Let the Golden Age Begin

Paris is a magical city. I've never been there, but, in his new film Midnight in Paris, Woody Allen sure made me think so. It is indeed a magical film. Many have said recently that it's his best in years. It's certainly my favorite since Match Point in 2005. His movies are never really bad, but when you've made at least one movie per year since 1977 it's hard for them all to be masterpieces. This one is close. It's like Field of Dreams for English majors.

Midnight in Paris stars Owen Wilson as Gil, a self-admitted "Hollywood hack" of a screenwriter, who is on vacation in Paris with his fiance, Inez (Rachel McAdams), and her wealthy family. Gil is tired of writing crap movies and has decided to work on more serious works like the novel he is currently writing. He's a bit of a dreamer and longs for the past. He wishes he could've been around Paris in the '20s, when the finest American writers were doing their best (and worst). He wants to be impulsive and entertains the fancy of maybe even staying abroad. Inez and her family see all this as simple pipe dreams and put no faith in his idealism. Then, one night, as Gil sits, sort of drunk, on a side street in Paris, the clock strikes midnight...

I won't even begin to go into what he sees and experiences. I can only say that what ensues is one of the most delightful times I've had at the movies in a long time. The casting of Owen Wilson is perfect. He plays Gil with just the right notes of humor and boyishness and longing for a more artful life. Paris becomes his muse and his audience and his past in some very inventive and funny and magical ways, and it is a complete joy to watch. He finds the enlightenment of his late night walks immensely satisfying and, in the end, he understands how his life could be and should be. He learns how to truly love when he befriends, over the course of several of his late-night strolls, the beautiful Adriana (Marion Cotillard), and he learns how to truly be a good writer in encounters with many other assorted characters (a whole slue of great surprises).

Perhaps the best thing about Woody Allen films for me is that they feature characters that are so well-read. Midnight in Paris is certainly no exception. His characters speak at an elevated level. They really talk about things that people like me care about. I've had conversations like they do in his films. The dialogue in this film is, above all, what makes it so good. You could probably just listen to it and still find it funny and charming. The great look of Woody's magical Paris is simply an added bonus. I left Midnight in Paris with two things on my mind:  That was the best movie I've seen this year, and I can't wait to see it again.

Man! That Music Creeps Me Out!

Stanley Kubrick's 1980 film The Shining is one scary movie. And it scares you without being very violent. There is really only one murder in the film, and it's only a little bit bloody. Of course, there's that whole blood pouring out of the walls shot and some quick gory images, but... Anyway, when my students talk about "scary" movies like Saw VI and Paranormal Activity and the new PG-13 jump-fest that week, I always tell them they should see a really scary movie like The Shining.

What makes this movie scary? The Shining is scary because it is NOT about blood and guts and cheap thrills. It's about isolation and alienation and basic human fears like being locked up in a creepy old haunted hotel 30 miles from the nearest town with six feet of snow on the ground outside and no phone lines. It's about alcoholism and abuse. It's about an extremely dysfunctional family that pawns off the guise of being happy and then puts itself in a situation where it doesn't need the guise anymore. It is scary because of these things and the madness that overtakes the main character, Jack Torrance (brilliant performance from Jack Nicholson).

We know the basic story of this movie: a man, Jack Torrance, gets a job as the caretaker of the Overlook Hotel, which sits high in the Rockies and has a scary past, he has a history of alcoholism and abuse, his son is sort-of psychic and has a creepy imaginary friend, his wife (Shelley Duvall) is oblivious to almost everything but tries to be a good wife and mother, they move to the hotel and, well, things don't get better for them. The plot is really pretty simple, and Kubrick, taking the Stephen King novel as his source material, simplifies it even more. He spends a lot of time building things up, creating tension in the audience. I leaned over to Amanda at one point while we were watching and said, "I think it's great how it takes so long for something to happen. And, man, that music creeps me out."

Stanley Kubrick is largely consider one of cinema's greatest directors even though his films are mostly slow and long and usually more style than substance. He was also known for being particularly hard to work for as an actor. There are stories about how during the filming of The Shining, he would do 100+ takes of some scenes, get in shouting matches with Shelley Duvall. In fact, it took almost a year to make this movie, which is much longer than originally planned. He really knew how to get into an actor's head, which is extremely effective in the case of this film. Furthermore, Kubrick's style is really incredible. His camera is constantly moving. He uses wide-angle lenses and long shot to alienate the audience from the character, to make them seem distant and alone. The camera slowly follows behind young Danny as he cruises the hallways of the Overlook in his big wheel, and we wonder what's around the next corner. What is he going to see? Is what he sees really there? Wait...what?

Yes. All of the characters see things in this film. Very scary things. Blood, dead twin girls, a 1920s bartender name Lloyd and various past patrons of the hotel, Scatman Crothers is in it as the only trustworthy character, axes, a slimy old woman in a bath tub, etc. However, we can never be sure if these things are really there or the hallucinations of a psychopath or a tired, scared woman or the psychic visions of a little boy. Thus, we are alienated once again from the characters because not one of them is put into a position where they can be totally trusted. They are either crazy, scared, or distant, or all three.

The Shining was not very well-received by critics, but initially did pretty well with the general public. It has certainly stood the test of time and is now widely-considered one of the best horror films ever made. My Mom rented it for me when I was maybe 13-years-old, and I was literally scared to walk up the stairs to my bedroom after we watched it. For me, it is the quintessential horror movie because it is not a blood fest. It gets into your head and sticks with you. It's enigmatic and makes you think. And that damn music. Man, it's creepy! 

Chicago Dog

At some point during my recent vacation to Chicago, I asked Amanda if she'd ever seen The Fugitive. I told her how it is such a great "Chicago movie." This is true. Chicago is famous for several reasons (in my mind), including, but not limited to: Al Capone, Michael Jordan, the most over-the-top hot dogs in the country (amazing, by the way), Roger Ebert, that dude that caught the foul ball at Wrigley, and this 1993 Harrison Ford movie. It has to my way of thinking become as iconic as any of those other people and events because, well, it is just plain and simple a truly entertaining movie.

The rundown: Harrison Ford plays a wealthy Chicago surgeon named Richard Kimball, who is wrongly accused and convicted of the brutal murder of his wife. He claims he fought off the "one-armed man" who really did it and then, in a stroke of action direction genius finds himself a fugitive before even getting to prison. He is now the target of the relentless, hard, and hard-working U.S. Marshal Sam Gerard (Best Supporting Actor Tommy Lee Jones). The plot of this movie is so good and so smooth I shall refrain from spoiling too much for those few of you hermits who never saw this flick.

Ford is great in this movie as the man on the run, with a mission, and nothing to lose. However, it is Tommy Lee Jones's performance as the Marshall that makes me love it so much. He plays the character perfectly--sort of sarcastic, charismatic, determined, in-charge, and somehow likable all at the same time. That is what I think sets this movie apart from many others. We actually like the hunter and the hunted equally. We want Gerard to get his man, and we want Kimball to be free at the same time. The little screen time the two leads have together is remarkable. In the well-known dam scene just before one of Kimball's ballsy escapes, he tells the Gerard, "I didn't kill my wife!" To give you an idea of the Marshal's personality, here is his reply: "I don't care!" This line, which I actually chuckle at every time, is great because of its truth and untruth at the same time. Truth: He doesn't care...at least not yet. Untruth: He really does care just not about Kimball's innocence. He simply wants to do his job and catch his man.

And he's obviously good at this job. The movie allows the audience to see not only the hunt for Kimball but strays away from that in one incredible scene of violence, which reinforces the grit of the Jones character. Another escapee is hunted down and instead of negotiating with the man, he just shoots him right out of the convicts grasp on a rookie officer. The rookie is shaken and afraid. Gerard tells him point blank, "I don't negotiate." We sense that this man is dogged, a bloodhound, in his pursuits and doesn't leave many cases cold. Thus, we root for him just as we're rooting for Kimball to clear his name.

Director Andrew Davis, a veteran of action movies, is the architect behind this hunt. And what I admire so much about him as a directer is how he makes this movie entertaining without ridiculous chase sequences and explosions. CGI? You will find none. Of course, in '93 there wasn't much in the way of quality CGI as we know it today, but I digress. The biggest special effect in The Fugitive is the escape scene with the prison bus and the derailed train. Davis and his crew literally derailed a train here...like for real. Eat your heart out Michael Bay. This movie is suspenseful and taut and enthralling for almost any age (I saw it in the theater at age 9 and loved every second even then). And I think Davis's direction plays a large part in that. The chases seem real, the characters seem real, and the plot is quite plausible. We glide along as part of the hunt and the mystery and feel right at home in its Chicago locations.

Famous chef and TV personality Anthony Bourdain said, and I'm paraphrasing here, that apart from New York, Chicago is America's only other true and great metropolis. Having visited both cities, I can agree. Chicago, in a way, is sort of the forgotten metropolis. It is a massive city, but one with that mid-western feel. The people there are just more real to me than New Yorkers. Chicago plays an integral role in The Fugitive becoming the backdrop for the Ford-Jones manhunt. At one point Kimball eludes his predator once again in the midst of a downtown St. Patrick's Day parade. Gerard and his team of Marshals are able to use the streets and the sounds of the city to locate their suspect at one point hearing the bells and stops of the "L" train. Furthermore, the "L" train also works in conjunction with the streets and buildings to create a dark and ominous tone in one key scene...foreshadowing a future, and unexpected, villain.

With The Fugitive, Harrison Ford continued his reign as the aging action star, a title he would keep for many years after this film. Andrew Davis, who has never made a movie as good as this one, continued making fairly well-received action movies. The City of Chicago has been a mainstay in the movie business with what that very famous Oscar-stealing musical (and all that jazz) and as the shooting location for Christopher Nolan's two great "Batman" films. And Tommy Lee Jones ended making a huge mark with this film by winning the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor. That dog sure does hunt.  

The City of Angels

About halfway through my umpteenth viewing of Curtis Hanson's 1997 film L.A. Confidential, I turned to my girlfriend (her first viewing) and answered the question she'd asked of me about 10 minutes earlier:

Amanda: What do you love about this movie so much? 

Me: (10 minutes later) I think what's so great about this movie is that no matter how many times I watch it I can never remember what's going to happen next. 

The plot (or lack of plot) in L.A. Confidential is indeed what makes it great. It begins as a series of episodes involving three LA cops (circa 1953). They are the hardened tough guy Officer Bud White (Russell Crowe), the Hollywood smooth operator Sgt. Jack Vincennes (Kevin Spacey), and the self-reightous political player Lt. Ed Exley (Guy Pearce). And their stories don't really seem related at first. In fact, nothing seems to relate to anything in the first hour + of this movie. One thing leads to another then another then another and all seem to circle back to a millionaire investor and dealer in "smut" and hookers "cut to look like movie stars," Pierce Patchett (David Strathairn) and his involvement with a couple of ex-police officers and missing mafia drugs. There is, in the beginning, the incarceration of a mob boss and his missing heroin, the introduction of Patchett and his prized girl Lynn Bracken (Kim Basinger), who is a Veronica Lake look-alike, and a brutal bloodbath at the Nite Owl (a local diner) in which an ex-police officer and one of Patchett's girls are victims. 

The viewer is constantly guessing who-dun-it, but what has been done and why do we care? The answer to the first part of that question doesn't really matter. It's not who-dun-it we care about. It's the characters. We care because we are so seamlessly brought into this world that we glide along with these detectives through the glitz of '50s Los Angeles, eventually understanding that this is not a standard police procedural where the big bad man is finally unveiled.

Even though that is exactly what happens in the end, L.A. Confidential is quite the opposite of any standard formula, even for film noir. It gets into not only the time period (its look, its feel, its colors, its characters), but it gets into the minds of its three protagonists. Consider a shot near the beginning with the suspension of the Crowe character, Officer White. The Police Chief, when White refuses to testify against his parter, gives him the standard, "Your badge and gun, officer!" The look on the young officer's face (masterful acting by a young Crowe) is one of surprise, shock, anger, and confusion in one glance. Then consider two scenes later when his Captain, Dudley Smith (James Cromwell), gives it back. Curtis Hanson is obviously great with actors. He seems, especially in this film, to find just the right reaction shots. His camera is filled with the great look of this period but also the internal motivations of three LA police officers. All of them at different ranks, following different leads from different crimes, and somehow bringing them all together as three men, who really just want to be, simply, good police officers. 

At one point, Exley (Pearce) tells Vincennes (Spacey) of why he became a cop, a story about the death of his father and revenge with proper justice. He then asks Vincennes, "Why did you become a cop?" To which Vincennes replies, "I don't know anymore." We sense here that these men have consciences and, ultimately, want to be honest policemen in a world of pure corruption. Furthermore, this is, in many ways, a film about an era in Los Angeles that represents the beginning of police and the media, when the gap between the everyman and the public eye was just starting to slightly close. Vincennes, whose favorite part of the job is being a consultant on TVs "Badge of Honor," represents this and Exley and White are brought into it as part of the game being played by Patchett, Lynn (the movie star hooker), the corrupt police force, and the gossip columnist Sid Hudgens (Danny DeVito).

All of the many tunnels of this labyrinth are eventually brought together with the big third act plot twist and a violent shootout, but this movie does not sell out like I make it sound. In fact, by the end, we have almost forgotten where we began only to finally remember that we started with three flawed protagonists, who have now become what they wanted by doing what they thought they never would. They have each taken on the worst (and best) in each other leaving the viewer to ponder about not only the masterful "plot" but the arc of their psyches, the warm L.A. nights, and the beautiful call girl who didn't need to be "cut" to look like Veronica Lake. 

Lost: My Explanation (Spoiler Warning!!!)

"If we can't live together, we're gonna die alone."

- Dr. Jack Shephard during Season 1 (played by Matthew Fox)

I've been trying to decipher the final 2 1/2 hour episode of Lost since I watched in on Sunday night. I re-watched today, and I think I know what happened. Here is my explanation of the "flash sideways," the Island, and Jack Shephard.

Each season of Lost (post season 2) brought us something new as a means of storytelling. Season 6 a.k.a. The Final Season gave us the "flash sideways," which is simply an alternate reality that the characters "all made together" to "find each other" and to get closure so they could all move on. I think of it as sort of a stepping stone to Heaven. They all became reunited in this "place" realizing that they were meant to be together, that they were meant to be on The Island and know and love each other there in real life. The Island time of coming to know each other was the most important part of their lives as Jack's Dad puts it, so they (in some far off future after they have all died) created a perfect "real world" where they could become intwined with each other and remember that they once were all together on The Island and that it was important that they were there. Their destinies were fulfilled on The Island. It really DID matter that Jack stayed to save the Island and die there. The only way they could all be together again was for Jack to finally fulfill his destiny. Saving the Island, restoring good and peace.

The show is truly about Jack and his inability to get things right. He had to keep trying to fulfill his destiny. He had to become more like Locke was in the beginning. He had to believe in something, to gain and understand and practice faith in something. He had to keep trying to get it right.

Trying to "fix everything" didn't work in the first few seasons, leaving the Island didn't work (seasons 3/4), coming back and trying to blow up the Island didn't work (season 5). Season 6, the final season, was about Jack becoming what the Island wanted him to be, to accomplish. He could only make things truly right with his family (his father, Claire)in the "flash sideways." He kept getting chances to be truly good, to do what he was meant to do, and the only way for him to do that, to save everyone was for him to die on the Island. Don't worry, I'm not ready to start delving into the Biblical allegory just yet in this, my initial thoughts on "The End." However, Jack was always meant to die, to sacrifice himself for the Island, for good. 


In Season 2, Jack and Locke were at odds on how to protect The Island (ie. the hatch, the button, "Man of Science, Man of Faith"). They were polar opposites. When Locke died, Jack brought him back to the Island. Locke became the Evil side and Jack became the Good. But Jack knew that this evil wasn't really Locke. The fact that Jack made Locke walk again in the "flash sideways" gives me the most satisfaction. By doing this, Jack was able to prove to HIMSELF that he could be a "Man of Faith" like Locke, a man of miracles, and could finally be at peace with all of those he came to love on The Island. He knew he had to die, so he could see them all again and "let go"/"move on." In doing this, he didn't truly "die alone."

Note: I have without a doubt left plenty of things out of this as far as many other characters go, specifically the importance of Desmond, Ben, and Hurley. Maybe you readers can add them into my discussion here, and we can see what happens. 

She's Out of My League: In a League of It's Own

I've been watching a lot of comedies recently. And I haven't seen one quite as nice as She's Out of My League in a while. In a time where so many comedies rely on gross out gags and shock value, this movie rises above. Sure, it's not as funny as something out of the Apatow camp. It's not as slick or cool or even heartfelt as the reigning romantic comedy of last year, 500 Days of Summer. However, it offers us something more than cool and sometimes better than funny. And that is heart. 

It finds greatness with it's acting. Jay Baruchel (of supporting fame in Knocked Up and Tropic Thunder) is a really likable actor in that he doesn't really seem like an actor. He plays Kirk, the hapless 5 and airport security agent, like a guy you know, a nice guy, someone you would actually hang out with. It doesn't seem so strange that a girl like Molly, a 10, played by the stunningly beautiful Alice Eve, would like him. He seems real and so do his buddies (T.J. Miller, Mike Vogel, and Nate Torrance), who surround him with horrible advice on how to handle his new found love interest. She meets his crazy family and ex-girlfriend (Lindsey Sloane), which provides some truly hilarious stuff and adds to the movie's overall charm. This movie works because we can identify with Kirk's nervousness and awkwardness and shyness. It makes you root for him, for them, for it all to work out.

This movie is formula romantic comedy. It's been done before. But I laughed a lot watching it. Actually, I should say I laughed with this movie. It is not going for Oscars and it's not going for shock and/or awe. It's a simple movie about a good guy with good friends who want him to land the girl of his dreams.

***1/2 out of ****

The Future: Brought to You by James Cameron

I knew as I was watching there has never been a movie like James Cameron's Avatar. I was seeing something unique and special. I don't usually care for mega-budget special effects movie, this one is special. It is one of the best movie experiences of my life. It is a feast for the eyes that boasts incredible performances by little known actors who will most likely become movie stars. It is an achievement in visual effects like no other movie before it. It is, at once, an allegory about American politics, war-mongering, and our society's destruction of nature and natural resources, and a special effects extravaganza for the ages. Both parts work and work well.

Jake Sully (Sam Worthington), a paraplegic ex-Marine, is offered a job working on the planet Pandora as a genetic fill-in for his recently deceased brother. This brother has had an "Avatar" created for him, which is a remotely controlled body made from human traits and those from the Na'vi, the indigenous "people" of Pandora. Jake's avatar gets lost in the forests of Pandora and is discovered by Neytiri (Zoe Saldana), a young Na'vi woman. Jake begins by following orders from his military superiors gathering intelligence for his warmongering bosses who wish to mine the planet for this mineral that Earth needs (my guess is that Earth at this point...the year 2154...has been pretty much demolished by technology and suburban sprawl and this mineral from Pandora replenishes resources in some way). However, Jake soon realizes how special these people and their planet is and things change.

I won't go into anymore plot detail. That's all you should know going in. However, you should know that this movie needs to be seen on the big screen and probably in 3D or IMAX 3D. I saw it on a regular movie screen and was still blown away by its visual brilliance. I'm talking the most amazing light and color and natural beauty and bizarre creatures and futuristic machinery ever created for a movie. And, although the Na'vi themselves are animated, they actually look and move like the actors playing them through the use of that motion capture technology that gave us "Gollom" in the LOTR films and Zemeckis's last three (Polar Express, Beowulf, A Christmas Carol). It is used to perfection here. It seems more realistic. The digital characters are given real space in physical locations like military bases and among trees and waterfalls. This movie is breathtaking. I can't even begin to fathom how something like this is made. James Cameron (writer/director for the first time since Titanic in 1997) will be hard to beat for the Best Director Oscar. He has proven, again, that he is a master of technology and a master storyteller.

As for me, I'll be going back to see it in IMAX. Who's coming with me?

Walt Whitman's Blue Jeans

Levi Jeans commercials make me want to google them. There was the brilliant one from last year with the girl and the guy stripping while one-upping each other with selfish lies:





Then there was one even further back that I still remember with actor Gael Garcia Bernal and the Air song, "Playground Love:"





Then, last summer, I saw this one in front of a movie (not sure which), but it has stuck with me ever since, and I still see it on TV every once in a while. It is probably my favorite advertisement of the last few years:





It's very Dead Poet's Society with a touch of too hipster for school. And that's just what I like about it. It gets you marching to the beat of a different drummer...Walt Whitman himself. I literally mean that. I walk around Clinton Middle School with these images in my head (stellar camera work in this thing) and the sound of that poem in my head. It flows so well. The imagery in those stanzas makes you wish you were a true artist. 


COME, my tan-faced children,
Follow well in order, get your weapons ready,

Have you your pistols? Have you your sharp-edged axes?

Pioneers! O pioneers!


For we cannot tarry here,

We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger,

We the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend,

Pioneers! O pioneers!


O you youths, Western youths,

So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,

Plain I see you Western youths, see you tramping with the foremost,

Pioneers! O pioneers!

When I hear these words I can feel Whitman's fascination with America, with America heading West, a pioneer preaching "pioneers!" They make me want to be a pioneer. A leader of "tan-faced children." "Go West, young man!" I say in my head. These powerful words, how they make me want to say how much I love them, how their syllabic stresses and unstresses compose a beat, a melody. And how with the help of creative cinematography and editing, music, bodies in motion, they are transformed into something cool, here and now, worth watching. I haven't gone out to buy any Levi's yet, but I think Walt might just be calling me to get some.

A pioneer in denim, I'll be. 

A denim pioneer of lessons in poetry. 

My eighth graders participated in a project Monday thru Wednesday of this past week that had them on a scavenger hunt for simile, metaphor, personification, alliteration, repetition (hey! I just found some of that "Pioneers! O pioneers!"), end rhyme, internal rhyme, hyperbole, etc. We placed 35 poems around the CMS auditorium, and the students had to go around in groups and pick out examples of the aforementioned figurative language. We only had one Whitman poem up there, "I Hear America Singing" (personification). A better one for the age group I have. However, I am often disheartened when I see these children (young adults?) wondering around without care or passion for the things I love so much. I doubt that more than a handful really got something out of the project. 

In a way, I feel like I'm trying to achieve through teaching poetry what Whitman achieved with in writing this poem. That is, trying to inspire the young and the lost to go out and explore, to think outside the box, to be a little smarter. And I wonder if, when they (my students) see this commercial on TV, they think it's cool and get the itch to google it. I mean go back up and read those beginning stanzas in red, they speak directly to them. And they make me want to try harder next time around. 

Top Ten of the Decade

My dad sent me an email with the following link:

http://www.rollingstone.com/photos/gallery/31234572/peter_travers_10_best_movies_of_t/

And this question: 


What do you think?


Here is my response, since I have some time on my hands: 


Pop,

I think it's a damn good list that is just lacking a bit in variety. The closest thing he as to comedy on there is The Incredibles, which I don't really like that much. (Finding Nemo (2003) is the best Pixar movie of the decade, in my opinion.) I made a list of my own, which, I know, leaves some great ones out (Kill Bill, Inglorious Basterds, Mystic River, Million Dollar Baby, Juno, Into the Wild, Minority Report, O Brother, Where Art Thou?, etc), but it adds in some lesser known movies (Moonlight Mile and All the Real Girls) and some big-time, but important, comedies (The 40-Year-Old Virgin and Superbad). Here it is:

1. Moonlight Mile (Brad Silberling, 2002)

This is a simple movie named after a 1970 Rolling Stones song that is loaded with an acting tour-de-force. Dustin Hoffman and Susan Sarandon take in their murdered daughter's fiance (Jake Gyllenhaal...who steals the show), and we see them grieve and cope together in the early 1970s. Ellen Pompeo (pre-Gray's Anatomy) shines like the sun as the love interest. It seems bleak from the description, but this movie will leave you with a smile on your face for days, months, years. I saw it in the theater in 2002, and I still think about it weekly. One of the best movie experiences of my life! Simple, true, and brilliant!

2. Almost Famous (Cameron Crowe, 2000)

Rock 'n' roll period piece (based on Cameron Crowe's actual experiences as a teen journalist) about a 15-year-old rock writer in over his head writing a cover story on an Allman-like rock band for Rolling Stone. It gave us Kate Hudson, who made everyone in America fall in love, and it made every music worshipping teenage boy jealous of Cameron Crowe's life story. This movie will grab your ears and your heart and make you realize why life is great.

3. Children of Men (Alfonso Cuaron, 2006)

The most realistic-seeming portrait of the future I've seen. Cuaron's skill behind the camera is nothing short of amazing. There is a 13-minute action sequence in this movie that is composed of one long take. No cuts at all! Even if you don't care about or notice that type of stuff, it doesn't matter because the story is so compelling and well-told.

4. All the Real Girls (David Gordon Green, 2003)

One of David Gordon Green's first three Southern masterpieces along with George Washington (2000) and Undertow (2004), this movie explores a relationship between a small-town womanizer and his best friend's innocent younger sister. The power of first love has never been more accurately portrayed, and it hits home with me because it was filmed and is set in small-town Western North Carolina. It put Paul Schneider, a great actor, on the map. And gave Zooey Deschanel a starring role for the first time. They are both incredible.

5. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Michel Gondry, 2004)

The power of love in reverse with a title taken from an Alexander Pope poem. Jim Carrey as you've never seen him before, trying to hold onto memories as they're being erased from his brain. Kate Winslet makes you realize how much you love her too. And it's just so weird! Plus, Jon Brion's score will haunt you for life. Just one in a series of writer Charlie Kaufman's brain-busting movies of the 2000s.

6. High Fidelity (Stephen Frears, 2000)

Quite simply, one of the best comedies I've seen. You can quote almost any line in it. You know someone is cool if they quote this movie. Jack Black is at the top of his game, Cusack is always good, and Tim Robbins' cameo role is stellar. You have to include a movie that glorifies elitist list-making in an elitist's list.

7. The Departed (Martin Scorsese, 2006)

Scorsese at his beat-ass best...Boston-style! Probably one of the best ensemble casts ever assembled (Leo, Matty Damon, Mark Wahlberg, Alec Baldwin, Jack Nicholson, Martin Sheen) with an ending that I never saw coming and that still shocks me every single time.

8. The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (Andrew Dominik, 2007)

The most beautifully filmed movie I've ever seen. The cinematography is unlike anything you will ever see. The music by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis is heartbreaking. And Brad Pitt and Casey Affleck give unbelievable performances.

9. No Country for Old Men (Joel and Ethan Coen, 2007)

Cormac McCarthy's bleak, violent, and existential look at America given a visual pulse by the best American filmmakers working today. Enough said!

10. The 40-Year-Old Virgin (Judd Apatow, 2005) / Superbad (Greg Mottola, 2007)

I picked these two comedies because of their success across the board. Everybody loves these movies, and I cannot exclude myself from that list. These are two of the most quotable movies ever. And they are both honest and true to the way men, from high school to age 40, really talk. Judd Apatow had a hand in both of these projects, and it put him on the map in a big way along with Seth Rogen and Jonah Hill.

Honorable Mentions: 

25th Hour (Spike Lee, 2002)

This movie should actually be in my top five. We'll just consider it a tie with #3 Children of Men for best dramatic film of the decade. It is masterful. The story of a drug dealer's last 24 hours before going to prison. It is at once the story of a man who wishes he'd done things differently, the story of a man's lifelong friendships, the story of a man and his father, and it is all set in front of the back drop of post - 9/11 New York City/America. If you are not in tears at the end, you have neither heart nor soul.


Avatar (James Cameron, 2009)

I just saw this masterpiece last night. It is THE most visually stunning thing I have ever seen. Most of it is CGI, but it is the best CGI ever used by anyone. James Cameron (behind the camera for the first time since Titanic) has retained his title as "King of the World" to paraphrase Roger Ebert. And I agree. This is certainly worthy of a best of the decade list for the sheer fact that there has never been a better marriage between allegory and special effects. Go see it! And read my full review above.

"Urban-Haute Bourgeoise": Conversations with Rich Teenagers in Manhattan

I just re-watched a movie tonight that I absolutely love. It takes place in a world that I know nothing about, yet it touches me to the extent that I am smiling right now. So, this is me adding one to my Christmas list for this year--the Criterion DVD of Whit Stillman's 1990 debut Metropolitan. If I don't get it as a gift, I believe I'll gift it to myself.

Most people I know have never even heard of this movie. However, it is generally regarded by critics as a good film with great dialogue. In his original review of Metropolitan, Roger Ebert wrote that Stillman, "has made a film Scott Fitzgerald might have been comfortable with, a film about people covering their own insecurities with a facade of social ease. And he has written wonderful dialogue, words in which the characters discuss ideas and feelings instead of simply marching through plot points..." That is so true. I like movies where the dialogue overrides the plot. Sometimes it is just more interesting to hear what people have to say than what crazy plot they're involved in. 

Stillman gives us, in Metropolitan, a group of young men and women embroiled in the Manhattan debutante season during Christmas break. The film opens with Tom Townsend (Edward Clements), a very serious young man, sharing a cab outside The Plaza with the late-teenaged spawn of the Upper East Side. Tom, you see, is a "West Sider" and not as wealthy as Nick (Chris Eigeman) and the others. They haven't seen him around at the "dances" this season, but they invite him to the after-party anyway. Tom pretends to be opposed to all this stuff, but comes to love it. Audrey Rouget gets a crush on him, but he's in love with the elusive Serena Slocumb, who is in love with the pony-tailed Rick Von Sloneker and so on and so on and "Cha-cha-cha." 

The young rich begin going to Sally Fowler's parents' penthouse, talking through the night about French socialist writers and the idea that "preppies" like themselves may be doomed to downward mobility. There is presented scene after scene of just simply talking. The comedy is in the dialogue. Very dry, straight-forward comedy. A comedy-of-manners. These young people are brutally honest. They have it all but must act like they don't want it. When the deb parties begin to slow down, the group starts to break up and go back to school or Paris or wherever. And you feel Tom Townsend's loneliness in the fact that this is the time in these people's lives when it is time to begin growing up. To begin the possible downward slide--the "failure." Or maybe not. There's still time. 

The great thing about Metropolitan, apart from the dialogue, and the reason I relate to it so much is that it is about the idealism you feel as someone in your late teens/early twenties. I grew up middle class in East Tennessee, but I've felt these feelings and had these conversations and confusions and desires. Maybe not in the same way but close.