The Best and Worst Films of the Year, so far
The Best:
Not only does The Counterfeiters highlight a little known chapter of World War II history by showing the Nazi effort to undermine the Allies with funny money, but it’s a delicious morality play that forces the audience to wonder: what you do? Salomon 'Sally' Sorowitsch (Karl Markovics) may have been Jewish, but that didn’t mean he was going to do anything to use what little leverage he and his fellow Counterfeiters had to launch a revolution. It makes an interesting counterpoint to several other films about the heroism in concentration camps and dares to ponder, would you collaborate in order to escape certain death?
Possibly one of the best, if not the best, heist film released in the last several years, The Bank Job takes the whole “based on a true story” subgenre and makes a believer out of you. Not to mention the fact that director Roger Donaldson managed the feat of harnessing Jason Statham’s raw machismo and gave him a character to build on rather than just have utter monosyllabic threats with the voice of a before guy in a cough drop commercial. This Job is lively, witty and it keeps you on your toes until the end credits roll.
This movie helped affirm Eastern Europe’s place as a cinema provocateur that’s telling bold stories without limitation. This film was no different as it brazenly and without pretext or subtext, tells a tale of two women seeking an illegal abortion in Communist Romania in the 80s. A message movie this is not, unless the message is how utterly demoralizing, dark and desperate it was for the women of the time. Danger lurks around every corner for these women (played ably by Anamaria Marinca and Laura Vasiliu); so much so, even the shadows seem like they’re moving.
This is the wonder of Iron Man: it’s a superhero movie worthy of making the year’s top ten. Director Jon Favreau made the bold move to de-emphasize the big action and smartly focused his lens and the story on Robert Downey Jr’s dizzyingly, hypnotic turn as robber baron turned saint in metal armour, Tony Stark. Downey owns in this movie and after years fighting drug addiction and then hiding away in supporting roles, he finally owns the mantle of movie star that he promised to hold way back during the days following Chaplin. Marvel’s choice to go solo with its film production has paid early dividends and as you can expect, a sequel can’t come fast enough. Nor can an Avengers movie, for that matter.
In seeing this, one of the best docs of the year, you come away with that wonderful life affirming feeling that it’s never too late to get out there and feel young again. The story of this chorus, which sings pop music from the 50s through to today, is full of life, energy and fair dose of bittersweet pathos. Running the gambit of emotional reaction from big laughs to choking back tears, Young @ Heart is refreshingly honest and human. You won’t be able to forget it.
This is a charmingly funny fish out of water tale about an Egyptian police band that flies to Israel to play at an Arab Cultural Centre, only to end up in the wrong part of the country when they catch the wrong bus. Chalk full of quirk and character, the film is a delightful treat as the band members share a little bit of peace and understanding in a very understated, completely non-political way. This is a small film with big thoughts and even bigger laughs.
Who would have guessed that a message film about a little robot garbage can would have turned into one of the most golden of the year’s offerings? WALL-E excels at simple moments and simple pleasures. The love story between WALL-E and the more advanced EVE is downright adorable and is at the heart of what people might consider a left-wing plebiscite on the environment and corporate corruption. But these messages are subtle and indeed only service what will turn out to be probably Pixar’s most ambitious and most artistic film in their catalogue.
In Bruges is possibly the best, most stingingly inspired look at the ordinary through the lives of underworld thugs since Pulp Fiction. With brilliant dialogue, tremendous humour and an unrestricted, go for the gore reflex, Bruges manages to be funny and all too utterly human. Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson are dynamite together, anchoring the exotic cast of creeps and characters that includes Ralph Fiennes as a potty mouthed master mobster. It’s brilliant, dark humoured fun with a heart of gold.
Technically this counts as one of last year’s releases, but I’ve never been one to recognize the opening of a film in three cities cross country, two days before the new year as even limited release. So I count it now because I saw it in February and despite some of the critical blowback following the Oscars, this film deserves every morsel of praise . It’s a movie built around a singular performance: Daniel Day-Lewis’ tour de force as Daniel Plainview. It’s a showcase and masterpiece that is mesmerizing so long as Day-Lewis is on screen launching into a tirade of one sort or another, if not otherwise convincing people to give him their land’s oil.
I can’t think of a more complete cinema experience this year so far. Julian Schnabel’s chronicle of the struggles of French Elle editor Jean-Dominique Bauby (played without any restraint by Mathieu Amalric), is a gorgeous looking film that’s an utterly heart-wrenching experience. Bauby’s internal struggle to find his voice again following a massively debilitating stroke that leaves his whole body, save one, blinking eye, paralyzed is told through elaborate fantasy sequences and flashbacks to his life prior. It’s a film of singular beauty, haunting and quite nearly unforgettable.
The Worst:
It takes a special kind of talent to release not just one, but two horrible movies within the space of six months. This talent’s name is Uwe Boll, and he either loves schlock or hates cinema. It really is like he wants to destroy it. But at least the movie based on Dragon Siege got a wide release. As dumb as it was, it wasn’t shafted like Postal, which was so offensive, distributors had to beg, borrow and steal to only get a single midnight showing in back water cinemas in odd corners of Brooklyn. But don’t worry folks; he’s still got five more films in development. The guy’s literally a crap machine.
It’s been about a week and a half later and I’ve still been unable to get the rotten taste of this “comedy” out of my mouth. It’s culturally offensive, lacks any real charm and its pop culture references are about a decade too stale. Myers obviously caved under the pressure of delivering a live action character equal in comedic potential to Austin Powers, but rather than creating that character he used an inordinate number of penis jokes as a crutch to coast through the 90 minute running time. No one escapes this alive, or funny.
The only true mystery in 88 Minutes was how Al Pacino managed to make his hair stand on end, while at the same time making it look all so naturally wind swept. Actually, that’s not true. The other question is who conned the writer of The Fast and the Furious into thinking that he was some kind of Thomas Harris. What’s supposed to be a murder mystery thriller with a ticking clock turned into an unrepentant joke as Pacino stumbles from clue to clue in the company of one of woman or another, who are all way too young for him. The more I’ve thought about this movie, the dumber I feel.
So hot and sexy people keep a phone book of each other’s numbers in order to hook up, no strings attached, whenever they feel the itch? That is until a slick psycho played by Hugh Jackman uses this e-black book to con fuddy duddy Ewan McGregor into pulling what’s actually an elaborate internet bank heist scheme. Like Jumper, you need to have a Ph. D. in quantum mechanics in order to understand the internal logic of the film; damned if I know what went down in the final act. If this was a penance to get producer Jackman on board for X-Men Origins: Wolverine, it’d better be worth it.
Aside from the mere concept about people that can instantly teleport from one place to another, there isn’t one thing about this film that I understand. Why is Samuel L. Jackson’s grey-haired goon so intent on eliminating Hayden Christensen’s Captain Bland? Why does Christensen’s character chose the one day he’s being pursued by ruthless bad guys to pop in on his high school crush (played by Rachel Bilson)? And why, oh why wasn’t Jamie Bell’s much more magnetic Griffin the main character? More importantly though, how does a film like this get a budget and a marketing push, when Jessica Simpson’s Blonde Ambition wallows, playing only in three theatres in Texas? For shame.
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