Fataculture

I don’t know about anyone else, but I couldn’t be happier to see the year that was 2008 come to an end. From economic woes weighing down the entire world, including the motion picture industry, to personal misfortunes, one thing I am grateful for is that while 2007 may have been a banner year for film, 2008, for me, provided far more in terms of opportunities to quietly reflect. This can be seen in my chosen top ten, right through to my honourable mentions; smaller, meditative films that impacted on me the most are ultimately those that I was able to appreciate and revere more so than others.

That is where the notion of what the best films of each year gets murky, so I shall refrain from calling them that. The films listed here are those that affected me the most and those that have uniformly shaken me to my core. Luckily, there was a flood of such films that, despite the difficulties facing foreign language and independent films in the industry, continued flowing throughout the year. And in turn, rippled throughout my movie-loving consciousness leaving me nothing short of elated.

There are quite a few films and most notably documentaries that I found particularly arresting to wildly entertaining that I should mention (self-indulgently, but that’s what a end of year write up precisely is). I’m going to group my honourable mentions, what a pathetic term, into three subjective categories and get it over and done with; the commercially inclined, the documentaries and the artsy, poetic and profound.

The Memorable Others

1. Gus Van Sant’s “Milk” was so close to making my top ten list, but alas. Nevertheless, with or without its connection to present moral dilemmas that still plague the existence of homosexual individuals, “Milk” is a fine film, and yet another testament to Van Sant’s capabilities as a true modern masterworker – be it through conventional, almost commercial means or intimate works of art, one cannot deny that the man has skill and it resonates throughout “Milk” all the same. “The Dark Knight” almost restored my love for comic book adaptations – which never existed in the first place, so that’s saying something. Although, at this point only Heath Ledger’s legendary turn as The Joker remains resonant to me.

Woody Allen, one of my favourite auteurs, surprised me in ways I never expected with his “Vicky Cristina Barcelona.” Relaxed, breezy and unpretentiously observant, the master has never been more assured and it shows, in a good way. David Fincher’s “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button,” while flawed, is a masterpiece of technique and an emotionally and spiritually stimulating film, unlike any other big, studio film this year. For its messy, maudlin structure, “Australia,” to me, remained dazzling nonetheless. Finally, “Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist” might be a slight piece of teenage fluff, but it’s a tasteful, intuitive one and certainly the best mainstream film about teenagers made since crude comedy became the norm.

2. Without a doubt in my mind, “Man on Wire” is the finest documentary of the year. Finely modulated and affecting, few fiction films manage to entertain and move as profoundly as James Marsh’s lauded doc does. “Dear Zachary” may tug at the heartstrings, “Patti Smith: Dream of Life” may be as poetic and artful as they come and “Encounters at the End of the World” may ultimately be the finest documentary technically, but “American Teen” is hands down, no contest my favourite documentary of the year for reasons expressed perhaps too enthusiastically here.

3. “I’ve Loved You So Long” may be the only film I consider a masterpiece that didn’t make the final cut in terms of my final ten, but if I thought ties weren’t like cheating, it would have been there. Kristin Scott Thomas gives the finest performance of her brilliant career, and she gracefully carries the dramatic mystery of a film to heights of pure excellence. “Silent Light” is a meditative, haunting look at religion and the divine within the context of a small, isolated community. While it does so breathtakingly, its notable mostly for the magnificence of its opening and closing shots. “Water Lilies” comes close to matching the raw power of Sofia Coppola’s “The Virgin Suicides,” and is a respectful look at the lives of burgeoning teenage girls that honestly took my breath away.

“My Blueberry Nights” is intoxicatingly stunning, and follows a moody, neon-lit path to nowhere in particular but is magical enough to ignite a passion in one for the romantic things in life. “Hunger” impacts on an emotional level which is surprisingly hard to articulate, because its such a brutal film that covers an ugly part of history, but it does so beautifully, thanks mostly to an astonishing turn by Michael Fassbender. Finally, Jonathan Demme’s ode to all things Altman, “Rachel Getting Married” is another film I was upset about not being able to fit it into the final ten. Nevertheless, it’s a remarkable return to form for the director and finally announces to the rest of the world that Anne Hathaway is force to be reckoned with.

The Top Ten

10. “Synecdoche, New York“ by Charlie Kaufman

I always knew and appreciated that Charlie Kaufman is the single most imaginative, original screenwriter working today, and one of his screenplays ended up being directed by the almost nauseatingly whimsical Michel Gondry and subsequently leaped straight onto my “all time favourites” list –” Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.” So when news broke that he would be directing one of his own screenplays, I was at once curious and almost nervous – what if he wasn’t up to the task? What if his surreal, non-linear story is crushed under the weight of his obsession with detail? Luckily, this is the first time I believe that his one of his screenplays turned out as exactly what he envisioned it to be, without hindrance of a third party non-visionary.

“Synecdoche, New York,” a part of a whole career of otherworldly, unconventional tales pushes the boundaries of cinematic exploration of life, death and the in-between, is brought to life by a pitch-perfect cast, featuring an unmatched female ensemble and Philip Seymour Hoffman as Kaufman’s personal vessel through which his nervous pontifications seem profound. At the very least, there is a heartbreaking sensitivity to “Synecdoche,” a cold, detached film that takes time to warm up to – but once one does, the rewards are rather surprising.

9. “Wendy and Lucy“ by Kelly Reichardt

It is an unspoken fact that most of us are one step away from losing everything we call our own. One mistake, one miscalculation or misjudgment and we could break away from society and be cast into the depths of our own helplessness. That is the starting block through which Kelly Reichardt pronounces her small, almost wordless drama “Wendy and Lucy,” but she doesn’t extend her focus there and leave it at that. In 80 minutes, she paints a personal portrait of a lost woman with nothing to her name and no one in her life to so much as call out her name to her, as well as a scathing indictment of the flaws of society’s governance.

Alone, save for her gorgeous dog Lucy, Wendy is a character who stands for the plight of the hopeless in a society filled with the very same people, the only difference being that they have the means to distract themselves from their problems long enough to not become consumed by them. Michelle Williams gives her single best performance of her suddenly blossoming career as Wendy – and she doesn’t even say or do anything melodramatic or explosive to convey her deep sadness and loneliness in a world that has not only forgotten who she is, but probably never cared to begin with. It is because of her, mostly, that “Wendy and Lucy” is as affecting as it is.

8. “Slumdog Millionaire“ by Danny Boyle

I was so close to not seeing this film in 2008 – it opens officially in South Africa on the 6th of March, alongside “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” which didn’t make the cut for this list, which would have been most unfortunate. Danny Boyle’s range as a filmmaker is astounding – from the gritty “Trainspotting” to the emotionally rewarding, vastly underrated “Millions” and now to a fantastical look at the nature of fate set in India with “Slumdog Millionaire.”

Darting around the streets and slums of India with the most blistering, kaleidoscopic intensity imaginable, his latest ode to love, life and destiny is breathless and relentlessly hopeful despite being rooted in the company of some truly horrendous occurrences. Edited with the efficiency of a music video, “Slumdog” is a film for dreamers, grounded dreamers, and romantics who don’t mind their reality tinted with flecks of absolute hope against a vast array of obstacles. “Slumdog Millionaire” most certainly is a celebration of life, and in that regard, I can’t help but celebrate the success in which it perfectly balances every aspect of its incredible design.

7. “Happy-Go-Lucky“ by Mike Leigh

Mike Leigh, critically adored and criminally misunderstood, isn’t one to shy away from the misfortunate aspects of everyday life to acts of desperation of ordinary people in extraordinarily pressurizing positions. “Vera Drake” displayed his deft handling of the latter, and his latest film “Happy-Go-Lucky” the former. Centered on an upbeat, sunny side up Poppy, played to nuanced perfection by Sally Hawkins, Leigh illuminates the volatility and unhappiness of society through the interaction and counteraction of Poppy against the rest of the world, or at least her world.

Mistaken at first, by myself and numerous others, as a character study of Poppy herself, much reflection and subsequent viewings later revealed to me that “Happy-Go-Lucky” is a character study of life itself, and our constant unwillingness to manipulate our hardships into opportunities’ to grow and to become more than just the sum of our personality flaws. “You can’t make everyone happy!” exclaims Poppy’s best friend Zoe, to which Poppy replies, “There’s no harm in trying though, is there?” And with that, we are given a reason to live life a little differently if we lead, at least somewhat, by Poppy’s example and shrug the bad and the worthless off and brace ourselves for another day and another year with a different perspective and the chance to make a difference, even on a small scale.

6. “WALL-E“ by Andrew Stanton

Although it’s an all together remarkable feat of seamless animation and glorious enchantment, nothing quite comes close to being flat out extraordinary in “WALL-E” as its first twenty minutes or so. Silent and desolate, we watch as a quirky robot sifts through mass after mass of waste and destruction, finding glimmers of curiosity in the things us humans take very much for granted. It is here, in a humanless, barren landscape that the single most effective take on the effects of human negligence on our Earth occurs. Without a word spoken, our entire existence as a thoughtless species is satirized by a robot. It’s otherworldly and if I may say so, something of a masterpiece. The rest of the picture is solid and entertaining, still poking fun at our expense – it’s not as though we don’t deserve it – and is still painstakingly beautiful, more so than any other animated film I have ever seen in my life.

5. “Revolutionary Road“ by Sam Mendes

It would be understandable for one to assume “Revolutionary Road” to be yet another film about the hell that lies within the idyllic confinements of Suburbia. To believe the same after having the seen the film would be a gross miscalculation and a grave misunderstanding of what both Richard Yates and now Sam Mendes are trying to put across. For the film is not about the fact that the Wheeler’s move to the ordinary, dull suburbs is what causes their decomposition – mentally and emotionally – the suburbs and Revolutionary Road are merely backdrops to the excuses DiCaprio’s character Frank devises to numb the pain of his most ordinary, commonplace existence.

“Revolutionary Road” is about a failed marriage, a failed man, a wife who believes her husband’s failure is of her own doing – it has absolutely nothing to do with the suburbs at all, or any physical setting in fact, but rather the motivations and lack thereof that lie deep within. Yates’ novel was a deeply rich indictment of people’s blatant disregard of their own flaws and their insecurity in living out their desires for fear of failure; and it would no doubt pose an incredible amount of difficulty in the adaptation process as the subtext that lies within is just as effectual as the dialogue expressed in April and Frank’s explosive arguments.

Too much detail and too much overly obvious insight into the inner workings of the central characters would have meant that the films assured quality and mature preening would have been lost due to over simplifying a dense, complex narrative. Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, joining forces again for the first time in eleven years, are nothing short of electrifying together, in the moments of cerebral silence and in their aforementioned arguments. It is because of their chemistry that “Revolutionary Road” packs the considerable punch it does, and it does so without a hint of manipulation. “Revolutionary Road,” to these eyes, is a milestone for all involved.

4. “Reprise“ by Joachim Trier

If you haven’t noticed by now, I am a complete sucker for films that portray modern youth and its various cultural ticks in meditative, reflective, artful ways – a preferred flavor of cinema of mine ever since “Thirteen” and “The Virgin Suicides” seared themselves onto my brain, only pushing my interest into discovering other successful mediations on teenage and youth culture in the world of film. My major discovery was this; the Europeans do a finer job of respecting and illuminating the lives of their youths than the Americans ever have and probably ever could, save for a few examples of truly fine American filmmaking as mentioned above.

This year alone there were two films that shone a reverential light on their young subjects like no other; one for the girls in “Water Lilies” and one for the boys in Joachim Trier’s “Reprise.” It doesn’t come as too much of a surprise to hear of whispered comparisons between Trier as a filmmaker and Charlie Kaufman – to me however, their sensibilities couldn’t be more different. For one, Trier seems to have a genuinely optimistic tone – Reprise, while heavy, thoughtful stuff never becomes as tangled up in self-loathing and self-depreciation as a few of Kaufman’s penned films have.

Superficially, both “Reprise” and “Synecdoche” are directorial debuts that hinge on the idea of the tortured artist – both writers – and both deal with a certain level of mental instability. However, to me “Reprise” is more genuine in its explorations, almost gravely tender, whilst “Synecdoche” poses its surrealist neurotic contemplations on life in a more comic manner, placing the former in a more immediately affecting light for me personally. Regardless, both are pitch perfect debuts that spark debate and endless opportunities for a multitude of interpretations. It just so happens to be my belief that “Reprise” is one of the most impressive directorial debuts of the year.

3. “4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days“ by Cristian Mungiu

I hadn’t even heard of the Romanian New Wave until this year, but I am thrilled to admit that I am now a huge fan. “The Death of Mr. Lazarescu” and “12:08 East of Bucharest” were the first films of the movement I had the pleasure – if one can call it that – of viewing, but I was more or less left wanting more. Cristian Mungiu’s “4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days” satisfied that want, and then some. His rich tapestry of interwoven conjurations of Communist oppression framed around an illegal abortion goes to brutal, ferocious places few films dare to but what is more, he manages to maintain a neutral stance throughout. Of course, he never loses site of his vivid human characters that give the otherwise chillingly cold film dynamism, adding yet another layer of riveting potency. I haven’t been so uncomfortable yet unwilling to look away from the screen in a long time. If this particular cinematic movement could get any better, I’d be surprised.

2. “The Wrestler“ by Darren Aronofsky

Those who worship Darren Aronofsky’s metaphysical mindfuck “The Fountain,” may find themselves under whelmed by the simple, realistic nature of “The Wrestler,” perhaps even to the point where they might call it “unambitious.” I believe that Aronofsky’s hanging up of his surrealist gloves in favour of a small-scoped, emotional drama is his most ambitious move yet. Far more than just a comeback vehicle for Mickey Rourke, giving one of the year’s best performances, the film traces the down-and-out life of a former wrestling superstar coming to terms with the fact that his days in the ring are not only numbered but they may just lead to his death.

It’s a character study in every sense of the word, and packs quite the emotional punch because of its compassionate, tender and taught focus, elevated by world-class performances by two of the most underrated character actresses around; Marisa Tomei and Evan Rachel Wood. “The Wrestler” hits almost not false notes, and even if it did, Rourke’s iconic performance would still put it leagues above anything Aronofsky has done before.

1. “Paranoid Park“ by Gus Van Sant

Being something of a newcomer to the Gus Van Sant sensibility when I saw “Paranoid Park” for the first time, I wasn’t quite sure how it would stand up against the rest of his portfolio. I did my research and have now seen just about every film he has ever made; Paranoid Park is the most moving, elliptical, resonantly haunting film of his entire, magnificent career – undoubtedly, his most deeply felt look into the male soul. Some blatantly categorize his achievements as being beautifully homoerotic and leave it there.

There is far more to them than that, particularly in Paranoid Park; there is an essence of personal infusion whereby the desperate dilemma of his underage protagonist is lifted out of the realm of being a filmic character and his dilemma becomes our own, his fears are our own too. We witnessed what he did, and with that, we are guilty bystanders, trapped in a blanket of culpability that is unshakable and powerful. Personally, there are strands of “Paranoid Park” that I can identify with my own life and my own past, so naturally my experience with the film is going to be entirely different than that of any other – the same goes for any film really.

Over and above the intimate, beautifully rendered characters and touching, evocative situations that Van Sant so lyrically lays out before us, Paranoid Park is a work of art and a true achievement of stunning filmmaking. Capturing the flights of the skaters as they leap into the air, free of the confinements of their earthbound issues, in a romantic, dreamlike sense of awe, scenes where Van Sant’s characters are observed, often speaking but muted, and music swells to envelope and to ignite a deeper sense of emotion and understanding – are just a few examples. The simplicity of the story is heightened because of Van Sant’s respect for his characters, and with that the finest film of 2008 was created, and shall forever remain as one of the most profound and truly, deeply moving films made in my time. ~ NP