Of Film and Other Demons

Josh Ritter, The Animal Years

Once I knew a girl in the hard hard times
She made me a shirt out of fives and dimes
Now she’s gone but when I wear it she crosses my mind
And if the best is for the best then the best is unkind

I realized that Illinois was more than I could stand
They say working’s best cause poverty is hell on a man
Now I ride a lazy river through the Mississippi fan
And if the best is for the best then the best can be damned

I spent a few years on the Queen of Spain
She was a leaky little boat that went up in flames
When the boiler blew some people started naming names
But if the best is for the best
I guess the best is to blame

I spent a few more as the Cairo Crown
A heavyweight wrestler in the Midwest towns
But I was lonesome for a girl who could pin me down
They say the best is for the best but that’s not what I’ve found

Now I listen to my sweetheart and I listen to my thirst
I don’t spend time listening to other people’s words
Sometimes they’re right most times the reverse
They say the best is for the best when the best’s for the worse

Once I knew a girl in the hard hard times
She made me a shirt out of fives and dimes
Now she’s gone but when I wear it she crosses my mind
And if the best is for the best then the best is unkind

Stolen from Justine over at House of Mirth and Movies (who stole it from someone else, heh).

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

Anti-Western, gorgeous imagery, lengthy, literate, deeply troubled but empathetic characters, moody score

La Belle et La Bete

Fantasy, French, amazing production design, highly imaginative, moody, strong female character

The Double Life of Veronique

Atmospheric, mysterious, emotional, incredible music, striking imagery, puppetry, deals with the “sublime”

20. In the Mood for Love (Wong Kar-Wai)

This film has incredible rhythm, led by Shigeru Umebayashi’s elegant, repetitive score. It plays out much like a perfectly choreographed dance – the two lovers, constrained by their own delusions of nobility and morality, as well as society’s expectations of each other, circle each other endlessly, moving in, drawing back, never fully coming together. It’s a bit frustrating, but so is life; sometimes it’s not what happens that defines us, but what doesn’t, what is left unsaid, what longings are unexpressed, what love is unconsummated.

19. All the Real Girls (David Gordon Green)

In the same vein, All the Real Girls deals with a love that is broken, subverting expectations of how these narratives should play out. David Gordon Green treats his characters with tender empathy even as they self-sabotage, and the result is a film that feels warm and familiar, despite its confrontation of the hard truths that come with first love and experience. His vision of small town American life captures both its simple beauty and the frustration that comes with it, that feeling of being trapped.

18. The Best of Youth (Marco Tullio Giordana)

Often films containing so many characters and events can be distancing, never letting the viewer become intimately acquainted with any one moment or scene. The Best of Youth, however, uses its six hour runtime to great advantage, letting characters breathe and move throughout the loose narrative as they please. Certain scenes last interminably, like a New Year’s party, slowly, imperceptibly moving towards a game-changing climax. That isn’t to say, for its leisurely pace mostly resembling the ebb and flow of a great, sprawling novel, that the film is ever less than compelling. Its characters are so fully and warmly drawn, but left with enough ambiguity to draw you in, up until its stunning conclusion.

17. Hot Fuzz (Edgar Wright)

I find it difficult to write about comedy; it’s hard to pin down the essence of something as creative, outrageous, and fast-paced as this. What I love about Edgar Wright’s particular brand of humor is that it combines so many different elements of comedy, from incredibly sharp dialogue, to gory slapstick, to subtle visual gags, but the whole affair is grounded by a deep affection for his characters and the genre being parodied. Hot Fuzz actually contains some of the best action of the decade, as well as a fairly compelling mystery underneath all the elaborately staged death scenes and hilarious performances. It never gets old for me, consistently revealing new layers in the dialogue and inventive editing. It’s endlessly rewarding.

16. No Country for Old Men (Joel and Ethan Coen)

I find it incredibly difficult to write about this film, as well. Even after multiple views, I don’t feel like I have a complete grasp on its themes, perhaps because I’m resistant to seeing it as being as nihilistic as most readings are. Regardless, I find it fascinating, and it’s a thrilling cinematic experience, full of brilliantly constructed suspense. Much has been said about its immediately iconic villain, Anton Chigurh, but just as instrumental in the creation of a sublimely tense mood is Roger Deakins’ striking cinematography, and the sound design, which understands better than perhaps any other film the agony of silence.

24. Antichrist (Lars Von Trier)

Full review here. Von Trier’s latest is a gorgeous, daring look at loss and mental illness, loaded with symbolic imagery and fierce performances.

23. Pan’s Labyrinth (Guillermo del Toro)

This rich fantasy boasts a stunning child performance from Ivana Baquero as Ofelia, composed and graceful even as the horrors stack up against her. Sergi Lopez makes one of the most terrifying villains of the decade, adding real danger and weight to the lush, dreamy atmosphere. It’s an expertly constructed fairytale, full of demons and monsters that sprout straight from Ofelia’s tortured imagination, and mirror her real-life struggle to survive and protect her family. Whether or not you believe in the fantasy, the finale is devastating.

22. Amelie (Jean-Pierre Jeunet)

Jeunet takes the feel-good movie and throws so many unique visual tricks and playful narrative digressions that it becomes something much richer and stranger than the tale of a shy girl hoping to find her own bliss by creating joy for others. Audrey Tautou is luminous, and Paris has never looked so warm and charming.

21. Quills (Philip Kaufman)

A bleak but darkly funny look at the last days of the Marquis de Sade, as he rails against censorship and sexual repression under Napoleon’s reign from the confines of his asylum cell. His perversions and delirious writings inspire lust and violence in all that come in contact with them, including the priest trying to convert him, a lecherous doctor, his fellow inmates, and the ripe, innocent laundry maid at the asylum. The results are tragic and thought-provoking. Geoffrey Rush is endlessly watchable even in his most deranged moments as the Marquis.

20. Grizzly Man (Werner Herzog)

Werner Herzog has made an entire career out of the clash between man’s ambition and the indifferent brutality of nature. In Grizzly Man, he turns his lens to Timothy Treadwell, a lost soul who found himself while living for years among bears in the Alaskan wilderness, before he and his girlfriend were devoured by them. Treadwell taped extensive footage of his experiences, and Herzog is wise enough to let them mostly speak for themselves. The closeness he experienced with animals is amazing to watch and much of his nature footage stunningly beautiful. Yet he is clearly deeply troubled, and this probing film goes deep into his psyche and those affected by his death. The question of what drove him to his violent end is largely unanswered, so the film lingers long after it ends.

Stole this idea from the lovely Justine over at House of Mirth and Movies. 10 filmmakers I would like to explore in 2010:

Dario Argento (seen 1 film)

F.W. Murnau (seen 1 film)

Peter Greenaway (seen 0 films)

Derek Jarman (seen 0 films)

Catherine Breillat (1seen 1 film)

Jaromil Jires (seen 0 films)

Hiroshi Teshigahara (seen 0 films)

Claire Denis (seen 0 films)

Jean Renoir (seen 1 film)

Lucio Fulci (seen 0 films)

I will finish my films list, I swear. But for now, a brief, musical digression. I’m limiting this to one song per artist or it would be 20 Josh Ritter songs and 10 from other people – however, projects from different bands count individually even if they share an artist, as do collaborations and solo tracks. Please excuse my rather limited taste and knowledge, and enjoy!

30. “People As Places As People” – Modest Mouse, from We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank

29. “Wait” – The Kills, from Keep on Your Mean Side

28. “Bad Romance” – Lady GaGa, from The Fame Monster

27. “Black Hearted Love” – Pj Harvey & John Parrish, from A Woman a Man Walked By

26. “Hard Times” – Patrick Wolf, from The Bachelor

25. “Four Winds” – Bright Eyes, from Cassadaga

24. “Red Blooms” – Calexico, from Carried to Dust

23. “The Raven” – Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan, from Sunday at Devil Dirt

22. “The Rain” – The Swell Season, from Strict Joy

21. “M79″ – Vampire Weekend, from Vampire Weekend

20. “Bad Things” – Jace Everett, from True Blood

19. “An End Has a Start” – Editors, from An End Has a Start

18. “Skinny Love” – Bon Iver, from For Emma, Forever Ago

17. “Hearing Damage” – Thom Yorke, from New Moon

16. “Beyond Here Lies Nothing” – Bob Dylan, from Together Through Life

15. “Shame” – Pj Harvey, from Uh Huh Her

14. “Hero” – Regina Spektor, from (500) Days of Summer

13. “Cosmia” – Joanna Newsom, from Ys

12. “All We Ask” – Grizzly Bear, from Veckatimest

11. “Curs in the Weeds” – Horse Feathers, from House With No Home

10. “Anonanimal” – Andrew Bird, from Noble Beast

9. “Siren Song” – Bat For Lashes, from Two Suns

8. “All I Need” – Radiohead, from In Rainbows

7. “Finally” – The Frames, from Burn the Maps (sorry, no good vids on youtube)

6. “Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)” – The Arcade Fire, from Funeral

5. “Midnight Man” – Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, from Dig Lazarus Dig!!!

4. “Flightless Bird, American Mouth” – Iron & Wine, from The Shepherd’s Dog

3. “The Sheep Song” – The Dresden Dolls, from No, Virginia

2. “Stella Was a Diver and She Was Always Down” – Interpol, from Turn on the Bright Lights

1. “Thin Blue Flame” – Josh Ritter, from The Animal Years

Please please please listen to the studio version here. It’s one of the most powerful songs ever written and while the live versions on youtube are great, nothing compares to the ending of the original.

29. Coraline (Henry Selick)

Neil Gaiman and Henry Selick are both masters of child-nightmare fodder, so naturally, they make an inspired match. Adapting Gaiman’s terrifying novel (its illustrations haunt me, even in adulthood) with his gorgeous stop-motion animation, Selick brings to sparkling life his titular heroine’s struggle to be heard and appreciated. The loneliness of childhood, especially as a girl on the verge of defining herself as an independent person with a voice worthy of being heard, is turned into a lush, frightening fantasy when Coraline goes “through the looking glass.” It’s an old story, but given a fresh, creative spin by Gaiman’s twisted imagination, as well as his sensitive perception of his protagonist’s feelings. A dazzling visual achievement, often funny, and occasionally very scary, with a perfect voice cast and a heart to match its technical feats.

28. Where the Wild Things Are (Spike Jonze)

Similarly tackling child psychology through the guise of fantasy is Spike Jonze in his adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s classic. Max, like Coraline, is struggling with his home life, and desperate for love and recognition. His fantasy world is populated not by sinister witches, but by equally lost and lonely monsters, that crown him their king and expect him to make everything better in their broken social circle. They are just as childish as he, prone to tantrums and not above the joy of a good dirt clod fight. It’s an unexpected twist, as you’d expect them to teach Max some neat life lessons and send him on his way, but in seeing his own emotions reflected in them, Max is forced to learn and grow on his own. It’s a smart, sweetly emotional film, set against a beautifully realized fantasy world that feels as if it’s always existed, and we are just lucky to be visiting.

27. Perfume: The Story of a Murderer (Tom Twyker)

I’ve written on this film extensively, but I still don’t feel like I really have a grasp on it – and I probably never will. It’s a complex, disturbing, wholly unique experience, and a near sensory overload at times. It follows Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, a man who has been gifted (or cursed) with a sense of smell so powerful it overshadows all other aspects of his life. His childhood is stunted by abuse and hard labor, and he is uneducated and adrift until taken in by an aging perfumer, which gives his obsession structure, and sets him a new goal – to capture the fragrance of beauty and purity, through the murder of pretty girls and extraction of their scent. It’s an insane premise, and played as deadly serious, but it works, if you let it. Whishaw’s performance totally sells the character, and the film is as thematically rich as it is visually sumptuous.

26. The Fountain (Darren Aronofsky)

Darren Aronofsky has had a brilliant decade. His first film on the list is an achingly romantic look at death and time, told in three closely related stories, separated by centuries. Tom’s obsessive love for Izzy, his wife, leads him to seek immortality, and her to spin a tale of a Conquistador searching for the Tree of Life, to bring power to his queen. These stories are entwined by the earnest performances of Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz, and the stirring score by Clint Mansell, which is possibly my favorite of all-time. It’s unsubtle, and a bit too short, but a stunning work of art nonetheless, especially when taking into consideration that the space-travel effects were entirely practical, and when examining the intricacies of the storyline and its allusions to history and mythology. It may not be his best film, but it’s his most ambitious, and visually accomplished.

25. In Bruges (Martin McDonagh)

I love this movie even more now that I’ve been to Bruges, which I can confirm is indeed, a fairytale city. But it’s great on its own as well. What’s fantastic about it is how adeptly McDonagh balances humor and sadness; it is both outrageously funny and deeply tragic. Laying low after a botched job, two hitmen retreat to Belgium to await further orders from their boss. The elder, Ken, is content to sightsee at all the city’s beautiful landmarks, but the younger, Ray, is tormented by his mistakes, a frustration that comes out in petulant sulking until he finally trusts Ken enough to show him the pain and regret he’s struggling with. The performances are uniformly excellent, but Colin Farrell as Ray and Brendan Gleeson as Ken put in the funniest and most sympathetic work of their careers.

34. Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (Peter Weir)

I’m a sucker for the “epic bromance” – tales of the friendship between powerful men, set against historical backdrops, treated with both elegant sensitivity and aggression in the sweeping action sequences. See HBO’s Rome, one of the finest achievements of the decade, as the best example of this. The  relationship between Captain Jack Aubrey and Dr. Stephen Maturin is at the heart of this film, depicted through philosophical conversations and the shared performance of music, rather than the more traditional support in battle that you often see in Hollywood adventure films. Weir nicely captures the rhythm of life at sea, and the jarring, unexpected transitions between peaceful lulls and fierce battles. Because he gives his characters room to breathe in between spectacular set-pieces, the action is all the more thrilling.

33. Lost in Translation (Sofia Coppola)

The relationships we form while traveling are, by their nature, fleeting and impermanent, and when we return home, can seem almost as if they existed in a dream, so removed are they from the routine that grounds the rest of our experiences. They can become profound in their brevity, especially because of the vulnerability we feel when outside of our comfort zone, that allows us to find comfort and companionship in strangers. Coppola’s tender film perfectly captures that relationship, between two entirely dissimilar people that are united by loneliness and the desire not to be overwhelmed by the neon Tokyo landscape.

32. The Fall (Tarsem)

One man’s redemption through the power of storytelling is at the heart of Tarsem’s dazzling fairytale, and though the strength of the central relationship is often obscured by the grandiose imagery, it succeeds as a touching portrait of hope and innocence. A young man, hospitalized and likely crippled, persuades a curious child to bring him pills to aid in his suicide, in exchange for stories to keep her mind off her own pain and boredom. His delirious and lovelorn state reflects in the stories he tells, which are often silly, nonsensical, and over-the-top, but to the girl, they are beautiful and enthralling. The visual language Tarsem employs is awe-inspiring, as he traveled to some of the world’s most incredible places for his doomed heroes to complete their quest.

31. Inglourious Basterds (Quentin Tarantino)

I wrote a full review of this film on my blog here. If you can’t be bothered to read all that – basically, this film is awesome. A fantastic cast of characters, exchanging sharp, layered dialogue in a myriad of languages. It’s a playful, yet powerful, look at the way cinema and illusion influence and shape our lives, and the way we view history.

30. Gosford Park (Robert Altman)

Altman’s indictment of the self-absorbed British “manor class” of the 1930s is razor-sharp, but goes down smooth as brandy, thanks to the opulent art direction, lovely musical score, and the pitch perfect performances of the massive cast. His trademark camera moves swiftly through the rooms of the house, eavesdropping on the rich guests that have come to attend a dinner party and their bitter servants, who form complex relationships of their own. When someone is murdered, the mystery is secondary – what’s important are the emotions and suspicions that boil over after the death. The genre tropes of the period piece and thriller are completely discarded for something more intelligent and nuanced, aided by Altman’s unparalleled gift with dialogue.

39. House of Flying Daggers (Yimou Zhang)

It’s over-the-top and gaudy, but despite that, this romantic fantasy will sweep you up into its spell if you let it. The fight choreography is graceful, accompanied by a brilliant score, but the action isn’t the main attraction. The chemistry between Takeshi Kaneshiro and Ziyi Zhang is mesmerizing, and I’ll be damned if they aren’t the prettiest onscreen couple of the decade. Shallow? Sure, but it’s spectacular.

38. O Brother, Where Art Thou? (Coens)

A hilarious retelling of Homer’s Odyssey set in the American South during the Great Depression, chock-full of memorable characters and evocative imagery and music. It has cartoonish, propulsive energy that perfectly befits the episodic nature of the escaped convicts’ journey home, during which they encounter sirens, fortune tellers, and none other than Cyclops. The Coens’ offbeat, dark humor is out in full force, but they are such compelling filmmakers because of the sympathy they have for their eccentric characters, and this motley crew is one of their most lovingly rendered and expertly acted ensembles.

37. Revanche (Gotz Spielmann)

This quiet, sober tale of desperation, vengeance, and redemption sneaks up on you with its power. The characters are given ample time to breathe, their lives intersecting with tragedy that seems to spring naturally out of their situations and personalities. Despite the depth and range of emotion displayed, neither the film nor the performances are overbearing in their intensity. Instead, the restraint shown by Spielmann creates a picture that is profoundly affecting and beautifully realized.

36. Drag Me to Hell (Sam Raimi)

On the other hand, showing no restraint to great effect is Sam Raimi, whose return to horror is essentially an elaborate, cruel joke on the audience. It’s uncomfortably loud, often disgusting, and sometimes rather terrifying, but its strength often lies in its ability to make you laugh at how well the scares and gross-outs are working. The ending is problematic, because it’s both satisfying and thematically twisted, for if you interpret it as a morality play, it’s unnecessarily harsh to the point of ridiculousness. If you choose to see it as a random, shit-luck twist, it’s a hell of a good time to watch pretty blonde Christine be tormented by goat-horned demons and nasty old gypsies.

35. The Dark Knight (Christopher Nolan)

The superhero film reaches its pinnacle with The Dark Knight, a ferocious, almost unbearably tense and expertly constructed crime drama that just so happens to put its leads in make-up and masks. The mythos here is completely separate from the silly puns and sound effects of the 60s, and now focuses in on the psychology of criminals and vigilantes, and the reactions of the people they terrorize and protect, respectively. The large cast is uniformly impressive, but Heath Ledger’s Joker is a legendary villain, towering over everyone else onscreen with his scarred leer and staccato laugh. The Joker is a brilliantly written character – the human manifestation of chaos, completely unconcerned with morality – but the performance is what seals it as one for the ages.

44. Shaun of the Dead (Edgar Wright)

It’s rare that a film tries to fit into so many genres at once and succeeds at them all. Shaun of the Dead is, above all, a comedy, and it’s frequently hilarious, but it also works better as a romcom than 99% of actual romcoms that Hollywood has released in the last decade, and draws towards its bloody, take-no-prisoners climax, it’s pretty effective as a zombie movie too. The cast is game for all the nasty, hilarious surprises Wright throws at them, and the film truly works because their chemistry is so strong, that the finale actually tugs at the heartstrings a bit.

43. Lake of Fire (Tony Kaye)

This 3-hour documentary on America’s culture war over abortion is a seriously challenging watch, not because of its duration, but because of the frank and graphic way the subject matter is presented. It attempts to be unbiased, letting the main players involved speak for themselves, and never is it more powerful than in its most objective segment: the camera actually follows a young woman getting the procedure, and her reaction to the aftermath. Her pain speaks more eloquently for both sides than the angry white males attempting to legislate her decision could ever hope to.

42. Once (John Carney)

A powerfully simple look at the small moments that define us. Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova are beautifully natural, letting their music express their most painful and elated states, as they fall in love and then realize the impossibility of it. I can’t emphasize enough how good the music is, and it really makes the film. I also feel like revisiting this film will be difficult and cathartic, because it hits close to home – falling in love in Ireland, with someone you can never be with. Been there.

41. Adventureland (Greg Mottola)

Speaking of hitting close to home, this is definitely going to be my life when I graduate college with my lovely, useless English degree. I even live close to the amusement park where they filmed this, and I know people just like these characters. It’s no longer the 80s, but I listen to Lou Reed and The Cure as much as they do anyway. It’s so refreshing to see a film that treats young people as real human beings with an interest in forming genuine, meaningful relationships, and trying to figure out their place in the world. The rich, colorful photography and great music create a perfect snapshot of a time and place, as well as the state of mind of its charming protagonist. Not to mention, Kristen Stewart is absolutely fetching.

40. The Proposition (John Hillcoat)

Finding beauty and poetry in the brutal, barren Australian outback is no small feat, but Hillcoat uses arresting sunsets and Nick Cave & Warren Ellis’ haunting score to paint a mystical splendor over his blood-soaked western. With intense performances from its weather-beaten cast (a dreamy, moon-faced Emily Watson excepted), this narrative of brotherly allegiance and violence as a means to control, civilize, and punish, moves forward as if in a nightmarish haze. It’s a unique piece of cinema, with a strange tone, and it doesn’t deal in any genre tropes. For that, it is perhaps a grower, requiring patience and multiple viewings, but it is well worth the effort.