Matt's Favorite Films, #11 to #25
25. Away From Her (2007)
The highest-ranking movie of the decade that I actually first saw on an airplane (yes, it's an odd choice for an in-flight movie to begin with -- what, Requiem For a Dream was unavailable?).
Alice Munro + Alzheimer's Disease = one of the saddest films of the 2000s. The irresistible Julie Christie got all sorts of awards for her performance here, but it's Gordon Pinsent's heart-broken, guilt-racked husband that carries the film. More than just a fable of loss, it's a delicate commentary on the joys, sorrows, and cruel regrets of even the most well-lived life.
Alice Munro + Alzheimer's Disease = one of the saddest films of the 2000s. The irresistible Julie Christie got all sorts of awards for her performance here, but it's Gordon Pinsent's heart-broken, guilt-racked husband that carries the film. More than just a fable of loss, it's a delicate commentary on the joys, sorrows, and cruel regrets of even the most well-lived life.
24. No Country For Old Men (2007)
This is a great movie. With the exception of about 90 seconds' worth of Tommy Lee Jones monologues, there isn't a wasted moment in the entire picture: the tension, and the horror, build relentlessly and unbearably. The Coens' technical skills as cinematic craftsmen have never been put to better use. With apologies to Sauron, Mugatu and Heath Ledger's Joker, Javier Bardem's Chigurh is without a doubt the Villain of the Decade.
And yet for me, it's a grudging #24. I have enormous respect for this movie but very little affection. Both Cormac McCarthy and the Coens, I think, are overly impressed with their own uncompromising vision of humanity. I don't think it's fair to say that I don't appreciate dark works of art: in its own way, is there a more bleakly devastating book than Tess of the d'Urbervilles? But No Country for Old Men never rises to that level. In shaving its plot and its characters and its ideas down to the sharpest, cruelest cutting edge, the film loses much of the human weight that defines great art. It is a nightmare but you could hardly call it a tragedy.
And yet for me, it's a grudging #24. I have enormous respect for this movie but very little affection. Both Cormac McCarthy and the Coens, I think, are overly impressed with their own uncompromising vision of humanity. I don't think it's fair to say that I don't appreciate dark works of art: in its own way, is there a more bleakly devastating book than Tess of the d'Urbervilles? But No Country for Old Men never rises to that level. In shaving its plot and its characters and its ideas down to the sharpest, cruelest cutting edge, the film loses much of the human weight that defines great art. It is a nightmare but you could hardly call it a tragedy.
23. 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days (2007)
...or, if you type it into Google, 144.7474 days. Thanks, guys.
This quintessentially gritty Eastern European film follows two college girls who try to arrange an illegal abortion during the final days of Ceauşescu's Romania. That makes it sound like a deeply political film, and in fact, it is -- class, gender, abortion, and the Iron Curtain are all obviously relevant concepts here. But it's also a model of suspense. The film is shot almost in real time, and all the difficult minutiae required to set up and complete the abortion grow more and more ominous. The pit in your stomach continues to deepen over the course of the film; director Cristian Mungiu never really lets it go away.
Yet in the end the movie is most concerned with both the politics and the suspense of personal relationships. It's the characters, as much as the queasy plot and grim atmosphere, that carry the story to its conclusion.
This quintessentially gritty Eastern European film follows two college girls who try to arrange an illegal abortion during the final days of Ceauşescu's Romania. That makes it sound like a deeply political film, and in fact, it is -- class, gender, abortion, and the Iron Curtain are all obviously relevant concepts here. But it's also a model of suspense. The film is shot almost in real time, and all the difficult minutiae required to set up and complete the abortion grow more and more ominous. The pit in your stomach continues to deepen over the course of the film; director Cristian Mungiu never really lets it go away.
Yet in the end the movie is most concerned with both the politics and the suspense of personal relationships. It's the characters, as much as the queasy plot and grim atmosphere, that carry the story to its conclusion.
22. The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)
I saw this movie in England during the very first week of my semester abroad. Since I had no friends and little to do -- and because I was enraptured by Peter Jackson's vision of Tolkein -- I churned my way through the entire Lord of the Rings cycle over the next few weeks.
Unlike the advocates of Return of the King, I have no real argument with people who say that Fellowship is the best of the three movies. The film's leisurely pace is a joy: the characters are introduced with patience and calm; I think I could spend an entire three hours in the green coziness of Jackson's Shire. The Boromir story, too, is brilliantly wrought. Sean Bean makes us feel every ounce of the man's ambition, and also his inner agony. (Bonus footage: click here for a totally awesome Boromir montage, set to the music of Nickelback.)
This is the film that started it all; and it's safe to say that for me, if I were to count all three as a whole, it would be my #1 Film of the Decade. But I don't! So we press on. "Fly you fools, fly!"
Unlike the advocates of Return of the King, I have no real argument with people who say that Fellowship is the best of the three movies. The film's leisurely pace is a joy: the characters are introduced with patience and calm; I think I could spend an entire three hours in the green coziness of Jackson's Shire. The Boromir story, too, is brilliantly wrought. Sean Bean makes us feel every ounce of the man's ambition, and also his inner agony. (Bonus footage: click here for a totally awesome Boromir montage, set to the music of Nickelback.)
This is the film that started it all; and it's safe to say that for me, if I were to count all three as a whole, it would be my #1 Film of the Decade. But I don't! So we press on. "Fly you fools, fly!"
21. The Lives of Others (2006)
Hey, it's William F. Buckley Jr.'s favorite movie of all time! But don't hold that against it.
I remember being surprised when this relatively unknown (at the time) German movie upset Pan's Labyrinth to take the Best Foreign Language Oscar. But yeah, stunningly, the Academy got that one right: this film blows del Toro's woozy fantasy right out of the water.
Like all great works of art that explore the mind of totalitarianism (think Darkness at Noon and Brave New World, not V for Vendetta) The Lives of Others begins by making it approachable, even interesting. I want to take a class on interrogation methods! Ulrich Mühe's sad-faced Stasi agent is oddly sympathetic, almost even before he undergoes his transformation. And screw it, Buckley is right about the final hour: "The tension mounts to heart-stopping pitch and I felt the impulse to rush out into the street and drag passersby in to watch the story unfold."
Chalk up another one for Cold War Eastern Europe.
I remember being surprised when this relatively unknown (at the time) German movie upset Pan's Labyrinth to take the Best Foreign Language Oscar. But yeah, stunningly, the Academy got that one right: this film blows del Toro's woozy fantasy right out of the water.
Like all great works of art that explore the mind of totalitarianism (think Darkness at Noon and Brave New World, not V for Vendetta) The Lives of Others begins by making it approachable, even interesting. I want to take a class on interrogation methods! Ulrich Mühe's sad-faced Stasi agent is oddly sympathetic, almost even before he undergoes his transformation. And screw it, Buckley is right about the final hour: "The tension mounts to heart-stopping pitch and I felt the impulse to rush out into the street and drag passersby in to watch the story unfold."
Chalk up another one for Cold War Eastern Europe.
20. Apocalypto (2006)
Let's see.... we've had Terence Malick on the Powhatans and James Cameron on the Na'avi, but the decade's best possibly-offensive-portrayal-of-indigenous-peoples is Mel Gibson on the Maya? You got it.
Let's get the historical-accuracy bugaboo out of the way immediately. This is no grad school seminar. What it is, though, is a vivid encounter with a carefully-drawn series of exotic peoples, at once affectingly familiar and punishingly strange, and with a maximum of imagination and a minimum of condescension. Some have argued that Gibson's Maya overlords seem to deserve their own destruction with sadistic, insane brutality -- but the movie, remember, is kept rigorously within the perspective of the jungle-dwelling Jaguar Paw, to whom everything about the city is nearly as new and bizarre and abominable as it is to us. As the captured tribe is marched into the megapolis, the film makes a brief, hilarious reference to Midnight Cowboy, and I think it's possible to see the entire urban horror as a kind of 16th century version of Joe Buck's trip to New York. For a country boy, the city has always loomed as a place of both dreams and nightmares.
In any case what makes this movie special is its exhilarating marriage of digital-film exoticism with old-time Hollywood thrills: the final 45 minutes are just one long, awesome chase scene. The cherry on top is the rain-soaked conclusion, which captures something of the wonder, and the absurdity, of first contact between Europeans and Indians, and should provide ample refutation of the idea that bad ol' Mel is trying to justify the slaughter of the indigenous.
Let's get the historical-accuracy bugaboo out of the way immediately. This is no grad school seminar. What it is, though, is a vivid encounter with a carefully-drawn series of exotic peoples, at once affectingly familiar and punishingly strange, and with a maximum of imagination and a minimum of condescension. Some have argued that Gibson's Maya overlords seem to deserve their own destruction with sadistic, insane brutality -- but the movie, remember, is kept rigorously within the perspective of the jungle-dwelling Jaguar Paw, to whom everything about the city is nearly as new and bizarre and abominable as it is to us. As the captured tribe is marched into the megapolis, the film makes a brief, hilarious reference to Midnight Cowboy, and I think it's possible to see the entire urban horror as a kind of 16th century version of Joe Buck's trip to New York. For a country boy, the city has always loomed as a place of both dreams and nightmares.
In any case what makes this movie special is its exhilarating marriage of digital-film exoticism with old-time Hollywood thrills: the final 45 minutes are just one long, awesome chase scene. The cherry on top is the rain-soaked conclusion, which captures something of the wonder, and the absurdity, of first contact between Europeans and Indians, and should provide ample refutation of the idea that bad ol' Mel is trying to justify the slaughter of the indigenous.
19. Mulholland Drive (2001)
For me, this is a movie that inspires more admiration than affection. Unlike David Lynch's Twin Peaks, there's no Dale Cooper to come along and cut through the blackness with a great cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie. I missed that.
But it's hard to deny this movie's greatness. The Hollywood-as-nightmare genre is a rich and time-honored one, from Nathanael West's The Day of the Locust to Ben Affleck in Hollywoodland (Har har). It's never been done with more ferocity, more raw hurt, more gleeful looping madness.
As a whole, the movie is more or less fucked-up and impenetrable, but so many of its set pieces are pure delights. The obnoxious director getting his comeuppance. The steamy lesbian sex. "Sixteen Reasons." And of course the bit right before that. Take it away, Kirk:
"Naomi Watts deserves to be here for what I like to call The Scene. When Watts starts purring at the orangeish actor of a certain age in the audition sequence, it's like someone flipped on the lights in a blacked out motel room. Lynch sets it up perfectly with Watts giving a brutal pre-audition run through, only to blow the doors off later. No matter how many times I see the film, I always have to watch The Scene twice because I just can't believe it."
Yep.
But it's hard to deny this movie's greatness. The Hollywood-as-nightmare genre is a rich and time-honored one, from Nathanael West's The Day of the Locust to Ben Affleck in Hollywoodland (Har har). It's never been done with more ferocity, more raw hurt, more gleeful looping madness.
As a whole, the movie is more or less fucked-up and impenetrable, but so many of its set pieces are pure delights. The obnoxious director getting his comeuppance. The steamy lesbian sex. "Sixteen Reasons." And of course the bit right before that. Take it away, Kirk:
"Naomi Watts deserves to be here for what I like to call The Scene. When Watts starts purring at the orangeish actor of a certain age in the audition sequence, it's like someone flipped on the lights in a blacked out motel room. Lynch sets it up perfectly with Watts giving a brutal pre-audition run through, only to blow the doors off later. No matter how many times I see the film, I always have to watch The Scene twice because I just can't believe it."
Yep.
18. The White Ribbon (2009)
I don't think I've ever hated a movie more than I hated Funny Games, and I missed the meeting where Somebody Smarter Than Me decided that Cache was the best film of our generation. Wild sadism and brittle anti-bourgeois provocation just aren't my thing. Michael Haneke is obviously a major filmmaker, but I thought he was my enemy.
Not so. Without abandoning his basic preoccupations or distinctive style, Haneke made a much firmer, much thicker, much more human movie with The White Ribbon. Set in a small North German village in 1913, it traces a mysterious series of incidents that gradually acquire a sinister significance. Evil children! But what makes it such a great film is how Haneke builds the entire structure of the rural community, from the doctor to the lawyer to the peasant to the baron. It all has the social texture and psychological shrewdness of a great 19th century novel. And despite the darkness, there's real warmth here. Which makes the dark stuff even better, in my book.
Not so. Without abandoning his basic preoccupations or distinctive style, Haneke made a much firmer, much thicker, much more human movie with The White Ribbon. Set in a small North German village in 1913, it traces a mysterious series of incidents that gradually acquire a sinister significance. Evil children! But what makes it such a great film is how Haneke builds the entire structure of the rural community, from the doctor to the lawyer to the peasant to the baron. It all has the social texture and psychological shrewdness of a great 19th century novel. And despite the darkness, there's real warmth here. Which makes the dark stuff even better, in my book.
17. Sideways (2004)
1. This is the only film in the top 25 which provided me with a Halloween costume (see photo, left). Thomas Haden Church just rules. "Tastes pretty good to me." "Don't you just want to feel that cozy little box grip down on your johnson?" "Not now! Not now!" "You understand literature, movies, wine... but you don't understand my plight."
2. The highest ranked pure comedy on my list. I don't normally think of myself as an over-serious person, but I guess it comes out in the movie rankings.
3. Check out the preview for what appears to be an almost identical Japanese remake. Weird.
4 If you love this movie, you absolutely have to watch Haden Church and Paul Giamatti's DVD commentary... it has almost as many extra laughs as the movie itself. Normally I'm not a big DVD extras guy, but the two of them have a hilarious chemistry, apparent in the movie but also in regular conversation. It's worth it for their take on the "Not now! Not now!" sex scene alone.
2. The highest ranked pure comedy on my list. I don't normally think of myself as an over-serious person, but I guess it comes out in the movie rankings.
3. Check out the preview for what appears to be an almost identical Japanese remake. Weird.
4 If you love this movie, you absolutely have to watch Haden Church and Paul Giamatti's DVD commentary... it has almost as many extra laughs as the movie itself. Normally I'm not a big DVD extras guy, but the two of them have a hilarious chemistry, apparent in the movie but also in regular conversation. It's worth it for their take on the "Not now! Not now!" sex scene alone.
16. Once (2007)
It would be pointless to try to gin up a written defense of this magical little movie. You either felt its charm, or, so much the worse for your stunted soul, you didn't.
Let's just revisit some of its best moments, instead: here's "When Your Mind's Made Up."
Let's just revisit some of its best moments, instead: here's "When Your Mind's Made Up."
15. About Schmidt (2002)
Jack Nicholson's utter sublimation of self makes this another performance of the decade. Alexander Payne and Nicholson were so aware of their triumph that they even filmed a Nicholson-vs.-waitress encounter that almost perfectly mirrors Jack's classically indomitable diner scene in Five Easy Pieces: only this time Schmidt crumples under the waitress's pressure. They ended it up cutting it from the final film -- Nicholson's playing against type is already evident enough without clear self-referentiality -- but I'd love to see the bonus footage.
As for the rest of the movie: Dermot Mulroney's mustachioed, mulleted, endearingly pathetic waterbed-salesman-on-the-make is one of the funniest characters I've ever seen in a serious movie: "It's NOT a pyramid scheme!" Kathy Bates is also terrific -- she always seems to get a bit of extra juice out of working with Jack.
But best of all is how Payne's movie gets the little aspects of character exactly right: the final scene, where Schmidt pauses precisely to fetch his letter opener, before carefully using it to open Ndugu's letter, is a quiet masterpiece.
As for the rest of the movie: Dermot Mulroney's mustachioed, mulleted, endearingly pathetic waterbed-salesman-on-the-make is one of the funniest characters I've ever seen in a serious movie: "It's NOT a pyramid scheme!" Kathy Bates is also terrific -- she always seems to get a bit of extra juice out of working with Jack.
But best of all is how Payne's movie gets the little aspects of character exactly right: the final scene, where Schmidt pauses precisely to fetch his letter opener, before carefully using it to open Ndugu's letter, is a quiet masterpiece.
14. Sugar (2009)
The best sports movie of the decade -- professional wrestling is, I believe, legally obligated to classify itself as an entertainment. The best baseball movie I've ever seen -- stunning, given that Kevin Costner is nowhere to be found. And the best immigrant story put to film in a long time -- since, I don't know, The Godfather Part II.
After this movie, as a baseball fan, I don't think I'll ever look at Dominican ballplayers the same way.
Future Oriole .217-hitting outfielders and 5.78-ERA relievers will have a greater portion of my sympathy (if not quite my support) than they've yet been able to claim. Daniel Cabrera, you are forgiven. Did you hear that? Forgiven! That's the power of this film.
But the real beauty of Sugar doesn't have much to do with sports. Miguel Santos's journey from the Caribbean to minor league ball in Iowa and beyond is traced with such subtlety and tenderness that it belongs to a different universe entirely than most sports movies. It's the rare immigrant tale that doesn't succumb to either phony triumphalism or didactic nightmare scenario. Rarely has an outsider's vision of America been more bewildering, or more real.
After this movie, as a baseball fan, I don't think I'll ever look at Dominican ballplayers the same way.
Future Oriole .217-hitting outfielders and 5.78-ERA relievers will have a greater portion of my sympathy (if not quite my support) than they've yet been able to claim. Daniel Cabrera, you are forgiven. Did you hear that? Forgiven! That's the power of this film.
But the real beauty of Sugar doesn't have much to do with sports. Miguel Santos's journey from the Caribbean to minor league ball in Iowa and beyond is traced with such subtlety and tenderness that it belongs to a different universe entirely than most sports movies. It's the rare immigrant tale that doesn't succumb to either phony triumphalism or didactic nightmare scenario. Rarely has an outsider's vision of America been more bewildering, or more real.
13. Le Fils (The Son) (2002)
The camera spends first 30 minutes of this movie peering over the pasty, squat neck of a middle aged carpentry teacher -- we follow him, usually from the rear, as he bustles about his workshop, his apartment, his daily errands. The Dardennes make little allowance for our desire to hear an actual human conversation, or at least a scene that doesn't begin or end with that damned stolid neck.
Normally I'm averse to films that purposefully afflict this kind of cinematic pain on the viewer. Forced discomfort is not artistic enlightenment. But in The Son, this early frustration is necessary preparation for the drama that follows. It's the ocean of sad, tedious banality that allows for the island of catharsis. Without giving away the entire plot, I'll just say that this film, bulky carpenter's neck and all, may be the most triumphant and exalting testament to human decency put onto film in the 21st century. Yeah, I said it: this is the feel good movie of the decade! Suck on that, Peter Travers.
Normally I'm averse to films that purposefully afflict this kind of cinematic pain on the viewer. Forced discomfort is not artistic enlightenment. But in The Son, this early frustration is necessary preparation for the drama that follows. It's the ocean of sad, tedious banality that allows for the island of catharsis. Without giving away the entire plot, I'll just say that this film, bulky carpenter's neck and all, may be the most triumphant and exalting testament to human decency put onto film in the 21st century. Yeah, I said it: this is the feel good movie of the decade! Suck on that, Peter Travers.
12. Into The Wild (2007)
Maybe my most shattering theater experience of the 2000s. I didn't go in with particularly high expectations -- hadn't read the book, didn't love the idea of Sean Penn as a director, was skeptical of the entire 'sainted hermit' premise.
It won me over. Looking back, the movie hasn't grown stronger in my memory, and its broader strokes -- the Jesus imagery, some of the parental stuff, everything with Jena Malone -- might not wear so well. (BTW, I just realized I have two Jena Malone movies in my top 12. Disturbing.)
But a rating any lower than this would be phony dishonest posturing. C/f Costanza: "The young man got to me!" Eddie Vedder got to me. Hal Holbrooke got to me. Vince Vaughn didn't totally get to me, but he was great. By the end, the movie is pushing its argument -- a direct rebuttal to McCandless's gloss on Thoreau, "you're wrong if you think that the joy of life comes principally from human relationships" -- with a pretty heavy hand. But it's a heavy-handed argument I can get behind! And the end of the thing just hollowed me out.
It won me over. Looking back, the movie hasn't grown stronger in my memory, and its broader strokes -- the Jesus imagery, some of the parental stuff, everything with Jena Malone -- might not wear so well. (BTW, I just realized I have two Jena Malone movies in my top 12. Disturbing.)
But a rating any lower than this would be phony dishonest posturing. C/f Costanza: "The young man got to me!" Eddie Vedder got to me. Hal Holbrooke got to me. Vince Vaughn didn't totally get to me, but he was great. By the end, the movie is pushing its argument -- a direct rebuttal to McCandless's gloss on Thoreau, "you're wrong if you think that the joy of life comes principally from human relationships" -- with a pretty heavy hand. But it's a heavy-handed argument I can get behind! And the end of the thing just hollowed me out.
11. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
When I first saw this in the theater, over five years ago, I'm would have marked it down as a dazzling, shimmering, triumphant, eternal, and spotless #1 for the decade. Only a mild -- exceedingly mild -- disappointment on second watching keeps it out of the top 10.
But in the main, it holds up. Kate Winslet's vivid, fiery turn is an obvious nominee for Best Actress of the Decade. Jim Carrey is a perfect bemused depressive. And the rest of the cast is terrific, right down to Elijah Wood's surprising appearance as a creepy modern Frodo.
Best of all, of course, is Joel and Clementine's desperate race against the destruction of his memory. It's a great pomo gimmick, a fun excuse for Carrey to revisit the trauma of childhood, and a glorious, crushing metaphor for the cruel limits that time imposes on all love -- Andrew Marvell is as relevant here as Alexander Pope. Yet hope somehow prevails. I still get a tingle whenever I come across a train schedule or vacation guide or newspaper article that has the word "Montauk."
But in the main, it holds up. Kate Winslet's vivid, fiery turn is an obvious nominee for Best Actress of the Decade. Jim Carrey is a perfect bemused depressive. And the rest of the cast is terrific, right down to Elijah Wood's surprising appearance as a creepy modern Frodo.
Best of all, of course, is Joel and Clementine's desperate race against the destruction of his memory. It's a great pomo gimmick, a fun excuse for Carrey to revisit the trauma of childhood, and a glorious, crushing metaphor for the cruel limits that time imposes on all love -- Andrew Marvell is as relevant here as Alexander Pope. Yet hope somehow prevails. I still get a tingle whenever I come across a train schedule or vacation guide or newspaper article that has the word "Montauk."