Film/Cinema/Movies Since 1999

by

Eric Barker

A friend of mine who regularly waxes philosophical in film discussions likes to ask “What, exactly, are people looking at when they watch a movie?” That is, he’s curious about where a person’s concentration lands, moment-to-moment, as a film is unfolding: what part of the theater or TV screen they are looking at now, and now, and now again, as cinema’s complex array of imagery and sound flows over, around and at them.

I like my friend’s question a lot, for several reasons. First, it says to me that he’s fully engaged himself when he watches movies; they aren’t just a distraction for him. Second, as a screenwriter and inveterate moviegoer myself, I’ve often wondered the same thing, and I know for a fact that the people who make the movies are in constant dialogue with the question. Filmmakers of all stripes, from producers to editors to script readers would love to know the definitive answer, or at least the median answer, to my friend’s musings, so they could create more sure things for the cineplex, even in the arena of so-called independent film. Making a movie is an expensive proposition, period. Any clue about how it might be made more profitable, or at the very least less risky, would be greatly appreciated.

But for my friend and me, the curiosity is less mercenary (most days): in retrospect I can always tell you where my mind was focused during a particular movie, or during the most memorable scenes; I know how a particular film made me think or feel as I was watching it, and after. But I don’t know how it affected the woman or man sitting ten rows back, or the couple seeing it for the first time in their living room a few months later, their kids finally tucked in and just a couple of hours, if that, to relax.

I wonder about these things because, often when I talk to people about a given movie, it feels as if they didn’t see the same one I did, especially if we disagree. This is a sensation I’m sure everyone has had. People whose opinions baffle me no doubt feel the same way about my likes and dislikes – although they often frame it differently, as when they insist that I didn’t get what a film was really doing or “saying” – and in a very real sense we’re all correct: They didn’t see the same movie as me, nor did I see the same one as them. Taken frame-by-frame, the film itself doesn’t change, it is what it is. But as viewers we change the film as we are watching it, and in our memories of it afterward, and we change it again with every subsequent viewing.

This is why we may never come up with the foolproof Movie Consciousness Algorithm. People are free to absorb movies in their own way, scanning images big and small according to their personal customs and belief systems, processing dialogue and action in the privacy of their own minds, drawing a dozen inferences per minute and more, all of it based not just on what the film is presenting, but on their own life experience – personal memory, specialized knowledge, unavoidable feelings about certain subjects, willingness to indulge sentiment and when – and their own impressions of genre conventions, acting styles, and human behavior.

So: I’ve become more and more reluctant as I get older to declare that film A or B or C is “the best” of its year, or the last decade, or the last decade-and-a-third. I will declare that I believe movies are better than ever, especially if we look beyond the seasonal cycles of hype, which let’s face it have always been there and always will be. In the last decade the medium itself has morphed almost completely from film to digital, and though there are still holdouts resistant to that change, new technology has made the cinema a more malleable art form than its founders ever dreamed it could be. Meanwhile, film storytelling is more sophisticated than ever, with more stylistic variety; the ghetto genres of my 1960s youth have gone mainstream (while some others, alas, have played themselves out); the art of acting is more psychologically acute, more subtle than ever in its 2,500 year history; and at last the documentary has surged into popular awareness as a form of art and entertainment equal to the fiction film.

Rather than a single giant annotated list of what I think has been the best of film/cinema/ movies since 1999, I’m offering up several different categories of exceptional/provocative/ great films of recent times, which I hope reflect what most of us have gone through, cinematically speaking, since the days when Bill Clinton was acquitted of all charges by the Senate, Stanley Kubrick died, DVDs took over the home video market, and we learned the words al-Qaeda, improvised explosive device, Facebook, Twitter and credit default swap. 

I don’t mind saying that some of the films listed below provide better experiences than others, depending upon your ‘druthers, but the most any critic or commentator can really hope for is to simply be honest about which films moved him/her, which ones didn’t, and to be clear in both cases about why.

You’ll find eight lists below. For easy perusal they are, in order:

10 Highly Influential Films/Cinema/Movies, 1999-2011

12 Great Cinematic Experiences in English, 1999-2011

10 Great Cinematic Experiences in Languages Other Than English, 1999-2011

10 Exceptional Sci-Fi/Fantasy Movies, 1999-2011

10 Exceptional Mystery/Suspense Thrillers, 1999-2011

13 of My Favorite Little-Seen Movies, 1999-2011

20 Great Performances, 1999-2011

10 Highly Recommended Documentaries, 1999-2011

10 Highly Influential Film/Cinema/Movies, 1999-2011

Not necessarily films that were great, or even particularly good, but films that shifted the multimedia infrastructure here or there, frequently giving viewers something they didn’t know they wanted, movies that influenced everyone in the culture. Ranked chronologically.

The Matrix (1999), The Wachowski Brothers (Andy, and Larry, who has since become Lana).

A wildly entertaining, R-rated sleeper hit that made William Gibson’s musings on cyberspace palatable for a mass audience (without crediting him), permanently altering expectations for the tone and texture of sci-fi movies. Henceforth, the cinema of the fantastic had to be darkly baroque in design, crammed with aphorism and surreal on the plane of Dalí and Magritte. Though the sequels to The Matrix were markedly inferior, nothing could diminish its initial impact on the audience and filmmakers, like an 18-wheeler running a red light at rush hour. It then became the first smash hit on DVD, bringing the new home technology’s price point into affordable range and transforming video forever.

The Blair Witch Project (1999), Daniel Myrick & Eduardo Sanchez

Mostly a shaggy dog story, but its clever economy, nausea-inducing camerawork and a shrewdly mounted Internet campaign inspired a whole generation of people to believe it was possible to make a great living as an indie filmmaker. It isn’t, but there was nevertheless no better advertisement for the democratization of filmmaking tools in the 21st Century.

Memento (2000), Christopher Nolan

Now this is non-linear storytelling, owing more to Pinter than Tarantino. Not just a gimmick, Nolan’s breakout indie hit draws the viewer inside the disjointed consciousness of a man with no short term memory, his fear, confusion, ingenuity and desperation, ultimately showing how closely human morality is linked with our understanding of the past. As if that weren’t enough, Nolan would soon parlay his modest success here into the kind of Hollywood career that all indie filmmakers secretly dream about.

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring / The Two Towers / The Return of the King (2001-3), Peter Jackson

The epic film of our time, from the best-selling novel of the 20th century. Yes, I said film, because like its source material, it’s a single story broken into three parts for 1) marketing reasons, and 2) its exceptional length. Jackson’s New Zealand companies Weta Workshop and Weta Digital permanently raised the bar on every known technique of filmmaking, not to mention demonstrating how far movies can really go in creating a believable, unforgettable world of the imagination. The final chapter has too many climaxes, and some of Jackson’s flourishes throughout are inspired more by his Bad Taste days than Tolkien, but LOTR remains one of the extraordinary film achievements of the last decade.

Avatar (2009), James Cameron

As we all know, the film that made Hollywood think 3-D was coming back, and I have to admit it has hung around longer than expected, or at any rate, longer than the last time it was revived. Avatar itself is ruthlessly derivative of 60s print science fiction, as innocent of its clichés and sources as The Matrix was ironic and transformative, but it is astonishingly beautiful to look at for two and three-quarter hours. The top box office attraction of the 2000s.

Also worth mentioning:

Fight Club (1999), David Fincher: a brilliant satire of contemporary manhood that no one “got” until it was a hit in Europe; anarchic and just plain dangerous.

Spirited Away (Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi; 2001), Hayao Miyazaki: One of the most beautiful animated films of all-time, it allowed even Pixar to raise their game.

Bowling for Columbine (2002), Michael Moore: The documentary form finally hit a nerve, while showing that, ultimately, it ain’t about the objectivity, it’s about how you say whatever it is you’ve got to say.

Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003), Quentin Tarantino: The medium at last becomes the message, a triumph of cinematic formalism and style as content. [watch a scene from movieclips.com: "Your Mother Had It Coming"; violent R-rated content requires login, but they get the aspect ratio right so...]

The Dark Knight (2008), Christopher Nolan: see Great Cinematic Experiences in English below.

12 Great Cinematic Experiences in English, 1999-2011

O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000), Joel Coen (and Ethan Coen, uncredited)

The Coen Brothers’ most extraordinary comedy, happily riffing on the modernist conceit of retelling ancient literature in 20th century garb, and all the while steering George Clooney into a super-decade as a thoughtful, A-list movie star. Ostensibly we’re retracing the plot of Homer’s Odyssey as a journey through the Depression Era South, but with copious references to the music, film and culture of the time, including Robert Johnson and the Crossroads, Preston Sturges, the Bible and the Ku Klux Klan. Not as intricate with cross-references and suggestion as Joyce, but only because it’s relatively short by comparison. Never mind all that: it’s damned funny whether you spot the references or not, with humor and wit that sticks to your ribs.

Mulholland Dr. (2001), David Lynch

Originally meant to be the pilot for a Twin Peaks-style TV series, Mulholland Dr. was rethought by its creator until it became a jaw-dropping excursion through the twilight zone between fantasy and reality, a.k.a. Los Angeles. Like the Coen Brothers’ film above, it teems with suggestion and allusion, layers of possible meaning in every spoken word, and enough disturbing Lynchian atmosphere for a whole decade of films noir. The movie, you may remember, that gave us Naomi Watts, plus the infinitely strange and wonderful Club Silencio sequence that divides the two worlds of the film – one of them a dream of the other.

Brokeback Mountain (2005), Ang Lee

The media called it a “Gay Western” out of convenience, because things have to be pigeonholed, don’t they? And supporters used that phrase, generally, as a shallow critique of a great American art form, but let that go. Brokeback Mountain itself is apolitical, a blank slate for the viewer’s own projections, the most profound and shattering love story of our time. In future decades, its controversy will wane and viewers will wonder what all of the hand-wringing was about, but they’ll appreciate Ang Lee’s beautifully evocative imagery and the wrenching tragedy of Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist who, like all the great lovers of literature and film, were born into an ignorant and repressive world.

There Will Be Blood (2007), Paul Thomas Anderson

A masterpiece by the most original American filmmaker of his generation, and an unsparing journey into the dark soul of human ambition. The peerless Daniel Day-Lewis creates an historic personification of evil (for the movies) in the film’s central character, Daniel Plainview, whose primary bargain with the devil is simply accepting the worst in himself whenever necessary. Because of this, he believes everyone else is just as spiritually and ethically empty as he is, allowing him to crush any object of affection or trust the moment they appear. At the time of the film’s release I wrote, “There Will Be Blood plots the horrifying character arc of a man rising from nothing to the top of the heap, acquiring responsibilities along the way and then, once he has reached the summit, ridding himself of those responsibilities one by one until the film’s last, excruciatingly funny line, ‘I’m finished.’” My vote for film the decade.

The Dark Knight (2008), Christopher Nolan

The apotheosis of the comic book adaptation, wrenching a new sub-genre of the blockbuster from the hands of adolescents and elevating fantasy to startling drama. There’s still a ways to go, as they say: Batman and his troubles may never attain the heights of Oedipus Rex, or Paddy Chayefsky, but then again, Heath Ledger’s DC-inspired Joker out-Marvels Marvel, and every other performance in the genre, for a three-dimensional portrait of evil, overflowing with anguish, self-absorption and misanthropy. On top of that, an exemplary action-suspenser that should be the gold standard for many years, though it probably won’t be.

The Social Network (2010), David Fincher

What used to be known as the Eternal Verities make a forceful comeback in a most unlikely place, the contemporary story of a Web site that changed human interaction almost overnight. Let others fret about so-called accuracy, which is always in the mind of the beholder, and anyway one of this film’s central themes; The Social Network is drama in the grand tradition, unfolding a tale of class, ambition, greed, the bond of friendship and its subsequent betrayal, with dazzling portraits of a group of 20-somethings who reached for the moon and surprised themselves most of all. [Great moment @ movieclips.com: Zuckerberg Throws Down ]

The Tree of Life (2011), Terrence Malick

Pretentious it may very well be, which is what its critics chiefly assert, but then, so were Tolstoy and Dostoevsky in their day. Malick’s long-gestating, eminently ambitious rumination on what it means to be born in this universe at least addresses an issue from which lesser filmmakers shy away, defeated before they begin, and he attempts to do so with cinema – with imagery – instead of merely adding to the ocean of words we’ve had on the subject since words were invented. I believe the film is a great success, and not just because it took giant balls to make; others disagree. But really, it’s far too soon to tell.

Also very much worth the mention:

American Beauty (1999), Sam Mendes: gorgeously photographed by the legendary Conrad Hall, a multilayered satirical drama about real suburban life.

Lost in Translation (2003), Sofia Coppola: deeply influenced by classic European cinema, a delicate confection about cross-generational loneliness. ["The Most Delightful People You'll Ever Meet" @Movieclips.com]

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), Michel Gondry: The most accessible tale by postmodernist screenwriter Charlie Kaufman, an exploration of dream states and true love with a marvelous cast.

No Country for Old Men (2007), Joel and Ethan Coen: A darker-than-dark adaptation of Cormac McCarthy, and the greatest, most horrifying, deconstruction of thriller motifs since The Grifters.

The Wrestler (2008), Darren Aronofsky: Not just Mickey Rourke’s masterpiece but the beautifully measured, insightful journey of a man learning to accept himself and his destiny.

10 Great Cinematic Experiences in Languages Other Than English,

1999-2011

Talk to Her (Hable con ella; 2002, Spain), Pedro Almodóvar

Almodóvar’s best film to date is a bold, unflinching comedy about the strange friendship between two men, each of whom is devoted to a woman who happens to be in a coma. With his typical insight into the extremes of human behavior, Almodóvar goes further than perhaps any filmmaker of our time in portraying the male psyche in love and lust, tenderness and rage, without judgment or apology.

City of God (Cidade de Deus; 2003, Brazil-France), Fernando Meirelles and Kátia Lund

Frenetic and shocking, City of God recalls Luis Buñuel’s lyrical 1950 film Los Olvidados (The Forgotten Ones) in its clear-eyed portrayal of the life led by children in a crime-ridden slum, but this is the uncensored version Buñuel could never have made. Covering the rise and fall of several families during the brief reign of a psychotic young drug lord, it’s somehow more visceral and disturbing than the typical gangster film, perhaps because we expect adults to behave badly and even kid ourselves that murder is an acquired skill. But that isn’t always so. [Watch The Story of Li'l Ze  @Movieclips.com; violent R-rated content requires login]

Downfall (Der Untergang; 2004, Germany), Oliver Hirschbiegel

Inspired by the memoirs of Traudl Junge, who was a personal secretary to Adolph Hitler, Der Untergang is the most compelling fictionalized portrait of the German Chancellor ever made, a must-see drama of life in the Führerbunker during the last few months of the war in Europe. The great German actor Bruno Ganz (Wings of Desire) becomes Hitler before our eyes, nailing his peculiar Austrian accent (I’m told) and humanizing history’s most monstrous shadow, not by glorifying the madman but by showing all of his sides, the soft spoken charmer as well as the explosive demagogue.

4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days (4 luni, 3 septamâni si 2 zile; Romania-Belgium, 2007), Cristian Mungiu

Like all great films with a simple structure and minimalist style, the plainness of 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days is deceptive, hiding great depths that may sneak up on the viewer only after fade out. The story of a young woman who helps a friend to get a forbidden abortion in the days of Communist Romania, the action centers on the obstacles that the two friends face during a two day period at a shady hotel while the protagonist tries to maintain her family relationships in the outside world. The title refers to the length of her friend's pregnancy.

Pan’s Labyrinth (El laberinto del fauno; 2006, Spain-Mexico), Guillermo del Toro

A landmark fantasy film, as rich and densely layered as a novel, about a young girl living under the fascist regime of 1944 Spain who discovers a possible escape from her cruel, inhuman stepfather: a labyrinth leading to the underworld. As is del Toro’s wont when left to his own devices, the film plumbs the deep connections underlying childhood, politics and the horror genre, while employing state of the art movie magic to create a wholly believable, often terrifying alternate reality. Far beyond most practitioners of horror, del Toro draws on all the storytelling arts to give us something more than a few pleasurable gut reactions, lifting his tale into the realm of tragedy, which is where all the great tales of the genre reside. The ones I know, anyway.

Also worth mentioning:

Amores perros (2000, Mexico), Alejandro González Iñárritu: A beautifully made international hit, challenging our notions of time and fate, which weaves together three separate love stories connected by a terrible car crash.

Nowhere in Africa (Nirgendwo in Afrika; 2001, Germany), Caroline Link: This story of a German Jewish family taking refuge in Kenya during WWII pulls off the magic trick of being both unsentimental and deeply moving.

The Best of Youth (La meglio gioventù; 2003, Italy) Marco Tullio Giordana: Wonderful, subtle portrait of recent Italian history (since 1960) through the eyes of two brothers, one a revolutionary doctor, the other a tough police detective suffering from depression.

The Motorcycle Diaries (Diarios de motocicleta; 2004, Argentina-USA-Chile-Peru), Walter Salles: A great film, adapted from Che Guevara’s memoir, chronicling a life-changing trip across South America during his youth. A must-see.

The White Ribbon (Das weiße Band – Eine deutsche Kindergeschicte; 2009, Germany-Austria-France-Italy) Michael Haneke: As always with this director, an icy disapproval of the human race permeates. A dramatization of how terrorism initially takes root in daily life – in this case, a small German village on the eve of world war. 

10 Exceptional Sci-Fi/Fantasy Movies, 1999-2011

I was weaned on sci-fi/fantasy movies, the youngest of genres and one that has been slower than others in adopting the forms and ideas of its print sources. But film Sci-Fi/Fantasy has gotten smarter since ’99 and The Matrix, thanks in part to more discerning audiences, in part to a new generation of moviemakers who believe, at last, that it can be about more than just BEMs (bug-eyed monsters), scheming wizards, and Joseph Campbell’s Hero of a Thousand Faces. It can in fact wrap itself around any other genre and make us see reality anew, while still entertaining our socks off.

28 Days Later (2002), Danny Boyle

The man who gave us the indelible Trainspotting back in the mid-nineties turned to edge-of-your-seat horror with this bedtime story about survivors of a plague that, essentially, turns people into zombies on amphetamines. There’s no running and stumbling away from these monsters. But the film’s substance emerges from its harrowing portrait of the evil that men get up to when forming a new society, and it ain’t pretty.

Children of Men (2006), Alfonso Cuarón

Cuarón (Y tú mama también) also imagines a near-future world wracked by plague and social collapse, but his film’s epidemic renders humanity infertile, save for one woman who must be saved at all costs. Proving that it’s not the story you tell but how you tell it, Cuarón relies on minimal visual effects and virtuoso camerawork to fashion a sci-fi chase thriller which roams across an utterly believable, devastated world in search of new life. [Check out astonishing animatronic baby in "It's a Girl" @Movieclips.com; childbirth and language requires login]

Star Trek (2009), J.J. Abrams

The hypercreative Abrams boldly (yes, boldly) reimagines the most beloved and contentious sci-fi franchise in media history, and if you’re not on board, well, the old stuff will always be there for you. Uproarious, audacious and perfectly cast, Abrams’ Star Trek jumps headlong into an alternative history for Kirk, Spock, et al, giving us the chance to meet the characters as if for the first time and all the while playing expertly with the standard tropes and themes of Gene Roddenberry’s familiar universe. It’s the reboot of the decade, if you ask me, because it really came out of nowhere, defying every known expectation, good and/or bad.

Inception (2010), Christopher Nolan

A genre-bending, Hitchcockian chase thriller using the very structure of consciousness as its Mount Rushmore. Some folks found it a little too cerebral for their taste, but it’s really not that hard to follow once you understand Nolan is juggling parallel actions happening in different time frames, while the film’s team of experts moves deeper into a man’s unconscious mind. Okay, I admit it: potentially exhausting. But if you don’t mind paying a little attention during an action movie, it’s engrossing and provocative, like all of Nolan’s work, and even if you do mind, the eye candy is mind blowing.

Midnight in Paris (2011), Woody Allen

Woody’s first real foray into fantasy since the 90s may seem like a featherweight entry compared to other films I’ve listed here, but in spite of its seeming ethereality Midnight in Paris is a lovely rumination on the mystery of a great city, the nature of creativity, and the downside of nostalgia, transporting its wistful 21st century protagonist back to the storied Paris of the 1920s. While he’s at it, Woody also pokes good fun at the Lost Generation, which created one of the most influential literary movements in history, and teases our culture’s fascination with a) celebrity and b) romance. His finest comedy since Bullets Over Broadway. [Just a taste of  Owen Wilson Meets Hemingway @Movieclips.com]

also worth mentioning:

Minority Report (2002), Steven Spielberg: An action-packed paranoid journey through a near future where the state can arrest you just for thinking about murder. 

King Kong (2005), Peter Jackson: The remake many of us wanted, gloriously over the top perhaps, but a labor of love nonetheless, emphasizing a giant ape with a multidimensional personality.

WALL-E (2008), Andrew Stanton: One of many superb Pixar films of the last decade, it begins as an extraordinarily affecting silent movie and ends in knee-slapping satire of consumer culture on board a generation starship.

District 9 (2009), Neill Blomkamp: An excellent allegory of human injustice against the Other, using Apartheid as its starting point. Does a wonderful job of slowly-but-surely making its fearsome aliens sympathetic.

Moon (2009), Duncan Jones: Essentially a one man show, with the great Sam Rockwell manning a lunar outpost, appearing to crack-up as his tour of duty expires. Terrific world building on a small budget.

10 Exceptional Mystery/Suspense Thrillers, 1999-2011

Another genre on which I was raised, and for which I maintain an intense interest. Sometimes confused with straight drama or comedy because its concerns overlap, the key elements of the Mystery/Suspense rubric seem to be intricate plotting, confused protagonists whose pasts are either catching up with them or at least haunting them, and fierce action motivated by the story (that is, lasting no longer than necessary). Within these limits, there remains a world of good moviemaking to fill your Saturday nights.

The Bourne Identity (2002), Doug Liman

Halfway through watching this high speed roller coaster adaptation of Robert Ludlum, I thought it was the best Bond movie in four decades, meaning that it captured the sheer storytelling thrill which made the earliest Bonds a success. Later on, Paul Greengrass, Mr. Shakycam himself, would take over directing the Bourne sequels while Liman merely produced, spawning the usual unfortunate imitators, but here at its beginning the series is lean, mean, sensuous entertainment which stays within the realm of physics, and a sensational thriller that bears repeated viewing. [One of the quieter moments, "Why Would I Know That?"  @Movieclips.com]

Oldboy (Oldeuboi; 2003, South Korea), Park Chan-wook

Extremely influential on both sides of the Pacific, based on a Japanese Manga, Oldboy is no-holds barred Asian revenge opera (which I personally think is a close relative of Greek tragedy), blood-drenched and pervaded with gloom. The quest of a man named Oh Dae-su to discover why he has been imprisoned for 15 years, the film swerves through several disturbing twists and revelations on its way to a body-strewn climax. This sort of heightened crime drama began with John Woo’s Hong Kong epics in the late 80s and influenced many filmmakers, but Park Chan-wook has given it a stylishness and depth few imitators can match.

Match Point (2005), Woody Allen

Just when reviewers and audiences had written him off, Woody upended all expectations with this unblinking tribute to Dreiser’s An American Tragedy, via James M. Cain and then set in Britain, the chilling tale of a social climbing tennis pro who plots to kill his needy mistress when she threatens his marriage to an heiress. Like Crimes and Misdemeanors but without the parallel comic plot, Match Point reveals the real Woody: a stone cold misanthrope who wishes human beings were better than they are but who knows that, alas, they’re not.

Munich (2005), Steven Spielberg

Spielberg’s best film of the 2000s is a post-9/11 study of the toll which retaliatory vengeance takes on the purest hearts. Stripped of Bond-style glamour and employing the matter-of-fact realpolitik of the Middle East in the 1970s (and maybe now, too), Munich is about various attempts by the Mossad to assassinate those responsible for the murder of Israeli athletes at the 1972 Olympics. Mostly seen through the eyes of the fictional team leader Avner, Spielberg emphasizes not only the difficulty of bringing off each killing, in some of the best set pieces of his career, but the crushing monotony and emptiness that sets in when good people become warriors for extended periods of time. Vastly underrated in the U.S., a popular hit overseas.

The Departed (2006), Martin Scorsese

A splashy, brutal epic of crime and corruption in America filled with non-stop plot twists, breathless suspense and great acting from an ensemble cast of three generations of movie stars (including a very un-Bourne-like Matt Damon), it’s Scorsese’s most entertaining film since Goodfellas. Paced like a runaway train, The Departed stuffs more narrative juice into its two-and-a-half hours of hopeless moral labyrinth than a dozen other crime movies.

also worth mentioning:

The Insider (1999), Michael Mann: Riveting true story of Jeffrey Wigand, a chemist who blew the whistle on the tobacco industry. Unremittingly tense, superbly acted by Russell Crowe and Al Pacino.

U-571 (2000), Jonathan Mostow: Everything a WWII submarine adventure should be, a bald-faced edge-of-your-seater by a talented director, generously mixing fact, fiction and suspense. [Eavesdrop on Tyler's Life or Death Strategy @Movieclips.com]

Gosford Park (2001), Robert Altman: The final masterwork of a great director, a sumptuous blend of Altman’s “Life is a Carnival” vision with an upstairs/downstairs murder mystery set in a 1930s English country house.

A History of Violence (2005), David Cronenberg: A master of suggestive style invokes an implacable minimalism for this straightforward drama of a former mobster confronted by enemies from his past, including his sinister, heartless brother. Based on a graphic novel.

The Ghost Writer (2010), Roman Polanski: The old Roman resurfaced with a vengeance for this creepy, uneasy thriller about the second ghost writer assigned to write the memoirs of a Tony Blair-like figure, after the first dies in a *cough* accident. Steeped in post-9/11 politics everyone wants to forget.

13 of My Favorite Little-Seen Movies, 1999-2011

You Can Count on Me (2000), Kenneth Lonergan: Exquisitely written tale of a harried single mother (Laura Linney) dealing with her bad-penny brother (Mark Ruffalo) on top of everything else. Casually insightful, one of many, many fine performances by Linney in the past 13 years.

The Man Who Wasn’t There (2001), Joel and Ethan Coen: Willfully lackadaisical film noir tribute (in gorgeous black-and-white by the great cinematographer Roger Deakins), mixing 1950s barbershop techniques, adultery, murder, and Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle. For Coen fans, much more than meets the eye.

Far from Heaven (2002), Todd Haynes: A high point of the postmodernist aesthetic by a great practitioner, exploring the institutional racism and homophobia of 1950s America through the lens of Douglas Sirk’s melodramatic films from the same period, which often tackled the same themes. Includes yet another criminally overlooked performance by Dennis Quaid. [The 50s medical view of sexual orientation is outlined in  "I Can't Let This Thing Destroy My Life" @Movieclips.com]

The Quiet American (2002), Phillip Noyce: Perhaps the best Graham Greene adaptation ever; the deadly subtleties of romantic and political jealousy in 1955 Vietnam, East not only meeting West, but the West fighting with itself. Michael Caine and Brendan Fraser at their best.

Matchstick Men (2003), Ridley Scott: First-rate performances enhance a very un-Ridley-like character study of a con man whose long lost daughter shows up out of the blue, begging to learn the craft. The kind of film Nick Cage should do all the time; Ridley, too, for that matter.

Cinderella Man (2005), Ron Howard: Highly fictionalized portrait of boxer Jim Braddock (Russell Crowe), whose comeback from hard times inspired millions during the Great Depression. Superb recreation of the era, a beautifully done, old fashioned movie-movie.

The Family Stone (2005), Thomas Bezucha: I’m not in the habit of recommending holiday-themed romcoms, but this one is extremely insightful about families and outsiders, often in uncomfortable ways, which is why it received mixed reviews.

The Squid and the Whale (2005), Noah Baumbach: One of the best indie films of the 2000s, very close to being a masterpiece if it isn’t already there, uncovering the private war of divorce in an upper middle class family of the 1980s. Exceptional on every level, but especially in the semi-autobiographical writing and the outstanding ensemble acting, particularly by Owen Kline (son of Kevin) as the confused baby of the family. [Watch Frank Decides What He Wants to Be @Movieclips.com; R-rated language requires login]

The Painted Veil (2006), John Curran: Edward Norton and Naomi Watts as W. Somerset Maugham’s warring newlyweds, discovering themselves and each other in a remote area of pre-revolutionary China. Fans of the novel may balk at changes, but this is a wonderful film about how love – sometimes – happens.

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007), Andrew Dominik: Great adaptation of Ron Hansen’s 1983 novel about the notorious outlaw’s final years, underlining the sad allure of fame in American life, even back in the 1800s. Scrupulously realistic and perceptive; more fine photography by Roger Deakins; brilliant cast.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007), Tim Burton: A long simmering labor of love by the director and Johnny Depp, bringing Stephen Sondheim’s 1979 Grand Guignol musical to the screen with all its mad, operatic, horrific force intact. Not for the faint of heart.

The Hurt Locker (2008), Kathryn Bigelow: An apolitical, episodic war film without a moral, mostly focused on the leader of a bomb disposal unit who is addicted to conquering his own fear. No attempt is made to explain the title, but the film opens with a quote from a real war correspondent: “The rush of battle is a potent and often lethal addiction, for war is a drug.” [A probable clue to the title, "Stuff that Almost Killed Me" @Movieclips.com]

The Visitor (2008), Thomas McCarthy: Terrific indie drama by the director of The Station Agent (also worth seeing) about a shy professor who, purely by accident, finds himself befriending a sweet Middle Eastern couple who are fighting deportation. A spare, emotional powerhouse.

20 Great Performances, 1999-2011

I’m in agreement with Meryl Streep, who recently told Morley Safer that she thinks the art and craft of film acting is better, overall, than it was in the classic studio era. As much as I love the old days and continue to study them in every aspect, as much as I believe we could not have the cinema we have if it hadn’t been for them, acting is indeed better than ever.

The downside is we are more likely to see a great performance than a great movie, but that’s in the nature of art, perhaps, and the requirements of a collaborative art form. Some of the best acting I saw in the last decade-and-a-third, ladies first: 

The Women

Hilary Swank in Boys Don’t Cry (1999): A groundbreaking performance in a groundbreaking film that helped bring to light the reality of the transgender life, including its mortal dangers. Swank, who had struggled primarily in minor TV roles for a decade before this opportunity, made real life murder victim Brandon Teena come alive in all of his charm, naiveté and tragic desire, epitomizing a new kind of protagonist for American drama.

Naomi Watts in Mulholland Dr. (2001): Close to being the female performance of the decade; certainly no one else quite matched Watts’ additional achievement of turning her big break into a career as a bankable star. In any case it’s an actress’ dream to perfectly essay two roles in one film, demonstrating a complete mastery over her instrument, and after 15 years of obscurity in minor roles Watts pounced on Betty Elms/Diane Selwyn like a lioness on an antelope. She’s also been known to do a hilarious impersonation of David Lynch.

Amy Adams in Junebug (2005): It’s a gift to portray childlike innocence without allowing even a trace of self-consciousness to seep into the performance. The camera will reveal the lie, even if the performer doesn’t. Amy Adams’ portrayal of this film’s Ashley Johnsten, a struggling pregnant woman who’s never seen a day she couldn’t love, might lead us to suspect she couldn’t possibly be acting; no one is that delightful through pure artistry. If you have doubts, compare Adams’ turn in The Fighter (2010) as Charlene Fleming, a working class chick who’s been around the block several times.

Meryl Streep in Julie & Julia (2009): I’ve known detractors to remark that, with Marvelous Meryl, they too often see the wheels turning. I propose that this is baloney. Every film actor knows that the camera reveals what they’re thinking, or hiding, and uses it to shape their characters scene by scene. Meryl only lets us see what she wants us to see. In this masterfully pleasant comedy she pulls off one of her most convincing transformations in three decades on-screen, radiating the humor and humanity of Julia Child, the most famous American chef ever. [see "I'm Growing in Front of You" @Movieclips.com]

Jennifer Lawrence in Winter’s Bone (2010): As Ree, a backwoods girl fighting desperately to keep her family together in the midst of adult corruption and life-threatening violence, Ms. Lawrence disappears inside her character and dominates an experienced cast of character actors. She achieves this, as all great screen actors ultimately do, with her eyes, plus the body language of an old soul. I haven’t seen such a wise performance by a teenager since Leonardo DiCaprio in This Boy’s Life (1993).

Also worth mentioning:

Maggie Gyllenhaal in Secretary (2002)

Charlize Theron in Monster (2003)
Marion Cotillard in La Vie en Rose (2007; as Edith Piaf)
Penélope Cruz in Vicky Christina Barcelona (2008)
Mo’Nique in Precious (2009)

The Men

Paul Giamatti in American Splendor (2003), Sideways (2004), Cinderella Man (2005) and HBO’s John Adams (2008): Giamatti has become the great character actor of our time, turning his unusual appearance into its own virtue. With his stage-trained voice and ability to find the emotional center of seemingly any character, Giamatti creates neurotic artists, crafty fight managers and fiery political legends with equal plausibility, and all while adding an extra spotlight to the likes of Russell Crowe and Laura Linney. He doesn’t steal scenes, he enriches them.

Bruno Ganz in Downfall (2004): Many actors have tackled the portrayal of Adolph Hitler – he’s as irresistible to thespians as the Joker or Iago – but none have captured his brooding reality quite like Bruno Ganz in this career-capping tour de force. He is Der Führer whether he’s in a thundering rage, the part most actors look forward to, or more often, filling a room with quiet malevolence.

Heath Ledger in Brokeback Mountain (2005): You can see the wheels turning inside Ennis Del Mar from his first moment on screen, the subtle hints of a lifetime of emotional pain, and frustration and terror and overwhelming drives that he could never articulate even if he wanted to. The timbre of his voice reveals the profound self-consciousness of a man who must make the world believe he’s macho to the core, for to be anything else in his place and time is a death sentence and, unlike his lover, he knows it. [Heath as Ennis in "See You Around" @Movieclips.com; R-rated language requires login]

Frank Langella in Frost/Nixon (2008): Langella can’t help infusing his characters with great size and commanding presence, so he would seem to be an odd choice to portray the altogether average 37th POTUS, Richard M. Nixon. But Langella’s performance cuts through decades of parody and impersonation to make Nixon larger than life again, recreating his last public meltdown during a famous round of televised interviews. David Frost got Nixon to betray himself with the statement “I’m saying that when the President does it, it’s not illegal.” It was a moment that sank whatever credibility the former President may have had, but really, was he wrong? Has anything happened in the past decade to discredit ol’ Tricky Dick’s vision of the office?

Colin Firth in The King’s Speech (2010): Throughout his three decades on-screen, Firth has been most comfortable portraying emotionally stunted men who rarely triumph over their neuroses, so it was really no surprise that he was perfect for the role of Britain’s George VI, the man who never wanted to be king. Thanks to an exceptional script by David Seidler, Firth finds a brilliant showcase for his full range as an actor, not only making us feel the terror of an unwanted international spotlight, or the insurmountable burden of leading an entire nation, but doing so with vast wit, charm and intelligence (while his co-stars, Geoffrey Rush and Helena Bonham Carter, also score personal bests).

Also very much worth mentioning:

John Malkovich in Being John Malkovich (1999) and Ripley’s Game (2002)

Daniel Day-Lewis in There Will Be Blood (2007)
Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler (2008)
Christoph Waltz in Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Jesse Eisenberg in The Social Network (2010)

10 Highly Recommended Documentaries, 1999-2011

In the last decade-and-a-third, the documentary has risen into the collective consciousness as a powerful art form all its own, and as a surprising vehicle for news reporting in an age when media conglomerates perpetually squash information and ideas that are counter to their interests. Or their owners’ interests. Ah, monopoly. Documentary filmmaking is the fastest growing cinematic genre, and unlike any other time in film history, it’s suddenly possible to make a documentary and get it seen. Any kid with a few bucks and a camera can get a documentary made. Meanwhile, certified masters are also turning to the form as a parallel means of expression.

9/11 (2002), Jules and Gédéon Naudet, and James Hanlon

I thought I was indifferent to any further retelling of what happened on September 11, 2001 until I saw this riveting, horrifying, unforgettable chronicle of how the day unfolded for the FDNY’s Engine 7/Ladder 1, the first responders who arrived at the World Trade Center just minutes after the first plane hit the North Tower. Originally meant to be the record of a rookie fireman’s first weeks on the job, the filmmakers suddenly found themselves more than mere witnesses to history; they became unwilling participants in a real life disaster. This is what it’s like. Easily one of the greatest documentaries ever made, eyewitness accounts do not come any more immediate or harrowing. First broadcast on CBS in 2002, it was updated and re-broadcast this past year as 9/11: Ten Years Later, adding new interviews with the remaining survivors.

Grizzly Man (2005), Werner Herzog

A breathtaking chronicle of ordinary madness by a filmmaker who has been known to flirt with the edge of sanity himself, Grizzly Man unfolds the tragedy of Timothy Treadwell, an unemployed actor who loved bears so much he tried to become one of them and was killed and eaten by one in 2003. Using Treadwell’s own video journals, plus interviews with his family and associates, Herzog develops a fascinating picture of a man who lost touch with reality, and with the very Nature he thought he knew. A frank and unforgiving film you can’t stop watching.

An Inconvenient Truth (2007), Davis Guggenheim

Mostly a straight-on record of a presentation Gore has been giving about climate change for more than thirty years, so you’ll either love it or hate it depending on your willingness to believe in science or the unending benefits of petroleum. [A brief explanation of The Science of Global Warming @Movieclips.com]

Food, Inc. (2008), Robert Kenner

A dazzling work about the ruination of our food system over the last two decades through the overproduction of corn and the criminal abuse of livestock, chemicals and patent laws by the food industry. And it is an industry, every bit as dangerous to the environment and your well-being as Big Oil.

Inside Job (2010), Charles Ferguson

The origins of the Great Recession, including major players, and the complete failure of the current administration, or Congress, or you or me, to hold a single Wall Street pirate accountable. The film will not make you feel good, but you will understand what happened a whole lot better.

Also recommended:

Touching the Void (2003), Kevin Macdonald: Electrifying survival tale of mountain climbing in the Andes, with re-enactments narrated by the original participants.

No Direction Home: Bob Dylan (2005), Martin Scorsese: The education of a musical legend, from his obscure origins to sixties superstardom.

Sicko (2007), Michael Moore: The provocateur’s best essay, a ruthless critique of the failed health care system.

Taxi to the Dark Side (2007), Alex Gibney: Using the case of a luckless Iraqi taxi driver who died in American custody as a starting point, a sickening journey through America’s not-so-secret torture program.

Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired (2008), Marina Zenovich: The vagaries of US justice, Southern California-style, plus modern trial by the media and the terrors of Polanski’s early life.