000)

The Women:

Kate Winslet - Little Children (2006)
Reese Witherspoon - Walk the Line (2005)
Rachel McAdams - Wedding Crashers (2005)
Naomi Watts - Mulholland Drive (2001)
Ellen Burstyn - Requiem for a Dream (2000)

Top Ten Performances of the 1990s

The Women:

Melora Walters - Magnolia (1999)
Genevieve Bujold - The House of Yes (1997)
Catherine Keener - Living in Oblivion (1995)
Natalie Portman - The Professional (1994)
Marcia Gay Harden - Miller’s Crossing (1990)

The Men:

Jude Law - The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)
Ed Norton - American History X (1998)
Sean Penn - Carlito’s Way (1993)
Jeff Bridges - Fearless (1993)
Jack Lemmon - Glengarry Glen Ross (1992)

Top Ten Performances of the 1980s

The Men:

Billy Zane - Dead Calm (1989)
Kevin Kline - A Fish Called Wanda (1988)
Alan Rickman - Die Hard (1988)
Paul Newman - The Color of Money (1986)
Jack Nicholson - The Shining (1980)

The Women:

Nicole Kidman - Dead Calm (1989)
Ellen Barkin - Sea of Love (1989)
Susan Sarandon - Bull Durham (1988)
Sigourney Weaver - Aliens (1986)
Jennifer Jason Leigh - Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982)

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Sam's Best of the 1980s

Blade Runner (1982)

This film spectacularly creates a vivid future, telling a compelling story in addition to pushing the boundaries of special effects. Not only do the effects stand the test of time, but the landscape shots are also some of the most memorable. It is rare that all the aspects of a futuristic world are so well developed, and that makes this dystopic vision of Los Angeles especially affecting. The ensemble cast is great, especially in the charismatic performance by Rutger Hauer.

This Is Spinal Tap (1984)

This movie gets funnier with every viewing. This is one of the best kinds of parodies, made by people who truly love the subject that they mock. There are so many memorable performances, from the leads to the cameos. The songs work as fun music while also being hilarious. The dialogue in this film is among the most quotable of all time: “The review for ‘Shark Sandwich’ was merely a two-word review which simply read ‘Shit Sandwich’.”

After Hours (1985)

This film is a very dark comedy that I have found extremely influential. Simply put, the moral of the story is to be careful what you wish for. Griffin Dunne leads an extremely boring and sheltered life, and decides to mix it up and have a little adventure. Like Tom Cruise will later attempt in “Eyes Wide Shut”, Dunne sets off one night into New York on a sexually disastrous odyssey. The city turns into a nightmarish prison where Dunne interacts with a parade of insane characters. Scorsese’s use of the camera is energetic, and he excels at using visuals to increase the tension.

Better Off Dead (1985)

This movie manages to make fun of 80s teen comedies while simultaneously being one of the best of them. It has an extremely dark premise: John Cusack’s character is dumped by his high school girlfriend, which leads him to spend much of the movie trying to kill himself. In one scene Cusack is doing a problem on the chalkboard in math class, and instead daydreams and draws pictures of the time he had a pregnancy scare with his ex. The math teacher holds him after class, presumably to punish him, but instead asks permission to take Cusack’s ex-girlfriend on a date! There is a fantastic performance by Curtis Armstrong as Cusack’s best friend, and he is even funnier here then in his more famous turn in “Revenge of the Nerds” as Booger. “I’ve been going to this high school for seven and a half years. I’m no dummy.”

Brazil (1985)

This movie is so ambitiously creative. Despite all obstacles, Terry Gilliam created a film that feels like his fears and dreams are transferred right onto the screen. The movie is an exceptional satire of bureaucracy and the struggles of the individual in a conformist society. In the end, the hero is only able to escape by going insane. The conclusion, like the rest of the movie, is both memorable and brilliantly disconcerting.

Full Metal Jacket (1987)

When I first encountered this film I was primarily dazzled by the boot camp sequence. The shot compositions and camera movements are exceptional, as are the performances. R. Lee Ermey is captivating as the drill instructor, giving one of the most memorable performances in cinematic history. The trainees are specifically drawn across the board, with a fine performance by Matthew Modine as the thoughtful and humanly flawed Private Joker. But the most haunting aspect is the disintegration of Vincent D’Onofrio’s Private Pyle. Upon repeat viewings, my appreciation of the Vietnam portion has grown as well. I love the metaphor of the sniper sequence for the entire war, with more and more lives being futilely sacrificed.

No Way Out (1987)

This is a fun and intricately plotted thriller. The story is beautifully structured to trap Kevin Costner’s character, and the joy of the film is watching him scramble to stay ahead of a seemingly inescapable tightening noose. Gene Hackman is a charismatic villain who is having an affair with the same woman as Costner. The film feels very Hitchcockian, with a wrongfully accused innocent man scrambling for survival and to find the truth. The movie also contains a wonderful twist ending.

Die Hard (1988)

This is my favorite summer blockbuster. Great characters, an interesting plot, dazzling action sequences, and quotable one-liners. Bruce Willis is at his smart-assed best since making his name in “Moonlighting”. The movie benefits greatly from the intelligent and witty performance by Alan Rickman, who demonstrates how a highly charismatic villain can engage the audience and strengthen a film.

Midnight Run (1988)

The premise is great, the plot is well-structured, and the dialogue is smart and funny, but the movie stands out because of the amazing performances by Robert De Niro and Charles Grodin. De Niro is exceptional as the beaten down bounty hunter, and Grodin gives a career-best performance highlighted by perfect deadpan reactions. Beyond the comedy, the characters also have depth and heart that makes the audience care about the outcome. Overall, the most memorable aspect of the film is how much fun it is.

Shoot to Kill (1988)

At 61, Sydney Poitier may have seemed an unlikely action hero, but he is at his most cool and charismatic as the leading FBI agent. The movie opens with a very dark sequence, where Poitier leads a negotiation with a jewel thief who has taken a hostage. Under Poitier’s command everything goes to shit, with the hostage being killed and the thief getting away. But this only leads to an obsession for Poitier to get his man, and the movie proceeds with two thrilling fish-out-of-water manhunting sequences. Poitier teams up with a mountain guide played by Tom Berenger, and they are a great odd couple. The two are forced to work together to capture both the thief and his new hostage, Berenger’s girlfriend. The movie has amazing action set pieces, is constantly suspenseful, and yet somehow manages to include comedic interplay between Poitier and Berenger as well.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Andrew's Best of the 1980s

Needless to say, I think the next few decades are going to be particularly tough: so many great films to choose from, so many tough cuts to make. One absentee from my eighties list is worthy of special note, however, as it was the decade's single greatest cinematic achievement: Kieslowski's Dekalog (1989). I chose to omit it from the list because it's technically a television mini-series.

  1. The Stunt Man (1980)
    I love Richard Rush's films. The Stunt Man took him nine years and one heart attack to complete, and it pretty much ended his career, but it was worth it! Steve Railsback is terrific as an on-the-lam Vietnam vet who gets enlisted as a stunt man in a war film being directed by the megalomaniacal Eli Cross (Peter O'Toole, never better). He remains in a continual state of paranoia about whether O'Toole is trying to kill him to get a stunt finished, creating a compelling metaphor for the ways in which trust and domination play out in personal relationships. The Stunt Man is also one of the great films about filmmaking: fantasy and reality get blurred and the insanities and egomanias of the Hollywood system are skewered by Rush with extreme prejudice. It's a shame that there aren't more action movies as smart, as sophisticated and as idiosyncratic as this one. It's also a shame that Rush has only completed one film since – Color of Night (1994) – a film which also caused him a heart attack.

  2. The Shining (1980)
    This is my favorite Kubrick film and is one of only a few Stephen King adaptations that I really like. It’s also one of the few films that still gives me the chills after all these years: "Come play with us, Danny!" If The Stunt Man is one of the great films about the insanity of filmmaking, The Shining is one of the great films about the insanity of writing, with the Overlook Hotel becoming an analogue for the inside of Jack Torrance’s head. Kubrick’s precise, mathematical approach to mise-en-scène and editing creates a genuinely unsettling atmosphere, and the Steadicam has never been put to better use. It's also a surprisingly humorous film with some great, quirky dialogue – especially any scene with Scatman Crothers: "Larry, just between you and me, we got a very serious problem with the people taking care of the place. They turned out to be completely unreliable assholes."

  3. Cutter's Way (1981)
    A film about impotence, apathy, narcissism and responsibility, that asks whether our actions give our lives meaning. Jeff Bridges plays Richard Bone, an apathetic gigolo who witnesses a man disposing of a dead girl in a dark alley. He is quite willing to dismiss and forget about what he saw, but his friend Alex Cutter (John Heard) has other ideas. Cutter is an embittered, alcoholic Vietnam veteran who's missing an eye, a leg, and an arm, and he develops an obsessive drive to prove that a prominent local businessman was the murderer. It's a remarkable, Ahabesque performance from Heard, turning the film into a fascinating fusion of Chinatown and Moby Dick. No less impressive, in much more low-key performances, are Bridges as the terminally passive Bone and Lisa Eichhorn as Cutter's depressed, alcoholic wife. The film also features an awesome score from Jack Nitzsche that uses a combination of glass harmonica, zither and electric strings to haunting effect. Released the same year as some higher profile revivalist noir films – such as Body Heat and The Postman Always Rings Twice – I think Cutter's Way got lost in the mix and has never really received the acclaim it so richly deserves. It is modern-day noir at its best.

  4. Knightriders (1981)
    By the end of the 1970s, George Romero had established himself as one of the preeminent directors of the horror genre, having made such groundbreaking films as Night of the Living Dead (1968), Martin (1976) and Dawn of the Dead (1978). For his first film of the 1980s, Romero confounded expectations by delivering a lengthy, melancholic melodrama about a traveling group who stage Renaissance fairs in which they dress up as knights and joust on motorcycles. It might be the best film on the subject of sixties countercultural idealism entering the Reagan era: the group is a living anachronism with a strong code of ethics modeled on King Arthur's Camelot, and tensions spill over when a handful of the knights split from their king (Ed Harris) and "sell out" to corporate show business. Harris is superlative in his first leading role; the rest of the cast is made up of Romero's stock troupe of players and they are all excellent, especially Tom Savini as the treacherous Morgan.

  5. Q (1982)
    Made at the tail end of the golden age of drive-in and grindhouse cinema, Q is a satirical, low-budget monster movie about New York City being terrorized by Quetzlcoatl, the winged serpent Aztec god. Michael Moriarty stars as Jimmy Quinn, a petty crook who thinks he might have a shot at the big time when he discovers Quetzlcoatl's nest at the top of the Chrysler Building. Only exploitation auteur Larry Cohen would have the balls to film a full scale monster movie in Manhattan without permits – including a massive gun battle at the top of a skyscraper! The results are an absolute blast and Moriarty's extraordinary performance as a beaten-down loser opportunistically looking for a "Nixon-like pardon" gives the movie an unexpected depth and poignancy.

  6. Videodrome (1983)
    This list would be incomplete without a film from David Cronenberg, who was one of the few seventies directors to do consistently great work throughout the eighties, including Scanners (1981), The Dead Zone (1983), The Fly (1986) and Dead Ringers (1988). Videodrome was Cronenberg's last Canadian film before heading to Hollywood, and it stars James Woods (at his sleazy best) as Max Renn, a cable television operator who becomes obsessed with a broadcast that is comprised entirely of torture and murder. It's a cold, brutal, hallucination of a film in which Cronenberg takes Marshall McLuhan's view of media as an extension of man to its logical, horrific conclusion ... paving the way for the cyberpunk movement that would blossom in the following decade. The film's depiction of the cathode ray tube as a cancerous tumor is a theme echoed in my next pick...

  7. The King of Comedy (1983)
    This is Taxi Driver re-imagined as a comedy of manners and it's a terminal, spastic piece of cinema, cynical in the extreme and intent on making its audience squirm. I love it! It's a dark portrait of passive hostility and of a culture that has lost all sense of priorities and values, and it seems more prescient with every passing year. In Scorsese's eyes we are all Rupert Pupkins, and the motto "I'd rather be king for a night than schmuck for a lifetime" prophetically sums up the direction in which television culture would go over the following decades. Jerry Lewis is cast wonderfully against type as a self-serious, humorless grump; Sandra Bernhard is volatile and appropriately excruciating; and it's probably the last movie in which De Niro really made an effort. Now that Scorsese has presumably got the Oscar chasing out of his system, I'd love to see him make another black comedy like this.

  8. Trading Places (1983)
    Another comedy of manners and an uproarious take on 1930s social message films, updated for the Gordon Gekko era. Every line of dialogue is priceless – "Where is your bitches?" – and the cast is remarkable. Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd are so good that I can still forgive them for everything they have done since the nineties began, and special kudos should also go to Don Ameche and Ralph Bellamy as the slimy Duke brothers, Denholm Elliott as the butler, and Paul Gleason as the villainous Mr. Beaks. And, no, I've not forgotten about Jamie Lee Curtis or her boobies; no boy in the eighties ever could! I also love the gritty, earthy look of the film and the local Philadelphia flavor that it captures. John Landis was a comedic genius in the 1970s and 1980s, making a handful of timeless classics; Trading Places is not only his finest work, it's also my pick for the best film comedy of all time.

  9. Repo Man (1984)
    The cult film of the decade and a stunning debut for Alex Cox. A wild genre amalgam involving repo men, street punks, secret agents, Latin revolutionaries, Scientologists, ufologists, and a hippie mystic who are all on the hunt for a Chevy Malibu with dead aliens in the trunk that is being driven around East L.A. by a lobotomized scientist who invented the neutron bomb. It's an hilarious satire of Reagan era America and a cool time capsule of the 1980s West Coast punk scene. I feel a great affinity for Cox's representation of Los Angeles and I probably quote from this film more than any other (so I will refrain from doing so here). True, there is a strike against the film for kick starting Emilio Estevez's career ... but Cox did apologize for this later.

  10. Wings of Desire (1987)
    One of the most sublimely beautiful films ever made. Bruno Ganz is wonderful as an angel who falls in love with a trapeze artist and longs to be human, but Peter Falk steals the movie as a film star who was once an angel himself. Just about perfect in every way, and a fascinating document of a Germany on the verge of unification, two years before the wall came tumbling down. Avoid the Nicolas Cage remake at all costs.

Also, here are ten performances of note (five male, five female). I'm sure I've forgotten somebody, so this is by no means a definitive list:
  • Nicholas Worth, Don’t Answer the Phone! (1980)
  • Ed Harris, Knightriders (1981)
  • Michael Moriarty, Q (1982)
  • Christopher Walken, The Dead Zone (1983)
  • Harry Dean Stanton, Paris, Texas (1984)

  • Lisa Eichhorn, Cutter's Way (1981)
  • Jenny Agutter, An American Werewolf in London (1981)
  • Nastassja Kinski, Paris, Texas (1984)
  • Sigourney Weaver, Aliens (1986)
  • Michelle Pfeiffer, Married to the Mob (1988)

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Sam's Best of the 1990s

This was a tough assignment. The best of the 2000s list had over 2 years fewer films in it, and that made the 90s much harder to tackle. So many movies that I loved did not make the list.

Miller’s Crossing (1990)

From “Blood Simple” to “The Big Lebowski”, the Coen Brothers came out of the gates with 6 amazing films, and “Miller’s Crossing” is my favorite of them all. The plot is delightfully complicated, with no patience for an inattentive audience. The dialogue is brilliantly sharp and humorous, full of memorable and quotable dialogue: “You only got as big as I let you get and no bigger, and don’t forget it ever.” The ensemble acting is incredible. I believe that there are career-best performances from John Turturro, Jon Polito, Albert Finney, Gabriel Byrne, Marcia Gay Harden, and J.E. Freeman (yes, even better then his turn as Old Fred in “Tremors 4: The Legend Begins”). Steve Buscemi is also great, but my favorite of his performances is next on the list. The soundtrack is excellent, especially in the scoring by Coens’ favorite Carter Burwell. The cinematography by Barry Sonnenfeld is beautiful. He could have continued shooting and become one of the greats, but I guess “Wild Wild West” and “RV” couldn’t have directed themselves.

Reservoir Dogs (1992)

This is a brilliant first feature. My favorite aspect is how Tarantino took something as familiar as the heist picture, and made it feel so fresh and exciting by a bold structural choice: never showing the heist itself. Tarantino knows he can write good dialogue, and this movie contains some of his best. There are also amazing performances, which is bittersweet in that many of the actors have not been able to come close to duplicating this level of work since. Michael Madsen is a prime example, who is brilliant, charismatic, and terrifying. Harvey Keitel is also at his best, creating a character who remains likeable despite being so flawed in his decisions. Chris Penn, Lawrence Tierney, and Tim Roth are all strong. I think Steve Buscemi has the performance of a lifetime as Mr. Pink, the hyper, humorous, and witty weasel.

Shallow Grave (1994)

Back-to-back with another amazing debut feature. This partnership of Danny Boyle and Ewan McGregor demonstrated that they have the ability to bring out the best in each other. The premise is instantly relatable, with three friends interviewing for a new roommate. The audience is drawn in, and then must endure the torment of the disintegration of their friendships when the roommates betray each other after the new flatmate dies and leaves behind a suitcase full of cash. The tone is very dark and very funny. Boyle has masterful use of visuals and sounds to propel the story and keep the audience engaged.

Living in Oblivion (1995)


I really don’t know if this movie plays well with people who are not filmmakers. But for anyone who has been on a set and had to face the never-ending parade of events not going according to plan, of disasters striking, and of having to deal with all of this under immense pressure while being surrounded by people mostly falling within the range of eccentric to insane, then this movie hits very close to home. Although often painful, the film is always hysterical. Steve Buscemi, Katherine Keener, and Dermot Mulroney are great. James LeGros is a stand-out playing a thinly veiled version of Brad Pitt, who director Tom DiCillo struggled with in his previous film “Johnny Suede”.

Bound (1996)

The third debut feature on my list, and the second from a team of filmmaking brothers. Like “Reservoir Dogs”, this film also draws from the familiar genres of the heist and gangster pictures. And they similarly make a choice that makes the whole experience feel fresh, having both the protagonist and the femme fatale be women. Pre-“Matrix” franchise, the Wachowski brothers are already demonstrating their excellence with visual storytelling. The plot is tight, and the characters are distinct and charismatic from top to bottom.

Boogie Nights (1997)


This is an epic production by an ambitious auteur. The first shot is a bold and confident bit of filmmaking, with an impossibly dexterous camera in sync with tightly choreographed performances, all the while offering great acting and a beautiful look. The movie remains ambitious throughout, and the ensemble cast is united in a perfect storm of talent at the top of their game.

U-Turn (1997)

Film noir is all about style, with its bold camera positions and angles, its use of light and shadow, soundtrack, narrative structure, and over-the-top characters. Oliver Stone excels in these categories, and he created one of my favorite neo-noirs. All these excesses are playful and enjoyable, but more importantly feel justified in the increasingly unstable state of Sean Penn’s character. Penn is fantastic as the smart-talking protagonist who is born to lose. The ensemble cast is hilariously eccentric, with standout performances by Nick Nolte, Powers Booth, Claire Danes, Billy Bob Thornton, and a scene-stealing turn by Joaquin Phoenix as Toby N Tucker (a.k.a. TNT). Sean Penn gets stuck in the web of Superior, AZ, and spends the rest of the movie futilely struggling to escape.

Croupier (1998)

This is a smart and stylish suspense film. Clive Owen has a breakthrough turn, overflowing with charisma and cool. There are so few charismatic and cool British people out there, I assumed Clive was a lock for being the new James Bond after this performance (hehe, lets see who is reading this). The premise is of a barely-employed writer going undercover as a casino dealer in order to research his new lead character. As the film goes on, the line between the writer and the character vacillates and blurs. There are fun and satisfying twists to the end.

Out of Sight (1998)

Elmore Leonard provides gripping stories and vivid characters in his novels that have proven fertile for film adaptations, and this is my personal favorite. And this includes having to overcome being anchored with J. Lo in a leading role. But Soderbergh is playful with narrative structure and the camera, and the atmosphere he creates is subsequently fresh and enjoyable. As mentioned the writing is tight, with a quickly paced story and uniquely voiced characters. George Clooney is strong in the lead, and there are memorable performances from Steve Zahn, Albert Brooks, Luis Guizman, and even a charismatic Ving Rhames. The show-stealer is Don Cheadle, who is both hilarious and menacing. Case in point: “Well, the man don’t just have to die, Foley. I mean, he could accidentally hurt himself falling down on something real hard, you know? Like a shiv, or my dick.”

South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut (1999)

If you turn your nose up at this choice, then you simply haven’t seen it. This movie is brilliant. The satire is vicious and spot-on. The comedy is hysterical. But the real genius is in the musical parodies. Trey Parker is a parody savant, totally nailing the spirit of every song (regardless of which diverse musical genre it is from) while warping the familiar associations with it.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

The Walker (2007)

Yesterday I saw The Walker, the new film written and directed by Paul Schrader which has opened in London this weekend. I've been a fan of Schrader's work ever since I saw American Gigolo for the second time, so naturally I was looking forward to The Walker. I was also tentatively intrigued by the fact that its synopsis made it sound like a retread of old Schrader territory - specifically, Gigolo itself.

The story centres around Carter Page III (Woody Harrelson), a 'walker' - a man who accompanies rich women to social functions. Being gay, he feels he never has to worry about becoming emotionally entangled with them, and so, when we meet him, he is sitting round a table playing cards, and exchanging louche gossip, with a handful of Washington D.C.'s finest 'ladies'. But when a woman with whom he is especially friendly, Lynn Lockner (Kristin Scott Thomas), discovers the slain body of her lover, Carter steps in to shield her from involvement, and thus becomes the prime suspect himself.

The character of Carter is, of course, redolent of upmarket LA rent boy Julian Kay, whom Richard Gere played so vividly in Gigolo, and the ensuing investigation into Carter's culpability, led by a sympathetic detective (Geff Francis) and an unsympathetic slimeball DA (William Hope), does indeed have echoes of Julian's involvement in the nasty death of one of his clients. For the first half hour of The Walker, I was wondering if Schrader didn't actually intend this new movie as an official remake of his earlier hit, so close are the narrative manoeuvres, the moral imperatives, and the preoccupations with the plastic glamour of the protagonists' worlds. But The Walker never feels like a rehash. One of the main reasons for this is the weirdly compelling performance by Harrelson, who, with a deliberately camp Southern drawl, is initially so clichéd a gay character that we figure there must be more to him than his claim that that 'I'm not naïve - I'm superficial'.

And, indeed, there is. For this superficial, ageing pinup puts his way of life on the line to shelter a dear friend from the prying eyes of the world's press, and the world's lawyers. There's also a potentially touching focus on Carter's more illustrious father and grandfather, who were giant businessmen in their day, and who have left Carter with a dizzy sense of inferiority that his homosexuality only reinforces. Harrelson's performance is abstract in the way it instantly nails a type and then lets the story reveal layers that we wouldn't have guessed at when we first met him. It's courageous, and perhaps foolish, to hang a whole movie on a performance like this, but I feel that The Walker survives it. And this is due largely to the film's style. Shot in 'Scope by cinematographer Chris Seager, The Walker has a clean, pin-sharp, brightly lit texture and a limpid mise en scène that can calm and absorb the more patient (or jaded) cinemagoer.

If there is one clear flaw, it's the rather sealed-off atmosphere: Washington's higher echelons seem to be represented by a handful of famous faces (a rather unconvincing Lauren Bacall, and the welcome, but underused, Lily Tomlin and Ned Beatty) and a few choice interiors. In this regard it brought to mind Clint Eastwood's Million Dollar Baby, another film which has little use (or energy) for visualizing the wider world. To add to this, we're never quite sure as to why Carter does risk so much; he claims not to be naïve but he's mature enough (in years and presumably in experience) to know the tenuous hold he actually has on the society he moves in. A fuller sense of what this society really would do to him if he betrayed it would have conveyed the hero's moral choices more robustly to the viewer.

And yet the film's tight focus adds to its dreamy, finely-tuned sense of itself, and demonstrates a craft both more easygoing and more exacting than that encountered in your standard cinematic scattershot aesthetics. Once again, Schrader as a writer-director deserves to be better-known than he is. The Walker, like its central character, is deceptively subtle and surprisingly satisfying. Already I'm looking forward to seeing it again.

Thursday, August 9, 2007

Edward's Best of the 1990s

1. Porte aperte (1990)

Italian filmmakers have got a lot of mileage out of their country's Fascist past (e.g. Visconti with The Damned, Bertolucci with The Spider's Stratagem and The Conformist), and Gianni Amelio's Porte aperte is a very strong addition to this interrogation of history. A sacked government official (Ennio Fantastichini) murders two of his former colleagues and then rapes and kills his wife. He is promptly put on trial, he flaunts his guilt, and nobody seems to care if he lives or dies. But one judge (Gian Maria Volontè) does care. This is a movie about whether a man will receive a fair trial, and how every man, no matter how deranged, deserves one. Volontè, who will always have a place in my heart for his wicked (and sexually magnetic) performances in Fistful of Dollars and For a Few Dollars More, here gives a touching portrayal of a man with the soul of Atticus Finch, and brings a kindly, intelligent presence to this grave and compassionate movie.

2. Unforgiven (1992)

David Webb Peoples wrote the script in the '70s, but Clint Eastwood sat on it until he felt he was mature enough (in years, and as a filmmaker) to make it. When he did, it was roundly acclaimed. And indeed, it is a towering modern Western, earthy and convincing, in which Eastwood's ageing, reformed gunslinger picks up the pistols and rides out on one last mission, to earn money for his ailing farm and his two little'uns. The film critiques the myths on which American history is built, the bloodthirsty taste for violence, and the arbitrariness of justice. It falters towards the end, when the final showdown between Eastwood and the vicious sheriff (Gene Hackman) perhaps has its cake and eats it, but the sombre achievement of the film remains, and features Eastwood's best-ever work as actor and director.

3. Pulp Fiction (1994)

With Jackie Brown indisputably on the list, and with other films (The Sheltering Sky, Dick Tracy, Husbands and Wives) clamouring for that tenth slot, Pulp Fiction was vulnerable. But in the end I went with it, because, when it first came out, I thought its screenplay was remarkable, and I still do. The way Tarantino structures the multiple stories, allowing each situation its own highs and set-pieces but unifying them into a totally satisfying experience, was one of the great (and repeatable) pleasures of '90s cinema. Eminently quotable lines ('I'm gonna get medieval on your ass!') stem from the mouths of a shining cast, including terrific performances from Samuel L. Jackson, Bruce Willis, Ving Rhames and a quite magical John Travolta. My parents (whom I all but forced to go and see what everyone was talking about) may not agree with me, and I'm not sure I agree with myself, but it is some kind of a classic.

4. Three Colours: Red (1994)

I agree with everything Andrew said: this is the crowning achievement of one of the great auteurs of the movies. Kieslowski's death was a shock, not just because he was only 54, but because he was in his creative prime and we weren't going to get any more films from the man who had directed (and co-written, with Krzysztof Piesiewicz) the likes of the Dekalog, The Double Life of Véronique, and the Three Colours trilogy. Red is a totally intricate, yet sensual and beautiful tale of two people, a model and a retired judge, who come together by chance. Kieslowski's benevolent worldview was never more clearly articulated, the cinematography (by Piotr Sobocinski, who also died young) is essential to the way the film works (what a collaboration!), and the last ten minutes are just sublime - with possibly my favourite final shot in the movies.

5. Everyone Says I Love You (1996)

Woody Allen attempts a musical - and pulls it off! A delightfully carefree, dotty romantic comedy, Everyone Says I Love You gains considerable charm from having its cast members take it in turns to break into song (and, sometimes, to dance). It doesn't matter that many of the performers (such as Edward Norton, Natalie Portman, Tim Roth and Allen himself) can't sing especially well; what this film has is heart, and tons of it. Alan Alda and Goldie Hawn (both of whom are very musical, by the way) play the parents of a group of madcap teens looking for love, while Goldie's ex, played by Woody, tries to woo Julia Roberts by hook or by crook. With its emphasis on three glorious romantic hotspots (New York, Paris and Venice), its wonderful wit ('Steffi, bring me a copy of my will, and an eraser') and the superb number set in the funeral parlour (the highlight of a picture full of highlights), Everyone Says I Love You is a feel-good movie through and through.

6. Jackie Brown (1997)

An adaptation of Elmore Leonard's novel Rum Punch, 'written and directed for the screen' by Quentin Tarantino, Jackie Brown is the young attention-grabber's third full-length feature film. And, given the ludicrous over-indulgence of the more recent Kill Bill saga, this represents arguably Tarantino's most mature and controlled work to date. With its use of '70s forgotten favourites like Pam Grier and Robert Forster, it also acts as a dramatically engaging illustration of Tarantino's cinephilia and his conjurer's skill with casting. Grier plays the eponymous flight attendant, desperate to escape her working life drudgery and disentangle herself from the clutches of suave gangster Ordell (Samuel L. Jackson, excellent as ever), while Forster is the bail bondsman who finds himself falling for her in one of the cinema's great middle-aged romances. The film features a terrific, fresh use of classic disco tunes, the sly cinematic references are everywhere (such as the opening shot's homage to The Graduate), and, most impressively, Tarantino's pacing allows us to become fully absorbed in Jackie's desire for a more fulfilling life.

7. Life is Beautiful (1997)

There are people who would laugh me out of town for including this film on the list, because Life is Beautiful, when it was released, was a love-it-or-hate-it movie: a comedy set in the Holocaust. But its detractors seemed defiantly blind to one thing: this film doesn't seek to wring laughs out of the concentration-camp setting, it is a drama about the use of humour (and inventiveness) to sustain the human spirit in the face of a waking nightmare. Ultimately it is about the will to survive. The movie divides neatly into two halves: 1) Roberto Benigni's hyperactive waiter woos Nicoletta Braschi's tentative sweetheart; 2) the young lovers, with their little boy, are carted off to the death camps and Benigni sets about shielding his son from the reality of the situation by pretending it's all a game. Well, I'll stop there, because either you need no more convincing, or you've heard enough!

8. Ring (1998)

Based on the bestselling novel by Kôji Suzuki, Ring is a modern horror classic - and an absolute nerve-shredder. Nanako Matsushima plays Reiko, a journalist investigating the deaths of a group of teens who had all claimed to see a disturbing video and receive a doom-laden 'phone call. When she herself happens upon the eerie film footage, Reiko, with her young son and her ex-husband, has only seven days to solve the mystery. And what a mystery it is. Director Hideo Nakata's major coup is his straightforward, and thus entirely plausible, juxtaposition of contemporary Japanese life and ancient folklore. My first viewing of this movie, at the ICA in London in 2000, remains one of the most unforgettable times I've ever had in the cinema. Every promise was fulfilled, every setup was paid off, and as the film moved relentlessly towards its conclusion, my eyes were out of their sockets on stalks! And each subsequent viewing has only served to enrich my appreciation. A masterpiece.

9. The Blair Witch Project (1999)

I disliked this film the first time I saw it. The hype surrounding it had grown to absurd proportions and my expectations were dashed. But one thing stuck, and it's what gets this film onto my list: its use of its own low-budget origins to tell its story. Writer-directors Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez have delivered the ultimate 'found' documentary - so it's absolutely right that it looks and sounds scuzzy, that the camerawork is rough, and that the footage doesn't make complete sense. The world of the film exists outside the confines of the frame, and the performances by the three unknowns capture a particularly recognisable youthful brand of naïveté. I haven't got a clue what actually happens (are there ghosts in the woods? is the Blair witch running rampant?) but, despite not considering myself a particular fan of the genre, I can't stop myself from making this the second horror movie on my '90s list.

10. South Park: Bigger Longer & Uncut (1999)

'I farted once on the set of Blue Lagoon!' Message movies were never as entertaining as this! When the South Park kids start using bad language as a result of seeing the Canadian Terrance & Phillip movie, their outraged parents wage war on Canada. In the Internet era, with adults unaware of the technological know-how of their offspring, South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut acts as a reminder to the generations to communicate better with each other. All well and good. It just so happens that this is also a great big-screen spin-off from the popular TV series, a wonderfully inventive animated feature, and a terrific musical into the bargain, with song-and-dance routines worthy of the best of classical Hollywood, not to mention a generous strain of subversive wit. And just how do you get your kids not to swear? 'It's Easy, Mmm-kay!'


Six performances of note:

Gérard Depardieu in Cyrano de Bergerac
Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven
Robert Forster in Jackie Brown

Jodie Foster in The Silence of the Lambs
Judy Davis in Husbands and Wives
Julia Roberts in Notting Hill

Saturday, August 4, 2007

Andrew's Best of the 1990s

  1. Lessons of Darkness (1992)
    A fusion of documentary and science-fiction from Werner Herzog. Following the first Gulf War, Herzog went to Kuwait to shoot footage of the oil fires that had turned the region into an apocalyptic inferno. Lessons of Darkness frames the footage as though it is from the perspective of an alien visitor to Earth. The metaphor of being an alien presence in the Middle East obviously has a lot of political resonances, and the film provides a powerful, moving, and utterly unique view of the crises there. It features some of Herzog’s most extraordinary landscape photography and trumps his own Fata Morgana (1971) as a vision of colonial madness in the desert.

  2. Reservoir Dogs (1992)
    Seeing this fresh, before Tarantino became Tarantino, was one of the most exhilarating experiences of the nineties for me. It's a lean, taut and focused film, featuring none of the bloated self-indulgence of Tarantino's later work.

  3. The Player (1992)
    I love thrillers with an off-key quality to them, where mood and texture play as much of a role as plot. Altman was a master of this; and, in representing Griffin Mill's growing paranoia, The Player has this quality in spades. The ending is especially good, simultaneously upbeat and downbeat, sentimental and cynical, a Hollywood ending that's as unHollywood as they come.

  4. The Strategy of the Snail (1993)
    This Colombian film is a delightful satire about poverty and solidarity. A group of neighbors are forced to pull together and use all of their wiles to save the house that they live in but do not legally own. It's a genuine crowd-pleaser and a potent political allegory with an absurdist touch.

  5. Three Colors: Red (1994)
    In selecting Three Colors: Red, I'm really implying all three films of the trilogy. Krzysztof Kieslowski was the auteur director of the nineties and left us way too soon. This tale of fate, fraternity and responsibility was his crowning achievement and is a near flawless film. What a way to end a career!

  6. Before Sunrise (1995)
    I was roughly the same age as the characters when this first came out, and it spoke to me. Before Sunset (2004), however, has changed my relationship to Before Sunrise, contextualizing it as a film about being in love in your early twenties. This context gives new layers of meaning and specificity to the characters’ yearnings, musings, and fumblings – presenting romance not as something “eternal”, but rather as something determined in large part by age. If another film appears in a few years, it will become the 7-Up series of Generation X relationships.

  7. Lost Book Found (1996)
    Jem Cohen's meditation on New York and Walter Benjamin is a masterwork of experimental filmmaking and a fascinating updating of the "city symphony" tradition. It's impossibly hard to find – I've only seen it as part of a film class – but it seems likely that someone involved in American Beauty saw it: the plastic bag motif is lifted whole cloth from Lost Book Found.

  8. Boogie Nights (1997)
    Boogie Nights
    is a film of such wisdom, confidence and cinematic flamboyance that it still boggles my mind that Paul Thomas Anderson was only 27 when he made it. I can’t think of another ensemble film where all of the characters are so richly written and performed. I love the film’s use of fluid long takes (perhaps emulating/mocking the use of static long takes in adult films). And I love how the sad, broken-down-carousel music score offsets the peppy disco tunes to reveal the heartbreak and anguish behind the freewheeling decadence. More than any other film, it captures my own memories of the feel of the late-1970s and early-1980s.

  9. Jesus’ Son (1999)
    Sam will disagree with me, but I like this film much more than the book on which it was based. The book is great, but what I love most about the film is the wonderfully existential mood of Alison Maclean’s direction, and the terrific performances by all of the cast. Billy Crudup, as Fuckhead, has never been better; and Jack Black, Samantha Morton, Denis Leary and Holly Hunter are all at the tops of their games. Along with Boogie Nights, it’s another insightful look back on the 1970s.

  10. Three Kings (1999)
    David O. Russell’s Gulf War action-satire is in the best tradition of 1970s Hollywood filmmaking: it’s complex, challenging, exciting, absurd, angry, funny, cynical, tragic, and bold. I can’t think of another Hollywood movie that has tackled the United States' involvement in the Middle East as well; the first ninety seconds of Three Kings alone covers more ground than the whole of Jarhead. It also has some of the most strikingly innovative cinematography I’ve ever seen.

Thursday, August 2, 2007

Movie Greats

I just thought I'd say a little bit about Ingmar Bergman and Michelangelo Antonioni, both of whom have died this week. Yes, two of the world's greatest film directors have gone within a day of each other.

I was moved to hear of Bergman's death, although he did, of course, live to a fine age (89). I don't qualify as a huge fan, so far: I have only seen about half a dozen of his films - inc. Smiles of a Summer Night, Wild Strawberries, Through a Glass Darkly, Persona, Cries and Whispers and Fanny and Alexander - but I was impressed with all of them (especially the later ones). And I've been looking forward to seeing the likes of Shame, The Magic Flute, Face to Face and Autumn Sonata.

As well as some of his features, I greatly enjoyed The Making of Fanny and Alexander (which is included in Criterion's Fanny and Alexander 5-disc box set). This is a two-hour on-set documentary, filmed and compiled by Bergman himself, in which we get an insight into the man at work on the set of what he announced as his final theatrical feature. Instead of a standard narration, it generally shows footage of activities on the set intercut with title cards explaining things (or sometimes just giving quotes which can then be applied to what we're seeing). It is a very effective way of seeing how a director (and a film set) works. The intricacy with which he and cinematographer Sven Nykvist set up one shot at the bedside of Fanny and Alexander's dying father illustrates his mastery.

Antonioni was 94, and had been slowed somewhat in his output after suffering a stroke in the 1980s. I like Antonioni's films a lot. In fact, only a week ago I watched L'eclisse again and realised something I hadn't felt about it before, that its study of a woman looking for love in 'the city' is absorbing.

His most famous English language movie is probably Blowup, which helped define swinging London and managed to combine Antonioni's familiar preoccupations with the plot twists of a classic mystery. But who can forget L'eclisse, Zabriskie Point and The Passenger? (He did great endings.) Or L'avventura, with the woman who disappears? And then there are his fifties films, such as I vinti and Il grido, which explore their flawed characters' lives with tenderness and compassion. In all of his movies, he had a way of filming the action so as to elucidate the search for one's 'place' in the world. These are highly significant works and, along with Bergman's, will resonate for years to come.

To add to the pile-up, actor Michel Serrault has also passed away in the last few days. He played lots of fine roles in French cinema, such as Ugo Tognazzi's camp partner who drags up in an attempt to please in La Cage aux Folles, and M. Arnaud in Nelly et Monsieur Arnaud opposite Emmanuelle Béart in 1996.

Hopefully there won't be any more cinema deaths for a while!

Friday, July 27, 2007

Sam's Best of the 2000s

1. You Can Count On Me (2000)

This is a wonderful character-driven story of two siblings in their 30s who are emotionally scarred from the accidental death of their parents during their childhood. This movie was my first introduction to Mark Ruffalo. He is an excellent actor, who gives thoughtful and compelling performances, even when in the dopiest romantic comedy or the silliest thriller. But this is still his best role, full of pain and humor and heart. I think Laura Linney has the same mannerisms and line-deliveries in all of her roles, but she is very good in this film as she tries to put up a front of complete control while her life is in chaos. The Culkin factory spit out another little boy for this movie, Rory, and he is strong as Linney’s son.

2. Memento (2000)

I am a huge fan of films that play with narrative structure, and I remember the excitement of watching this film for the first time. Christopher Nolan did a great job of making the audience an active participant in deciphering the story, interweaving the forward moving phone conversation with the reverse-progressing narrative. Guy Pearce and Joe Pantoliono are clearly having fun with their roles.

3. Donnie Darko (2001)

An exceptional first feature from writer/director Richard Kelly. There is a disturbing atmosphere that pervades the world of the film. The movie remains mysterious while providing humor, drama, and science fiction. Jake Gyllenhaal carries the story as the hyper-cerebral Donnie, and his performance ranges from timid to an insanity reminiscent of Jack Nicholson in “The Shining”.

4. Punch Drunk Love (2002)

Romantic comedies are so often stale and predictable, yet this film by Paul Thomas Anderson is anything but. A primary reason is that Anderson clearly cares so much about his characters, creating his conflict and attraction from their psychology and not from superficial situational episodes. Also, there is so much for the senses to take in. The visual structure is highly controlled. Sound is made crucial to propel the story forward as well as inform the audience about the state of the characters. Adam Sandler is surprising in his restraint, Emily Watson is great as an assertive yet vulnerable romantic interest, but Philip Seymour Hoffman steals the show.

5. 25th Hour (2002)

Spike Lee is probably still best know for “Do the Right Thing”, and thought of by many as a heavy-handed filmmaker regarding race. But when race is not the central focus of the story, I think Lee is actually freed up to be more playful and entertaining. This film has the premise of a man who is going through his few remaining free hours before going to prison. Lee makes this situation relatable, and the dread is tangible. Ed Norton is a favorite actor, and this is a great role for him. Philip Seymour Hoffman again gives a great performance, and his mostly dialogue-free scene where he tries to seduce his teenage student to Cyamande’s song “Bra” is the best in the film.

6. 28 Days Later (2003)

After “The Beach”, there was every reason to be nervous to see writer Alex Garland and director Danny Boyle reunite. But “28 Days Later” grabs you early on and keeps you on edge. Cillian Murphy is a charismatic and believable protagonist. The visuals of a completely empty London are beautiful and disturbing. And making the zombies fast moving was a great decision. The movie completely shifts gears with the soldiers who were promised women, but I enjoyed the complication for the team of survivors.

7. Collateral (2004)

A textbook high-concept movie, with a hit man commandeering a taxi and its driver so he can carry out a string of murders. This is one of my favorite recent popcorn movies, and also one of my favorite screen depictions of Los Angeles. The city looks both menacing and beautiful. There are fresh performances from both Tom Cruise and Jamie Foxx. Mark Ruffalo has a nice small role against type as a smooth and confident detective.

8. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)

I don’t think all the self-conscious storytelling works, but I admire and enjoy the playfulness of this film nevertheless. Robert Downey Jr. is one of the greatest living actors, and he has so much fun with this role. Shane Black’s script is smart and funny, as well as joyfully overloaded with plot as homage to Raymond Chandler. This movie is intelligent, sexy, humorous, suspenseful, and exciting.

9. United 93 (2006)

I was really worried about this film. I had trouble imagining how a mainstream film addressing 9/11 would not be painfully sentimental or simplistic in structuring its narrative. What floored me most about this film is the quality of the ensemble cast, that all the characters are well rounded and realistic. There are no simple good or bad guys, and there are many examples of heroism as well as tragic errors in judgment. Paul Greengrass makes the entire film not only compelling but suspenseful, which is especially impressive because of how the audience already knows so much of the story before the picture begins.

10. Beerfest (2006)

This movie is hilarious. It gets funnier every time you see it. Best seen with a group of friends, and it doesn’t hurt to have a beer or two as well.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Edward's Best of the 2000s

I'm happy to join in! I've given my ten below, plus I've selected three male and three female performances from the decade which I think are especially noteworthy. Happy to do other lists as well - I've been trying to come up with top tens for each decade recently, so I'd be happy to share!

One of Andrew's is on my list too - Before Sunset - and I really liked the part of The Five Obstructions which I've seen (about the first thirty mins.) so I must see the rest of it. I didn't think much of Battle Royale, actually - I remember thinking that it was a film which could use a remake: I felt it wasted its premise. Admittedly I've only seen it once, and it was a few years ago, so maybe I'd like it better this time. I agree about Children of Men's dazzling long takes, and I think if I see it a second time I'll be able to absorb more of the characterisations. And though I have yet to see Happy Accidents, you won't get a complaint about Marisa Tomei out of me!

Here are my ten:

1. Wonder Boys (2000)

This is a very warm and witty film about a university lecturer, Grady Tripp, and the various crises, personal and professional, which he has to deal with over the course of a weekend at his college. Michael Douglas's performance as Grady is charming and loveable in its shambolic humanity. Perhaps it's all wrapped up a little too neatly, but along the way we get lots of insights into the way writers write, and it's great to see a film which finds non-angry things to say about the educational system. Lovely cinematography, too - cold and snowy - a colourful supporting cast of likeable actors and excellent use of Bob Dylan's music, especially 'Not Dark Yet' and the song he wrote for this movie, 'Things Have Changed'.

2. Our Lady of the Assassins (2000)

This is Barbet Schroeder's adaptation of Fernardo Vallejo's sardonic novel about a middle-aged writer falling in love with a young gang member in violence-stricken Medellín. The filmmaking is elegant, the script verbose, the actors awkward but ingratiating, and the situation rests on a knife-edge - their lives are in constant danger, and yet the film manages to make of their relationship an unashamed cross-generational homosexual love affair. Schroeder is one of the most worldly directors working.

3. Moulin Rouge! (2001)

I wanted to have a music on the list, and this is, I guess, the best one of the decade (to date). The first half hour is too hyper, but if you get as far as the moment where Ewan McGregor bursts into 'Your Song', you'll probably be hooked from there onwards. Richard Roxburgh has been overlooked in all the fuss, but he gives a very affecting performance as the loathsome Duke. And Baz Luhrmann has the courage to make a movie about love itself.

4. Mulholland Drive (2001)

A young wanna-be actress arrives in Hollywood and falls victim to its relentless dehumanising machine. And David Lynch makes it as odd and absorbing as you'd expect. This is a film which has its own dreamy momentum and which takes you along for its ride. Its very fascinating structure, born of its origins as an aborted TV pilot, leaves certain plot lines dangling or underdeveloped - the hitman's botched jobs, the film director (underrated Justin Theroux) at the mercy of his financiers - but don't listen to the people who say it doesn't make sense; it does, thanks to Lynch's commitment to emotional, rather than narrative, coherence.

5. Dark Water (2002)

Hideo Nakata, the director of Ring, here delivers another adaptation of a Koji Suzuki story, and it's another blood-curdler. But what makes this one of the best horror films is not just its nerve-jangling twists and shocks but the emotional undercurrent, which is made explicit in the film's moving coda. This is a movie about motherhood, and what a mother will sacrifice to protect her child. Intense and atmospheric, this shows yet again Nakata's deceptive style - it seems as if nothing much is going on but all the while he is pulling you further and further in.

6. Le Fils (2002)

A carpenter (Olivier Gourmet) at a reform school for delinquent teenagers becomes obsessed with his new pupil, who has in the past done untold damage. I believe this to be Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne's best film to date and one of the very best films of recent times. It's a perfect example of style and content in unison, the camera darting around after Olivier Gourmet as he grapples with the moral decision of what to do in a near-impossible situation.

7. The Pianist (2002)

Roman Polanski's drama set in Warsaw during World War II was, as everybody knows, a very personal project for him. For this reason, it's the restraint which impresses the most - and this leads to some very chilling and sobering depictions of Nazi brutality. Stylistically not a ground-breaking film, it is a work which puts across its points with patience and lucidity.

8. Peter Pan (2003)

This is a very flawed adaptation of the famous story, but I rate it as one of the best of this decade because when it works, it works wonders. It contains some of the most original special effects I've seen recently, and James Newton Howard's music positively soars. I love the flight to Neverland, the night-time forest sequence, and especially the ending. Director P. J. Hogan always makes heavily flawed films (Muriel's Wedding, My Best Friend's Wedding) but he can nonetheless hit the heights. I've never been interested in the Peter Pan story, but this film is well worth seeing, and grows with repeated viewings - because the flaws recede.

9. Before Sunset (2004)

I agree with Andrew's take on this. I was very concerned when they announced it, because the first film had worked and I didn't want them to ruin things with a sequel. Well, this one works even better, and dramatises that eternal conundrum: what if we had got together with the one that got away? There are exquisite long takes of people communicating with each other as they walk the streets of Paris in real time.

10. Match Point (2005)

This is Woody Allen's best film since Everyone Says I Love You. People said that it was a change of pace for Woody - it's set in London, it's a thriller - but they were forgetting how well organised and powerful his best films are, and how this continues in that vein. It's a modern morality tale, deliberately stylised so as to convey its weighty themes - hence Jonathan Rhys Meyers' rather abstract performance - and although it's got its flaws, it is fluid, it looks fabulous, and it ends on a most cautionary note.

Here are my choices for outstanding male and female performances of the decade (three each, again in chronological order):

Michael Douglas in Wonder Boys

OK, I am a Michael Douglas fan. I always like him and his flawed white man act - Fatal Attraction, Basic Instinct, Falling Down, Disclosure... but here, he is simply loveable as the respected lecturer and author going through all manner of mid-life crises over a single weekend. Whether talking to the police while wearing his ex-wife's pink dressing gown or stuffing a dead dog into the boot of his car, Douglas makes the character one to root for.

Olivier Gourmet in Le Fils

His performance works so well, it bears out the Dardenne brothers' claim that they wrote it only with him in mind. This is a towering achievement of outer appearance and inner revelation. And, incidentally, it is one of the best 'teacher' roles in the movies.

Maurice Bénichou in Caché

He has only a small role, as the nondescript French-Algerian man accused of sending threatening videos and letters to Daniel Auteuil's character, the complacent middle-class success story with the murky past. But Bénichou's sadness, his slumped shoulders, his end-of-the-line lack of energy, simply seem so real. If you've seen Caché, you may not easily forget Benichou's scenes or what happens to his character.

Charlotte Rampling in Under the Sand

Rampling plays a woman who is left bereft when her husband disappears while they are on holiday by the coast in France. What happened to him? And what does a middle-aged woman do when the man she has shared her life with is no longer there? It's heartbreaking to watch the character working this all out, and Rampling does it superbly.

Laura Elena Harring in Mulholland Drive

Harring plays an actress who gets amnesia after being involved in a car accident on the eponymous road. Naomi Watts' young starlet helps her search for her identity, and then falls in love with her. Watts is wonderful in the movie too, but she had the slightly easier role - more emoting to do - whereas Harring had to be desirable and remote, and later a heartbreaker, and her performance works perfectly within David Lynch's sensual puzzle.

Isabelle Huppert in The Piano Teacher

Intense, tortured - we really feel pity and sympathy for Huppert's pent-up music teacher who can only express her desires through masochism. That's two performances of my six from Michael Haneke films!