LISTS: Dominic Mercurio's Top 10 Films of 2011

Dominic Mercurio has been an insightful intern for The Evening Class this past year, writing on the Disposable Film Festival's Bay Area premiere of Kevin MacDonald's Life In A Day and dispatching from the Palm Springs International ShortFest and the Mill Valley International Film Festival. It's with great pleasure that I offer up his year-end list, in reverse order.

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10. Lotus Eaters (written & directed by Alexandra McGuinness). When I first saw the trailer for this film I thought to myself "looks sorta like that TV show Skins" (of which I mean the original British version ... don't even get me started on the American MTV bullshit remake) and I wasn't entirely off base. This film is sex, drugs, and rock and roll—plain and simple; but it does so with heart and searing visual flair. It all made sense in the Q&A after the screening when writer / director Alexandra McGuinness explained that she had a background as a stylist and a large interest in fashion, because the way this film is photographed is a bit reminiscent of classic fashion photography. Lotus Eaters follows a group of young upper class Brits living their life in that aimless cycle that we all at some point or another fell into in our teenage years. At the center is a blooming yet turbulent relationship between two of the main characters Alice and Charlie, the latter of which has a bit of a drug problem.

The movie spirals around their lives as if a fly on the wall is taking you from one situation to the next, whether it be a wild party with vodka-baths, or buying ridiculous clothing accessories. The movie is lean at 78 minutes, and is light on plot but heavy on character. It was the last act of the film that had me hooked. Once the wave finally crashes down on the never-ending party these lads live, it begins to take a more pensive route; one that ultimately ends up making this film a wild ride. Top that off with Alexandra's seriously kick-ass taste in music (I'm talking best soundtrack of the year) and seemingly instinctual mastery of blending visuals with music and you end up with a fascinating gem of a feature debut.

9. The Tree of Life (written & directed by Terrence Malick). I would just as quickly warn people to never watch this film almost as much as I would plead others to do so. Its glacial pacing, stream-of-consciousness structure, over two-hour runtime, and minimalistic story will probably have unsuspecting filmgoers instinctually reaching into their pockets for a quick few rounds of Angry Birds as they pan it for being too artsy. I often wonder if films of this nature will slowly become extinct as our collective attention spans dwindle into the length of adorable-kitten videos on YouTube.

At any rate, this film propelled me into a rather pensive funk for the proceeding few days after seeing it. What ended up being so note-worthy was its unbelievably accurate depiction of how we remember our lives, and more specifically our childhood. Textures, smells, inconsequential moments, or snapshots of seeing the world when you were two feet tall. These moments bubble to the surface, often without too much context of what came before or after it, or even what age you were. The Tree of Life plays out much in the same way. After the introduction of a 1950's family grieving a loss, we are transported back in time ... you know, to the Big Bang. Upon witnessing the very formation of life itself, we eventually catch back up to what most would consider the main "plot line" of this freeform existential journey. The film is visually astounding. I mean serious eye candy. Captured images of profound greatness. Do you get what I'm saying? Pop this one in after a nice bubble bath, or perhaps a few hours of meditation because this isn't a film that's gonna quiet a restless mind.

8. The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (directed by David Fincher). It's not often phenomenal filmmakers have turn around time between films as quickly as Fincher. After releasing The Social Network in October 2010, he's already back with his next project which slides snuggly in next to other Fincher classics like Se7en, Fight Club, Zodiac, and Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Yeah, this guy has certainly been busy making some of the greatest films of the last 10 years. It's well known that Dragon Tattoo is a remake of a 2009 Swedish film [Män som hatar kvinnor], leaving many to wonder just why the film is so necessary. While I more often than not join the rally of "leave great foreign films alone!" (as I did when they remade the brilliant Swedish film Let The Right One In), I can't help but make an exception if the film is helmed by a visionary director such as Fincher.

But enough about all that, this movie is badass. Rooney Mara as Lisbeth, the damaged and strong anti-heroine, glues your eyes to the screen and demands your attention in one of the year's best performances. As far as tone goes, this mystery thriller focuses much of its drama on the slow unraveling of the murder mystery at its core and refrains from loud set-piece-destroying action sequences. It's very much akin to Fincher's more recent work in Zodiac and The Social Network where he's been seriously flexing his "make long dialogue scenes way more gripping then any standard action scene would be." To top it off, his frequent cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth paints stunning visuals into each frame with his uncanny eye for visual perfection. Trent Reznor's score is yet again a perfect pairing to the visuals, and keeps the sense of menace and dread up even when really all we're watching is our main characters flipping through old news articles and investigating every corner of a photograph. That is what filmmaking is all about.

7. Submarine (written & directed by Richard Ayoade). OK, I can't argue it. We've all seen a quirky coming-of-age love story before, however Submarine manages to rise above its own framework to offer a comedy with outstanding characters, emotional depth, and a so-British-it-hurts style humor for the 2011 generation. The film sinks its teeth deep into the visual medium it's presented in with a fresh and lively style. Consistent across the writing, cinematography, directing, and editing the film hits its tone so perfectly on all ends it becomes hard not to be swept away by its heightened reality. Fifteen-year-old Oliver Tate is wise beyond his years, and his hilarious introspective internal rants give us a great sense of the depth of his character. Character is something this film packs in by the tons. Each player in this tale has a perfect array of flaws, quirks, and oddities that make each scene a joy to watch as more layers are peeled back. A classic love story told in an unconventional way. Its odds and ends make this an addictive watch.

6. Hesher (directed by Spencer Susser). It's hard to pinpoint exactly what about this depraved dark comedy I found so outrageously hilarious. In many ways, it's the sum of its parts, but truly the comedy orbits the hysterically straight-faced performance of Joseph Gordon-Levitt as the aimless stoner metal-head deadbeat Hesher. His unapologetically don't-give-a-flying-fuck attitude accidentally finds its way into a grieving family of three mourning the loss of mama-bear. Its dark tone is played for laughs on just about every turn of the story, and does so without shame. Despite its mostly bleak tone, Hesher keeps things energetic and entertaining with seriously fantastic performances, killer writing, and well-rounded characters. Hesher is filmmaking turned up to 11. In fear of over-complicating things, it's easiest to say: this film fucking rocks.

5. Martha Marcy May Marlene (written & directed by Sean Durkin). Don't call it a cult film. OK, you can if you want, but—interestingly— director Sean Durkin prefers that the misguided and reclusive group that begins molding Martha's mind to do the "right" thing unconditionally not be so attached to the classical definition of a "cult." I think what he's really getting at is that Martha Marcy May Marlene is a "cult" film without the over-the-top cheesy elements involved. Don't expect any sacrificial lambs, speaking in tongues, and velvet robes in this one. This is a group that could very well exist in our modern world, and it's unnervingly easy to see how someone in a vulnerable state of mind (i.e., Martha) could find solace and a sense of community among her new-found brothers and sisters. This is crucial in understanding just what makes MMMM so powerful and truly chilling. Powerhouse performances from Elizabeth Olsen as Martha as well as John Hawkes as Patrick, the "cult" leader, make this a serious knockout of a feature-length directorial debut. The film is firmly grounded in reality, while Martha struggles to understand her own. Smoothly transitioning between her life since escaping the cult and the deep-rooted memories from when she was still a part of it makes you as the audience sometimes question what is a dream, a memory, or current reality. The audience is constantly trying to make sense of the events and what it will mean for Martha's transition to life in our normal society. You never really know more than Martha, down to this brilliant film's final frame.

4. The Future (written & directed by Miranda July). Miranda July is odd. If you haven't seen her video blog, watched her interviews, listened to her audio-stories/spoken word albums, or seen her debut feature Me and You and Everyone We Know (in which, as with The Future, she wrote, directed, and starred) then it may be a bit hard to judge whether The Future is going to be your thing or not, but suffice it to say that it's another addition perfectly in line with her off-kilter humor mixed with child-like wonder. In other words it's brilliant. Describing the plot of the film actually doesn't do much good in enhancing your understanding of what this film is truly about. Sure, it involves love, modern-day dilemmas of technology, existential mid-life thoughts, and a talking cat—but really this film is more than about that. Absorbing the film into your mind offers you a rather insightful tale of ... well ... life. Despite its abstracted fun-house mirror presentation, this film at core is a grounded and relatable human story. Miranda July has often been discredited as being "weird for weird's sake" but what makes The Future so inciting is wondering how Miranda July is going to present the next scene. Her unique penchant for storytelling makes her work less about trying to figure out WHAT will happen next, but more so HOW it will happen. Call it weird, but I call it transcendent.

3. Melancholia (written & directed by Lars Von Trier). "A beautiful film about the end of the world" is this film's tagline, and there truly isn't a better way to sum it up. When was the last time you saw a film about the end of the world that doesn't show people rushing into stores to stock up on supplies, frantic newscasters warning people to stay inside, the Golden Gate Bridge being destroyed, impossible scientific experiments like lasers that can destroy asteroids without any debris entering Earth's atmosphere, or Bruce Willis? In Lars Von Trier's (Antichrist, Dogville) latest film, he explores the real emotions of a handful of characters as they begin to come to terms with the fact that their lives, and the lives of all human beings on Earth might soon be coming to an end. The uncertainty of the situation and the wide personalities of the four main characters cast a relatable shadow in the audience's direction. Would you be the one to doubt it until the last minute? Accept it and enjoy your final moments? Panic and convince yourself there must be a way to stop it? Fantastic performances from Kirsten Dunst and Charlotte Gainsbourg blended with the unmistakable cinema-verite style of Lars Von Trier's eye as well as his latest obsession with super-slo-mo imagery make this film remarkably powerful and existential.

2. Life in a Day (directed by Kevin MacDonald). It's always refreshing when films are able to take you beyond the simple presentation of a story, and Life in a Day does just that while still remaining captivating and interesting. Life in a Day essentially boils down to being a 95-minute video time capsule of what life was like for humans around the world on June 24, 2010. The result is both fascinating and deeply thought-provoking. Pieced together from thousands of clips that were submitted by people from around the world filming their day, this is a project unlike any other before it. By eliminating the arguably invasive film crew from this documentary, and handing the camera over to the subjects themselves (i.e., everyone on Earth) we get undeniably candid and personal moments that would otherwise be stifled by a bunch of film dudes making sure the shot looks good on the other side of the room. When I say this film is beautiful, I'm not talking about the camerawork, lighting, or visual effects—I'm talking about the deep undercurrent of human feeling sewn throughout the film's running time. In watching this film, you're sure to find connections to your own life and raise some questions about how you're living it. It's an experience that will happen for those willing to open themselves up to it. This film rewards audience members who allow this film to absorb into their minds. It turns out it's one of the most rewarding experiences that film has provided this year.

1. We Need to Talk About Kevin (directed by Lynne Ramsay). This film is impossibly twisted, unmistakably unsettling, and far beyond just "dark." Often picking my "favorite" films just comes down to the visceral feeling a film gives me. After all, a truly effective film is the kind of film that literally gives you chills, or overwhelming emotion that lingers hours, days, sometimes weeks upon seeing it. So it was a no-brainer for me to place We Need to Talk About Kevin firmly at the top after experiencing what can only be described as a "my skin is crawling" moment during the closing credits. This film is NOT for everyone. For example: children, people interested in seeing movies to escape / feel good, or people who would not like to be aware of the irreversibly fucked-up scenario of raising a child with serious psychological problems. So its audience is a little limited.

The deranged insanity of the demon-child in question "Kevin" is actually played by three actors at different stages of his life: toddler, adolescent, and teen. While the adolescent Kevin has the most screen time, it will undoubtedly be the teen Kevin (played by Ezra Miller) who will give you death-stares in your nightmares. In fact, it's not just his performance that stands out as exceptional, but Tilda Swinton's performance as his mother Eva. The complex emotions of Eva that drive the fractured narrative through its depraved story of the constant search for a normal life catapult this film into a territory of universal fear and the doubt of one's abilities as a human. It's a rough ride psychologically, but this film is dementedly visceral and not to be missed by anyone willing to stomach it.

Cross-published on Dominic Mercurio's personal blog.

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Alexandra McGuinness, David Fincher, Dominic Mercurio, Kevin Macdonald, Lars von Trier, Lists, Lynne Ramsay, Miranda July, Richard Ayoade, Sean Durkin, Spencer Susser, Terrence Malick,

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LISTS: My 10 Favorite Interviews In 2011

My world is shaped by conversations. The process of becoming myself has long been influenced by my understanding of others and—of more recent relevance—my understanding of film has been influenced by the personalities that create the social weave of film culture. Actors are, admittedly, my least favorite group of people to interview and I'm grateful that I don't have to rely upon celebrity journalism to put meat and potatoes on my table. If ever a Faustian bargain has been struck in the world of the moving image, it is the proverbial press junket where profit-minded studio publicists prod journalists into burning cauldrons of promotional conformity. Writing remains a purgatorial activity, but—eschewing the press junket—it's now no longer sheer hell.

Without question, a focus on the auteurial has determined my choices of who to talk to and, thus, directors have been my strongest suit in recent years, partly because I often find the creative process behind a film to be as interesting as the film itself. In a recent interview regarding his quarter of a century fascination with choreographer Pina Bausch, Wim Wenders stated: "One of the few fields of adventure left on this planet is the creative process." I like that statement very much because it comports with my pleasure: conversation as adventure. If my world is indeed shaped by conversations, lately I have come to feel mine is an adventurous existence because it is so intimately linked to the creative processes of others. Nothing is more satisfying.

2011 marked a pronounced shift in my film coverage in that I decided to stop relying exclusively on publicists to secure access to talent. I feel blessed that—at this stage in the game—I'm often able to contact talent directly and, thereby, time my work to immediate interests rather than the tethered dates of theatrical rollout. Based upon my working record, it's become easier to solicit conversations with individuals who interest me. But before I start sounding too much like I'm biting the hand that feeds me, there are specific publicists I very much enjoy working with. Karen Larsen and her staff at San Francisco's Larsen Associates spring immediately to mind as exemplar publicists who not only do their work but allow me to do mine. Christine Slaton at Terry Hines & Associates / Allied Advertising is always a complete pleasure to work with and was the first publicist to invite me to interview a director in front of an audience, for which I remain sincerely grateful. Festival publicist Lina Rodriguez has helped me mine the somewhat unwieldy Toronto International Film Festival for its Latin American treasures and underscored the art of collaboration possible between publicist and journalist.

Another notable shift in this year's coverage is a growing interest in the craft of critical writing itself. I'll always be interested in directors, but lately I'm more interested in film writers and academic authors. I'm learning so much from comparing notes with colleagues and pursuing academic themes that arch over the filmmaking process. I'm looking forward to what 2012 will offer in that regard.

All that being said, here are my 10 favorite conversations of the year, arranged alphabetically.

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Mario DeGiglio-Bellemare. While doing research on Tod Browning's The Unknown (1927), I chanced upon the work of Montreal-based writer Mario DeGiglio-Bellemare and we danced around each other on Facebook for a couple of years before finding the opportunity to finally sit down to talk. That opportunity arose when I was invited to attend Montreal's Fantasia Film Festival and I'm grateful to Mario for suggesting we seize that chance. Mario's theological and political interests have enrichened my understanding of genre in general and the horror genre specifically.

Thomas Elsaesser. Perhaps the most influential conversation I've had this year, Elsaesser snapped me out of my obsession with all things upcoming and new to consider the value of historical context and the film canon. Brilliant to the marrow, I listened raptly to Elsaesser's thoughts on film festival studies and national cinemas. My thanks to Danny Kasman at MUBI for publishing the bulk of our brunch conversation, supplemented by a spillover piece on The Evening Class.

Diamanda Galás. One of the most compelling artists I've ever met has been Philip-Dimitri Galás and having the opportunity to remember him with his sister Diamanda was a sheer joy. Diamanda ain't no slouch either, evidenced by the rather electrifying Schrei 27.

Todd Haynes. As celluloid capsizes into digital and the in-cinema experience capsizes into home viewing, observing master filmmaker Todd Haynes shift into a new phase of the moving image was thoroughly intriguing. His exploration of long form work in the HBO miniseries Mildred Pierce was revelatory of the directorial opportunities and spectatorial pleasures that await us in future years. Here I must shout out to HBO publicist Ashley Mariner for her expert facilitations.

Michel Hazavanicius. Some consider The Artist a confectionary pastiche. I consider it a perfect work of artistic entertainment and a sly reconfiguration of the silent film. I couldn't convince my colleagues at the San Francisco Film Critics Circle to pay the film any honor; but, I've got my fingers crossed for the Academy Awards®. This was my second conversation with Michel, who remains charming, handsome, funny and intelligent.

Dee James. My mamacita proved as fascinating as any film director or film scholar on the subject of how movies influence and shape our lives. I learned more about her and our family through her recollections on movies from her childhood into the '70s. Our conversation was the crowning touch to a year-long project on "Mothers & Movies", which joined a portfolio of entries published at MUBI, SF360, and The Evening Class.

Dave Kehr. Unfortunately, my conversation with seasoned film critic Dave Kehr is not available on-line and—by that very fact—signifies a further shift in my film writing. As one of the first accredited online journalists in the Bay Area, it didn't take very long to become obsolete. Within a mere seven years, thousands of online journalists now compete to say the very same thing at the same time. No doubt this partially motivated my strategy to seek out conversations that might differ and veer away from the din and clamour of online film coverage (and suddenly publishing in print took on a challenging novelty). On the occasion of the University of Chicago Press publication of When Movies Mattered: Reviews From a Transformative Decade, I sought out a conversation with Dave, motivated by his comment: "At the moment, American film criticism seems divided (with some exceptions) between two poles: quick-hit, consumerist sloganeering on Internet review sites and television shows, and full-bore academia, with its dense, uninviting thickets of theoretical jargon." (2011: 2) Chris Fujiwara and I had already discussed the need for film criticism that addresses a region somewhere midway between these two poles and so I appreciated the chance to explore the theme with Dave. Our conversation hits the newsstands in Issue 53 of Film International (Vol. 9, No. 5). A shoutout to Liza Palmer, my editor at Film International, for taking a recent interest in my work, particularly my conversations with film critics.

Jonathan Marlow. Yet another shift in my 2011 film writing is from theatrical to streaming. This has been partly predicated not only by the advance of current to future trends, but my geographic move away from the San Francisco Bay Area to a new "retirement" home in Boise, Idaho where—believe it or not—there are no press screenings. This is, of course, a curse and a blessing at the same time. Though I am predominantly a film festival enthusiast, and continue to experience film festival fare here and there, I've had to find new ways of watching the moving image and so—with the acquisition of a kick-ass 55" SmartTV—I've signed up to Netflix Instant Watch, VUDU, and Hulu Plus. This has actually been a rather satisfying development. Not only does this free me from the pressures of theatrical rollout (and publicists with their pitchforks) but entices me to watch, let's say, the Criterion library on Hulu Plus (many entries in high definition). This viewing experience is better than screeners or DVDs and, often, better than digital projections in movie houses. The future has arrived. And no one has had more influence on that arrival than Jonathan Marlow, who started out at VUDU (he's responsible for their daily dollar special), developed Greencine, and is currently turning Fandor into a must-stop for the discerning cinephile. Not only is Jonathan informed on these trends, but he's genuinely funny and always a pleasure to lunch with each time I'm back in San Francisco. It should be acknowledged here that it was also Jonathan's interview with Apichatpong Weerasethakul that motivated me to begin interviewing directors oh so many moons ago and I look forward to working with him in future years by contributing entries to Keyframe: Fandor's repository of critical essays.

Jonathan Rosenbaum. What a complete pleasure it was to speak with Jonathan Rosenbaum, who Girish Shambu has aptly characterized as "arguably the most highly respected English-language film critic in global film culture." My conversation with Jonathan was published in Issue 51 of Film International (Vol. 9, No. 3, pp. 84-93). Again, that is not available online, but I posted an excerpt of that transcript on The Evening Class, while exploring all that was disposable and discontinuous.

Patrick Wang. Last, but certainly not least, is my conversation with actor-writer-director Patrick Wang whose remarkable directorial debut In the Family toggled that switch inside of me that says one of the key responsibilities of a film journalist is to champion the small film he believes in. And I believe in In the Family, which remains one of the most mature and nuanced narratives I've seen in some time. After having had his film rejected by over 30 film festivals, Wang strategically self-distributed In the Family with a run at New York's Quad Cinema, which resulted in an extended run, an Independent Spirit nomination, and film festival programmers now stumbling over their feet to slot the film in upcoming editions. I won't say which Bay Area film festival has tagged the film until they've officially announced it; but, will say it was pleasurable to watch a few festivals wrestle for the privilege. Ultimately, I guess that's what co-presentations are all about.

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Lists,

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LISTS: TEN 2010 FAVE RAVES

Now that my commitment to stating the obvious has wrapped up for the San Francisco Film Critics Circle (SFFCC), I'm left free to remind myself—"But, oh yeah, these are the movies I really watch in any given year!" Naturally, as a film festival junkie, I'm referring to those films which did not achieve theatrical distribution in 2010. Perhaps they will soon winnow their way into a theater near you? Or achieve critical consensus by December 2011? Or perhaps they will evanesce the way of all things beautiful, significant and true? Some festival darlings remain committed coquettes, after all. Still, I pin them to this year-end list before they flirt or fade away.

I've likewise ranked them from my rave fave rave, which is just a shout or two away from my least fave rave: clearly, the arbitrary result of this morning's strong coffee sipped beneath the malleability of San Franciscan skies. Further, as a gesture of economy—and because raves owe no genre abiding loyalty—I've combined narrative features with documentaries. It's been a great year for documentaries and they rightfully warrant their own top ten but I'm going to respect them in my own way and put them on an equal playing field with narrative features.

Mysteries of Lisbon / Mistérios de Lisboa (Raúl Ruiz, Portugal)—My first Ruiz film arrived as a guest and took a cinephilic slave. A sensual conquest has never been more swift and predetermined. I'm afraid I had little choice but to be overtaken by Ruiz's masterful amusement on the ambitious follies of youth and the nostalgic recapitulations of the elderly. If I've resisted writing about the film since its world premiere at the Toronto International, it's only because I feel it warrants at least one more screening before committing myself to such a pleasurable—if challenging—task. (I'm waiting with baited breath and crossed fingers to see if it will be included in the 2011 edition of the Palm Springs International Film Festival (PSIFF), upcoming in early January.) Mysteries of Lisbon might even require multiple viewings; it's that rich and multilayered.

Souls more informed—and infinitely more prepared than I am—have already weighed in, however. Not only has Rouge provided the definitive online primer for Ruiz, but at MUBI David Hudson has rounded up the first reviews from the TIFF world premiere, the New York Film Festival, plus a few recent end-of-the-year notations. Eventually, I'll get around to drafting a critical overview of those entries; but, for now, am impressed with how Ruiz has crafted a film with a running time of four hours plus that feels breathtakingly only a little over two. Secondly, his ingenious usage of toy theaters to frame his evolving narrative compelled me to attend an exhibition "Toy Theatres: Worlds In Miniature" at San Francisco's Museum of Performance and Design upon my return home from TIFF, which greatly enhanced my experience and appreciation of the film. Finally, in recent weeks I've been reading Reginald Gibbons' William Goyen: A Study of the Short Fiction, which has provided a handy literary precedent by way of Goyen's stylistic usage of "teller-listener" situational narratives. But more of all that later when I have decent time to indulge these insights.

Nostalgia For the Light / Nostalgia de la luz (Patricio Guzmán, France / Chile)—Mark my words, Nostalgia For the Light will be the leading Oscar®-contender for 2012. And if it doesn't win, then it means that Americans have not only forgotten their own recent history, but how to judge a work of documentary art that—not only speaks to the ages—but will remain relevant throughout the ages.

Here's another film I hope screens at PSIFF so I can have another look at it and hopefully—if Patricio Guzmán attends the festival—I can give him one of the meteorites from my collection. Our mutual admiration for meteorites was only one thing Guzmán and I discussed during our conversation at Nostalgia For the Light's TIFF screening, and I remain grateful to MUBI for publishing the transcript of that conversation.

The Milk of Sorrow / La Teta Asustada (Claudia Llosa, Peru)—Despite being nominated for an Oscar® in the Foreign Language category, Claudia Llosa's elegant The Milk of Sorrow had—to the best of my knowledge—a sole one-off screening in the Bay Area. Commendably, Olive Films is distributing The Milk of Sorrow on DVD, and Netflix has it currently available for rental. I spoke with Claudia Llosa at last year's edition of the PSIFF, where I transcribed her Q&A, and later followed up by speaking with Dr. Kimberly Theidon, on whose shoulders the film stands.

Altiplano (Peter Brosens & Jessica Hope Woodworth, Belgium)—Yet another gem that gleamed for me at last year's edition of the PSIFF and which never arrived theatrically in the Bay Area. Such a shame since its fabulist aesthetics work well on the big screen. Fortunately, it is currently available for DVD rental at Netflix.

A Useful Life / La vida útil (Federico Veiroj, Uruguay)—A Useful Life grants charm and dignity to being a cinephile. It's leapt over all the naysayers who said its 66-minute brevity would ruin any chances for distribution. The ever-prescient Global Film Initiative has picked up A Useful Life for their 2011 Global Lens Film Series. Honor that series and you'll get to see Federico Veiroj's valentine to cinematheques where aspect ratio becomes loving homage. Until then, check out my conversation with Veiroj at MUBI.

Animal Kingdom (David Michôd, Australia)—I could almost consider Animal Kingdom one of a pair, being preceded just a month or so earlier by its Aussie compatriot The Square. Both spring from the ensemble talent of Blue Tongue Films, named after not only an indigenous lizard but the team's penchant for cussing. You might say this choice is actually a vote for both films. To this day I regret that—when my computer's hard drive crashed this summer—I lost the recording of my conversation with Joel Edgerton when he was in San Francisco promoting The Square; but, fortunately, I didn't lose my conversation with David Michôd for Animal Kingdom.

Black Swan (Darren Aronofsky, USA)—How divisive this film must be if even the SFFCC couldn't reach consensus over our Best Director Award and had to call it a tie between Aronofsky and David Fincher for The Social Network? One of my colleagues on the Circle protested that you could be sure New York's Film Circle wouldn't put up with such a thing: they'd thrash it out to the end. Myself, distrustful of consensus in general and with one vigilant eye on how quickly seconds become minutes and moments become eternities, I rationalized the tie as "kind of cool", precisely as a sterling reminder to all parties concerned that consensus is some parts agreement but most parts stubborn (i.e., informed) argument. I've not much more to say about this film that I haven't already effused, though lately I've been amused by some online "discussions" where the film's detractors keep criticizing Black Swan for not being "realistic." (God forbid what they're going to think about The Mysteries of Lisbon or Altiplano!) In this instance, it's not so much about whether or not any self-respecting ballet company would hire a ballerina with a huge tattoo on her back as it is the moral imperative that deep and darkly troubled psyches often require an interspecies transformation to achieve catharsis. Ask any good Japanese storyteller and they'll tell you the lesson is in the change, especially in any story more beautiful than true or—appropriate to this context—one more beautiful than real.

The Silence / Das letzte Schweigen (Baran bo Odar, Germany)—This movie is both brutal and beautiful with one of the most arresting ensemble performances in recent memory. My conversation with director Odar is shortly forthcoming. With its festival trajectory kicking off in North America here in the Bay Area, I'll be intrigued to see how the film rolls out over the rest of the country. Its disturbing content might prove too challenging for American tastes. Feeling compassion for the loneliness of a pedophilic murderer might be a tad too much; but, my heart was fully engaged with the film's arching humanity.

Undertow / Contracorriente (Javier Fuentes-León, Peru)—An audience pleaser wherever it goes, I have to count myself among those impressed by Undertow's brave sentiments and the gentle craft employed to make it a romantic film accessible to everyone. Too often what is categorized as "queer" film ghettoizes itself from inception, but Fuentes-León's visionary sweep winningly invites the world. He was a thorough delight to talk to when Undertow screened as part of Frameline's focus on Latin American Queer Cinema and Wolfe Video deserves kudos for championing the film. It's one of the few foreign films (let alone queer films) I know that was repeatedly extended one week after another during its SF run. How will it fare at PSIFF? Should it win audience favorite there, will that increase its chances for an Oscar® run?

Guest (José Luis Guerín, Spain)—Last, but hardly least, is the filmic experiment that some critics have termed "a noble failure." We should all fail so compassionately; humanity might stand a measure of success were that the case. My conversation with José Luis when Guest played at Toronto was one of the most influential of the year for indirectly revealing that the manner by which Guerín created and edited Guest bears a striking resemblance to how I approach individual interviews (and The Evening Class interview project in general). In reconsidering dialogue as a syntactical process to achieve a certain tempo, rhythm or shape, our editorial methodologies are intriguingly similar. Guerín is the kind of filmmaker who inspires me to make a film. His comment—"What I encounter by chance converts or contests my inquiries towards controlling the real"—has become something of a daily affirmation.

Cross-published on Twitch.

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LISTS: MY 2010 FAVORITES

I feel it's important to preface this selection of preliminary nominations to the San Francisco Film Critics Circle (SFFCC) as "favorites" and not "the best" for reasons frequently stated. Yet another blow against the ubiquitous forces of the Evil Lists Empire! In my cinematic universe you can hear explosions in space detonating against the hull of the Death Star (which will stand in metaphorically for everything I oppose).

For those interested in how this process works for SFFCC, this is the first of two online ballots meant to maximize use of discussion and analysis before our official Voting Meeting (come Monday). In this first round of balloting, we have been asked to name our top five films / actors / directors, etc., culled from the 2010 Theatrical Releases List forwarded to us for review. This was uncomfortable and in some ways disappointing for all the reasons previously cited. It was like swinging a cracked bat at an unraveling baseball on an unkempt diamond in an empty stadium. Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack, yeah, right.

We were asked to rank our nominations from one to five with the top entry being number one, etc. This is for purposes of tabulation. The #1 choice earns 5 points, the #2 earns 4 points, and so on. Whoever is held responsible for this number-crunching task should be awarded an annual Count von Count award inscribed with the notable sentiment: "My name is the Count and I love to count." I will propose this (briefly) at the Voting Meeting.

After this tabulation has taken place, a final Master Ballot will be comprised of the five entries receiving the most points from the Preliminary Ballot. I will have to be as silent as the grave at this phase so as not to leak the final SFFCC list, which I promise to publish once it goes public.

So here goes.

PICTURE—There's something quaint about using the term "picture" to qualify "movie"; it harkens back to the onset of this cinemania, both in filmmaking and listmaking. When I think of "picture" in this regard, I think not so much of best picture as big picture: studio product and its evil twin the heavily-financed independent feature. We're talking collaborative production. Not some soul-stirring bit of beauty that might have turned my head around fashioned by a handful of creative upstarts; but, solid consensual aesthetics that demand our straightforward attention as we sit in our orderly rows attentive to what we know we're supposed to want. That being the case, my hat's off to:

Black Swan
Blue Valentine
The King's Speech
The Social Network
Inception

Unfortunately, the only one of these five that I've written about is the low man on the totem pole and I blame that on the time it's taken for me to vex over this list. Black Swan—as divisive a film as any Darren Aronofsky has ever produced—strikes me as thrillingly visceral. Some say it's not a very smart movie. I quote Stephen Sondheim, "Who needs Albert Schweitzer when the lights are low?" What it is, is a smart cinematic experience: smart in looks, smart in tension, with a painfulness that, yes, "smarts" a little. No contemporary filmmaker takes us into the fractured mind to reveal its unraveling suspense as competently as Darren Aronofsky and—if he is less than subtle in how he depicts these shifting states of mind—he approximates their dramatic force with bullying beauty and verve. His exquisite precision is that of a ball-peen hammer striking an extended nerve and its triumphant endurance over pain. Black Swan alarmed me convincingly: I will never pick at a hangnail again, no matter how confused I might be about who or where I am.

Of the five, Derek Cianfrance's Blue Valentine would least fit the description of something audiences know they're supposed to want. In fact, Blue Valentine should come as something of a surprise to them, having been weaned on such romantic fantasies as Leap Year and Dear John where the good luck of good looks reigns supreme or—as M. Black once stated it to me—where men come "wielding their DNA like a billyclub"; a billyclub that these days might resemble a perfumed advertisement in Details, GQ, Esquire or Vanity Fair. Yes, Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams meet cute and all that; but, like Ingmar Bergman's devastating Scenes From A Marriage for a current generation, Blue Valentine reveals the life-numbing poison in Cupid's arrow and its gradual release into the bloodstream. I'm delighted to hear that the MPAA finally pulled their prurient thumbs out of their asses to change their NC-17 rating to R so that mature audiences can recognize themselves in this superbly nuanced narrative of the dissolution of—not only a marriage—but an ideal of love that ultimately serves no one.

Tom Hooper's The King's Speech is elegantly measured, if not preciously, predictably so. It hits all its marks with mannered precision, recalls an important phase of history Americans might all too soon disregard, and provides its top-notch ensemble winning chances to prove their craft. My only complaint with the film might be its obvious tip of the hat to Derek Jacobi, the patron Saint of Stammerers. Seriously, any casting director worth their salt should know to steer clear of casting Jacobi in any film involving the theme of speech impediments as his presence literally impedes the theme through inadvertent irony. I recall this being a pointed liability in Kenneth Branagh's 1991 Dead Again where the plot's denouement was broadcast the moment Jacobi stuttered. Here he has a bitchy confrontation with the speech therapist, but close enough to s-st-stall the s-st-story.

David Fincher's The Social Network, like his previous procedural Zodiac, falls prey to the au courant debates on realism in film. How real should a reel be if a reel could be real? What strikes me as most "real" about The Social Network—a film I can unreservedly describe as "contemporary", which I can rarely do—is its propulsive tempo; its pace; its momentum. If moviegoers go to movies because they are, indeed, moving pictures, then the depiction of movement in a film is that which best identifies its setting, its time of manufacture, and its cultural compulsion. Fledgling filmmaker Dominic Mercurio recently commented to me that he wanted to see films about things that are happening right now, and The Social Network not only frames our so-called "decade of distraction" to perfection, but distracts us enough from its subject distraction to elicit concern over the communities we are building, the communities we are abandoning, and why we feel compelled to make these choices.

ACTOR—This has been a rich year for male performances with recent entries rising to the top of my list. Here are my five:

Ryan Gosling / Blue Valentine
Andrew Scott / Anton Chekhov's The Duel
Colin Firth / The King's Speech
Édgar Ramirez / Carlos
Ciarán Hinds / The Eclipse

Redeeming his wasted intentions in All Good Things, Ryan Gosling shines as a domineering and doomed romantic in Blue Valentine. Shifting between his bracing good looks as a young man wooing his first love to a middle-aged husband complacent with failure, he exhibits such command of his craft and promises rich performances to come. In my mind he is one of the finest actors of his generation. I identify with his foibles so completely that his heart breaking is my own heart breaking. I am ravished by his disillusion and I fail when he fails. There was also something a little eerie about watching him walk away from his capsized marriage while Fourth of July fireworks illuminated the twilight. It reminded me of Heath Ledger's pose in Brokeback Mountain—compromised masculinity framed against fireworks—a film where Michelle Williams likewise portrayed the wife overlooked and unseen under the weight of projected expectations. Nowhere do the masks of persona slip more tellingly than when people fall out of love with each other.

I am completely unfamiliar with the work of Andrew Scott but he's caught my attention with his performance in Anton Chekhov's The Duel as Laevsky—a morally bankrupt ne'er-do-well—whose defiant acceptance in the face of sure death upsets the applecart of masculine valor expected during a duel. He deserves attention for transforming from such an unlikeable cad into a man of responsibility.

I fervently wanted Colin Firth to win the Oscar® last year for his pellucid and powerful performance in A Single Man, and—though his characterization of the stammering King George VI in The King's Speech moved me less—it nonetheless accentuates his consistency and his range and he deserves continued recognition until he receives his long-deserved statuette.

Venezuelan actor Édgar Ramírez as Carlos the Jackal makes being a revolutionary terrorist downright sexy, and scary, and historically sad. His centripetal performance commands an arresting ensemble to whorl around his impassioned profile of terrorism before the New World Order reconfigured the playing field forever, eschewing the noble struggle between dark and light and giving in to shades of grey.

I'm primarily familiar with the work of Ciarán Hinds from his role as the imperious Julius Caesar in the BBC/HBO television series Rome; but, honestly favor this more frightened, quiet performance of a haunted widower chancing new love in the Irish ghost story The Eclipse.

ACTRESS—This has been an equally rich year for female performances and my list kept whirling around day to day. Here are today's five:

Natalie Portman / Black Swan
Magaly Solier / The Milk of Sorrow
Nicole Kidman / Rabbit Hole
Tilda Swinton / I Am Love
Kristin Scott Thomas / Leaving

I was completely blown away by Natalie Portman's perfection-driven ballerina in Black Swan. I remember when—accepting her Indie Spirit® Award for Best Actress—Ellen Burstyn credited Aronofsky with giving her the role of a lifetime in Requiem For A Dream and, no doubt, Portman could easily say the same should she win this coveted award next year at the Indie Spirits® and the Oscars®. Her performance in Black Swan marks a significant evolution in her career. I could feel her skin: its flaws, its tears, its bruises, its sprains. Her scene in the woman's latrine where she phones her mother to tell her she's won the role of the Black Swan must be added to the list of famous telephone scenes: it's heartbreaking, tragic and beautiful.

I'm probably the only one I know who wants Peruvian actress Magaly Solier to receive international recognition for her double-hitter this year as Fausta in Claudia Llosa's The Milk of Sorrow and Saturnina in Peter Brosens and Jessica Hope Woodworth's Altiplano. With these two roles she has earned the honor of becoming the cinematic icon of indigenous resistance; a template of feminine beauty rarely witnessed on the screen: both vulnerable and militant.

Nicole Kidman's chameleonics can frequently get on my nerves; but, she's emotionally convincing in Rabbit Hole as a mother grieving over the death of her son and finding solace—not in the ready arms of religion—but in the soothing wormholes of quantum physics. Kidman has a unique way of being pinched by deep feelings, as if her consciousness has been jolted awake from torpor.

I love Tilda Swinton, as a personality and as an actress, but I swear that if she wipes her armpit one more time I will lose respect for her ability to differentiate characters and their scriptural stresses. Notwithstanding, she is sublime as the trophy wife finding love among the lower classes in the operatic I Am Love. Similarly, Kristin Scott Thomas finds herself in a comparable conflict in Leaving, though she resolves her conflict quite differently. Both scripts speak to women escaping false marriages and both films honor the smoldering luminosity of middle-aged actresses.

SUPPORTING ACTOR—I frequently find some of the best performances in this category, rendered perfect for less screen time and not having to bear the full weight of a script. Ranking performances, however, was especially difficult and misleading in this category. My nominations:

John Hawkes / Winter's Bone
Ben Mendelsohn / Animal Kingdom
Jon Lovitz / Casino Jack
Geoffrey Rush / The King's Speech
Tobias Menzies / Anton Chekhov's The Duel

John Hawkes' performance in Winter's Bone is what elevates this Sundance darling above its miserabilist underpinnings. I've seen Hawkes in a few other films and he often seems to play uneducated Southerners or Midwesterners—salt of the earth—but, as Teardrop Dolly in Winter's Bone he amalgamates the best of his previous work to create not only a convincingly regional character but a universally complex one, resonant with emotion.

Australian actor Ben Mendelsohn was first on my list for weeks. His performance in David Michôd's Animal Kingdom is resplendently evil, gleaming with malice and cunning, and now is the perfect time for villainry to be applauded rather than hissed.

Comic Jon Lovitz completely surprised me with his serious supporting turn as Adam Kidan in recently-deceased George Hickenlooper's Casino Jack. The film as a whole is appropriately overripe and smarmy, but Lovitz infuses his natural talent for humor with a perverse, obsequious undercurrent. I would love to see him tackle more roles of this stripe.

Geoffrey Rush's patient reserve as speech therapist Lionel Logue is textbook Ivory Coast, though perhaps more aptly Aussie Coast in this instance. One could almost argue he could be nominated for Best Actor for this amusing and compassionate turn in The King's Speech, although his chances for this performance gain credence in the Supporting race. Should Firth and he go up against each other for Best Actor, they will most likely cancel each other out.

Along with Ciarán Hinds, I am familiar with the work of Tobias Menzies through the BBC/HBO television series Rome where he played a manipulated and anguished Brutus. With his performance as Von Koren in Anton Chekhov's The Duel, he has earned my full attention. Mastering the inverse of Andrew Scott's transformation, Menzies plays an honorable man humbled by a momentary lapse of nerve. I'm anxious to see what he does next.

SUPPORTING ACTRESS—Again, this category has been like watching a thoroughbred horse race where the contestants vie neck to neck. If nominations really are one of the sports of civilization, I almost need a close capture camera to call this one. Yet with meager eyesight:

Jacki Weaver / Animal Kingdom
Lesley Manville / Another Year
Barbara Hershey / Black Swan
Kristin Scott Thomas / Nowhere Boy
Allison Janey / Life During Wartime

Australian veteran Jacki Weaver's mothering in Animal Kingdom is lapidary, as in brilliant but stony. She has reigned supreme at the top of this list for months and I'm convinced of her victory. Nonetheless, Lesley Manville's sodden slattern in Mike Leigh's Another Year awakens the heart to spent possibility and limited time. Barbara Hershey has been one of my favorite actresses since 1969 when she insinuated herself onto the scene with her cruel turn as Sandy in Last Summer, became sainted in my private pantheon for her tattooed Magdalen in Scorsese's The Last Temptation of Christ, and now compels me with her domineering and nearly perverse stage mother in Aronofsky's Black Swan. As far as I'm concerned, Kristin Scott Thomas is showing all the signs of becoming a first-rate international actress like Isabelle Huppert and, here in English, movingly seeks to assist the young John Lennon in Nowhere Boy. Allison Janney's liquid eyes tear up to perfection in Todd Solondz's Life During Wartime.

From hereon in, let me just list the categories and my nominations or we will never make headway. If you want to know my rationalizations about choice or ranking, shoot me a comment and I'll respond.

DIRECTOR

Darren Aronofsky / Black Swan
David Michôd / Animal Kingdom
David Fincher / The Social Network
Christopher Nolan / Inception
Olivier Assayas / Carlos

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY

Joel Edgerton & Matthew Dabner / The Square
Claudia Llosa / The Milk of Sorrow
David Seidler / The King's Speech
Olivier Assayas & Dan Franck / Carlos
Christopher Nolan / Inception

ADAPTED SCREENPLAY

Mary Bing / Anton Chekhov's The Duel
Tony Grisoni / Red Riding Trilogy
Debra Granik & Anne Rosellini / Winter's Bone
Aaron Sorkin / The Social Network
Juan Jose Campanella & Eduardo Sacheri / The Secret In Their Eyes

CINEMATOGRAPHY

Matthew Libatique / Black Swan
Wally Pfister / Inception
Christopher Doyle / Ondine
Francisco Gózon / Altiplano
Pedro González-Rubio / Alamar

FOREIGN LANGUAGE—Oh man, did I feel shortchanged in this category. I felt like I was tasked to pick lentils from an ashen fireplace. It's a shame that most foreign films fail to find distribution in the U.S. This is where I can wholeheartedly lobby for the film festival experience where the cinephile achieves an opportunity to experience the breadth of global output before it's deminimized by American wallets. I'm so grateful to our Bay Area national retrospectives, and to the Toronto International and the Palm Springs International for keeping me in touch with world cinema.

The Milk of Sorrow (La Teta Asustada)
A Prophet (Un prophète)
Undertow (Contracorriente)
Altiplano
Mother (Madeo)

DOCUMENTARY—I'll be upfront and say that I'm not a great fan of documentaries and let me tell you why. I have seen one too many shocking exposes of white collar and corporate crime that offer no remedy and leave me feeling informed but helpless and I resent filmmakers who do that, just like I resent what's reported as news in the major media. That's probably why I chose a feel-good, sentimental nature doc to head my list, because as good as outrage might make others feel, it only wearies me. I'm for subjects that inspire, not tire, and thus I moreorless stay away from overtly political documentaries, though—if it had been eligible—9500 Liberty would have been the victorious exception at the top of my list. I will say, however, that once I committed myself to the task of catching up, I discovered several great documentaries to choose from this year and feel bad about those I had to bump off my list.

The Legend of Pale Male
The Art of the Steal
Henri-Georges Clouzot's Inferno
Double Take
Inside Job

ANIMATED—Slim pickings this year. I couldn't come up with a fifth. What would you have chosen?

Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole
The Secret of Kells
Toy Story 3
My Dog Tulip

MARLON RIGGS AWARD—The Marlon Riggs Award is given to a Bay Area filmmaker or individual who represents courage and innovation in the world of cinema. I'm going to keep mum here because I don't want any advance notice to leak out; but, I've got my fingers crossed that the Circle will go with my nomination. Looks possible.

SPECIAL CITATION—In years past the SFFCC has given special acknowledgment to deserving little gems or underrated indies. This, as you might imagine, is possibly the most contentious category of all. Perhaps because it reflects what we really care about and want others to experience? Again, I'm going to keep mum because I don't want to ruin my chances to win support for my nomination, which I'm less convinced will go through; but, hey, you never ever know, do ya?

Cross-published on Twitch.

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