This year has been pretty incredible for movies. I decided that for Oscar weekend I would put together my list of my favorite movies of the year, as the Oscars sort of marks the official end of that year in movies. I haven't seen everything, but I've seen enough to make the majority of the big calls. I wrote little blurbs about all of the films, and as I was writing the blurbs got longer and longer, but I don't really care enough to go back and regulate their lengths. No one cares about this but me. It'll be nice to look back on it. Without further ado...
1. Drive - A definitive statement that style is substance. Every aspect of this production is flawless, from the design, to the cinematography, to the performances. The plot is a twisted, intoxicating, and addictive trip down the rabbit hole to a fairy-tale world that feels as ominous and unfortunate as our own. This is the only film on this list that is not only one of the best movies of the year, but also one of the best movies of all-time.
2. Beginners - Mike Mills delivers on the promise of Thumbsucker with an utterly indulgent, self-centered masterpiece. If this movie was any less personal, it wouldn't be a success. The performances have an incredible depth--charming while still so flawed, so broken. The dog gave the second best dog performance of the year. The stylistic flourishes feed themselves into the emotion of the storyline and are intrinsically tied to the soul of the film, breaking down the fourth wall French New Wave-style.
3. Melancholia - Between Lars von Trier films, I always forget that von Trier is one of the best filmmakers alive. I only remember his controversial jokes about Hitler, and the hype about how he's a misogynist. I must remember to forget all of that nonsense. Here, von Trier tops Antichrist--a wonderful film that was flawed only in the way people talked about it--with Melancholia, a film about the end of the world that is somehow not about the end of the world at all, but instead about the feeling of believing that the world is absolutely going to end. The film is frightening, real, relatable, and devastating in ways both conscious and unconscious. A career-making performance from Kirstin Dunst that takes place in a beautiful ensemble. A stunning addition to an already impeccable filmography.
4. Midnight in Paris - I don't know why this movie works. Like all magic tricks, it flashes before your eyes and before you can observe the small details and figure out its mechanics, it's over and you're simply in awe. I knew nothing of the plot of this film before going in, except for what the trailer had told me. When I saw the trailer, I thought to myself, "I might be mistaken, but that actually didn't look terrible." I had no idea what I was in for. This premise should be silly and stupid, but instead this is the most magical film of the year, and a late-career triumph for Woody Allen. I've seen the film twice now, and both times I was enchanted by its strange spell. My only worry is that Woody is just as curious about how he did it as I am.
5. The Tree of Life - I went into this film expecting the best movie of all-time, so it goes without saying that I was a little bit let down. The awful CGI of the dinosaur by the river haunts me and marrs the film's indisputable beauty. However, it goes without saying that this film is an incredible achievement; anything Malick, a master of his craft, spent so much time on couldn't help but be incredible. The film is hypnotic and enchanting, wise but still naive. It uses the tiniest details to comment on the biggest of concepts. This is not the greatest film ever made, but it is one of the most noble (and potentially successful) pieces of art to ever try to sum up everything that it is to exist in our world.
6. Submarine - Richard Ayoade's directorial debut feels like it is purposefully continuing the tradition of Hal Ashby, being hilarious and sad with equal measure. In Ashby fashion, it is at once unsentimental and honest--stupid, one might say--but also a complete misrepresentation, stretched and torn by the destructive powers of nostalgia. It is nostalgic not just for adolescence as a phase and a phenomenon, but also for a place and a time that is since gone and past. One of the film's most perfect moments, when Oliver refers to "the Super 8 footage of memory," turns into a Super 8 montage itself--an exaggeration of the beauty of everything that is more true than the truth. The truth is that things were imperfect, but we remember them differently. We remember them as the best moments of our lives. And so Submarine is imperfect and hard to sit through--Oliver as a character is so awkward that it's uncomfortable to watch--but it is, at the same time, uncommonly beautiful and full of the wonder of being young.
7. Hugo - I've enjoyed Martin Scorsese's films for the past ten years, but I hadn't been absolutely blown away by any of them--as one should be when faced with the greatness of Scorsese--until Hugo. This is a beautifully shot, incredibly designed, wonderfully paced story that is about children--both young and old--but is not made for children. This is a movie about the power of art, the power of creativity, and, unfortunately, and the power of anxiety and our demons. This is a film that can restore one's faith not just in the intentions of people and the magic of existence, but also in the pure power of the cinema. The truth to the story of Hugo makes it that much more tantalizing. The tone of the film is reminiscent of the best moments of Jean-Pierre Jeunet's Amelie and A Very Long Engagement, but it's not that Scorsese is copping any moves; if anything, it's that Jeunet was ripping off Scorsese and now that Scorsese's set a film in Paris it's just that much more obvious. It is also notable that this is the best use of 3D technology I've seen used in movies.
8. Take Shelter - Take Shelter is a frightening, feverish, and compelling movie. The production of this film side-steps cheesiness and falsity by never taking CGI too far or too seriously. Sometimes you wonder, "Is that real?" while Michael Shannon's character is wondering the exact same thing. That is perfectly effective. Shannon and Jessica Chastain own this movie, and it succeeds at feeling like a nightmare that never ends, but instead only manifests itself in new forms.
9. The Descendants - Alexander Payne has always been a filmmaker of formidable talent. He has always been able to balance moods carefully, dangling his characters on little pieces of string, bringing them uncomfortably close to the flame. They tend to be awful people who are trying really, really hard to make something work--but that doesn't change that they're awful people, and that usually gets in their way, regardless of how hard they're trying. The characters of the Descendants might be Payne's most lovable batch of failures. To say the least, they might be his most successful. George Clooney gives what might be the best performance of his career here, in a movie that is both richly sad and strangely celebratory. There is so much good in these people, but that doesn't stop them from running into each other without mercy and mucking up everything they each had going for themselves. We are all frail, and we all make mistakes, and the Descendents realizes that fully.
10. The Innkeepers - Barely squeezing into the top ten is the best horror movie of the year. I had my qualms with Ti West's The House of the Devil, but the Innkeepers is a pitch-perfect, hilarious, and utterly frightening movie. The tone that's set by the set (a real hotel, with a real, haunted story to tell) is wonderful and looming. The dynamic between Sara Paxton and Pat Healy is what the movie hinges on: their relationship is so enjoyable to watch that, while the story is building up steam in the background, you're completely distracted by how charming these underpaid and lazy characters are. When the film finally reaches the ghost story you signed up for, it unravels into a psychological mystery that is unexpected, fantastic, and sad. There is a major twist at the end, both in plot and purpose, and it not only takes you completely by surprise and disarms you of pretension and expectations, but also makes you look back on the entire film with a new perspective that makes everything that much scarier.
11. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo - David Fincher's career has had a constant pattern: his odd-numbered movies are weaker, ranging from good to great, whereas his even-numbered movies are all masterpieces. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo is an odd-numbered movie, but it might the best of all of them. The film is too simple to be a Fincher masterpiece, but the story is highly entertaining and completely captivating. The tone, in typical Fincher fashion, is addictively dark. The ending is weak, which is a product of the source material. The "Aha!" moment is more of an, "Oh, okay," moment. But the mystery is only background here, because the characters--Mikael Blomkvist and Lisbeth Salander, of course, as well as the wonderfully bizarre Vanger family--are the real focus and driving force. Rooney Mara announces herself as one of the most talented actors working today, full of dedication and mystery. As far as pulpy entertainment is concerned, this telling of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo is about as startling, enjoyable, and perfectly built as you can get.
12. Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close - I did not expect this. The trailer for this film is an abomination. I find the story precious and annoying. However, against all odds, this film is completely affecting and sad. I liked it so much that, immediately after seeing the movie, I began reading the book. The book is about the broad strokes; it attempts to encompass the world and everybody in it. It's about a huge pallet of emotions and the enormity of the human spirit. The movie, however, has very little of the book in it. In total, the movie is a two-and-a-half hour summation of about 50 pages of the book. But those 50 pages are where all of the meat is, and so the story blossoms into something that is relatable and beautiful in its fragility. It's also notable that I hate Sandra Bullock more than I hate almost any other actor. However, Sandra Bullock is a large part of what makes this film incredible. The casting was obviously magnificent, but Bullock hits it so far out of the park that the park doesn't even matter; her performance is peerless. I've rarely seen a movie that has made me want to curl into a ball of nonexistence and cry as much as this one. To put it simply, this film gave me very heavy boots.
13. Young Adult - Diablo Cody has grown immeasurably in the past few years. Juno was annoying. Jennifer's Body was fun but inconsequential. Young Adult is a mature and devastating work of a screenwriter at the top of her game. This film feels personal, like a freshly-cut wound. Charlize Theron is unbearable in the lead role, while Patton Oswalt fills in the support with a devastating sadness. This a movie about someone so wrapped up in her own mess of a life that it's simply impossible for her to see that the world isn't actually catering to her. The world, actually, is shitting on her. Or, maybe she's just shitting on herself. This movie doesn't deal with learning your lessons or making things any better. This is how it actually goes: we get trapped in our own downward spirals and, even if we knew how to pull out of them, we wouldn't. We are creatures of habit. We are pathetic. We can barely lift our own weight. Some of us can't lift ourselves at all.
14. The Skin I Live In - The biggest problem with this movie is that its plot is defined by diminishing returns. Once you've seen this movie, you will never get to enjoy it as much ever again. The plot here is so outrageous and wonderful and twisted that it amounts to one of the most unique and mind-blowing viewing experiences in years. Watching the first half hour, you simply couldn't guess where it will end. That ride is worth the price of admission. But it's one of those sad movies, like David Fincher's The Game, where, once you reach the end, you know you've ruined it forever. You've used up your one great viewing of the film. You can watch it again and admire it, be reminded of why that first viewing was so amazing and thrilling, but you'll never be able to unravel this particular yarn more than once. It's like trying to put toothpaste back in the tube.
15. Shame - This film houses the best performance from Michael Fassbender this year, and that's no small feat--Fassbender is the one of the best actors to come to prominence this year, second only to Ryan Gosling. The movie itself, for its subject and its rating, is never over-the-top or senseless with its sexuality; it is, in fact, somber, quiet, and brooding. It is a character study of a person whose character has been absorbed in obsession. Like most people consumed by obsession, he doesn't enjoy being obsessed, or the thing he is obsessed with--he simply does not know how to live without it. He does not like himself, or his life. There is a delicate balance that keeps him from falling over the edge that his toes constantly dangle over. His sister, played by Carey Mulligan (the best actress of this year, as far as I'm concerned, between this and Drive), shows up, and to his perception, she's only there to ruin his balance and shove him headfirst into a tailspin. They are both lost children, connected in whatever deep harm was done to them years ago, expressing and covering their wounds in opposite ways.
16. Martha Marcy May Marlene - When I saw this film, the print looked faded and underdeveloped. I am not sure if it was intentional, but it suited the film. It feels amateurish in all the best ways--naive, but completely straight-faced and serious. Elizabeth Olsen's performance is alarming, and the sign of a brilliant career to come. The film is not without problems (the ending, in particular, feels like enough of a cop out that some people in the theater I was in thought she had imagined the whole thing, which is ludicrous and senseless (though I don't endorse playing to the lowest common denominator)), but the hypnotizing rhythm of cutting from present to past, the Manson-like performance of John Hawkes, the threatening seriousness of the cult, and the malleability of the main character of the title all make the film completely rewarding.
17. The Artist - This film has been completely overrated, and I'm not sure exactly why. Nevertheless, it's an enjoyable romp that's reminiscent in its sophisticated fun and topic to Singin' In The Rain. The film is pure homage--it has almost no existence outside of a cultural context. That makes it cheap, and a novelty, but it's a pleasant novelty--like a piece of chocolate candy. It's instantly comforting because you're never unsure about what you're getting into, and because it feels at once both contemporary and old. The lead performances are charming, and the camera work is impressive. Funny, sad, and reassuring--it's everything Hollywood filmmaking ought to be but isn't.
18. Certified Copy - This is a wonderfully dense conversation piece of a film from the legendary Abbas Kiarostami. Its tone reminded me of early Linklater--Before Sunrise, especially--because it's, at its core, some sort of European love story that is entirely dialogue based. However, what's interesting about the movie is that it's actually a puzzle, full of musings and tricks. It's fun to decode, and also wholly fascinating. It is a labyrinth spun entirely from word-based circumstance, and it gives you a lot to think about--in terms of what actually happened, and the ideas about originality--on the way home.
19. The Future - This film is devastating. I was not prepared for its darkness. Miranda July's last film, Me And You And Everyone We Know, was my favorite film of 2005. This is her long-awaited follow-up, and while it doesn't disappoint, it's so different in its point that it's disarming. If Me And You And Everyone We Know said something about how connected we are, The Future is the antithesis; The Future is a movie without hope. Watching it feels like being trapped inside a bad dream, except, deep down, you know you're actually trapped in a bad life. You have built this prison for yourself, because you can't help yourself, because you are actually alone. All those people you thought you knew--especially those ones you count on, that you really, really believed you connected with--you don't actually know. At best, they're mirages, fading quickly into the desert.
20. Terri - This is a worthy companion piece to Submarine, listed above. Watching the film, you feel bad for Terri, who's an overweight, awkward high schooler who decides to wear his pajamas to school. He wears his pajamas because they're comfortable. He's beyond caring what people think of him--at least, that's what he wants people to believe. He doesn't have any friends. He has his intermittently sick uncle that he lives with, but his uncle only cares about him peripherally, because that's all that he can do. John C. Reilly plays the vice principal that reaches out to Terri, but I still don't know if he did him any good. His character is just as lost as Terri is; he's older, sure, and he's faced more of life's issues, but that doesn't mean he's handled them successfully. In fact, he hasn't. But who does? One of the best conclusions that the film comes to is that no one does, and no one's ever ready for anything. Even that popular girl that you know is way out of your league--she's completely fucked, too, even though it looks like she's got everything together. When everything unravels, you'll see--she's got nothing but hands full of dust, just like you.
21. Bridesmaids - I don't think there's really any contest about it--this is the best comedy of the year. I'm pretty sure everyone knows it. Kristin Wiig assured herself super-stardom, and it's good to see that she took Maya Rudolph and Melissa McCarthy with her. McCarthy is the best part of the movie, which is good, because she displayed an enormous amount of talent on Gilmore Girls (a.k.a., the best show ever made, in case you weren't aware), and she deserves way better than what she's gotten since that show left the air. I'm glad that from now on, her name will be "Academy Award Nominee Melissa McCarthy." All is right in the world. (Or, at least, it would be if she actually won, which she won't.)
22. Hanna - I don't understand the backlash that accompanied the release of this film. It's a huge, completely stylized production, but it's one of the best action movies to be released in years. Joe Wright, who proved his talent right out of the gate with Pride & Prejudice, has made his best film yet. It looks gorgeous, and I wouldn't expect any less from Wright. The film may have some pacing issues, but it doesn't detract from its enjoyability. This is a story of images, and the sense of it matters little. As such, I think some of the images from this film will stick with me forever.
23. War Horse/The Adventures of Tintin - I don't feel that these two films are at all comparable, but I think they were equally good. Tintin is the best film in the vein of Indiana Jones since Indiana Jones--and Spielberg is the only filmmaker out there who can pull that off. (Zemeckis does a pretty good job, but it's just not his forte.) It's an amazing adventure movie, and probably the best use of motion capture so far. Wonderfully light entertainment. War Horse, on the other hand, is melodramatic and sweet. It often feels like Spielberg wishes he was John Ford, except for that he's got way too much heart. Even though the movie is a bit too self-satisfied for its own good, it succeeds at telling an engrossing story. I loved its episodic structure, and even though I didn't care about any of the characters, I was always interested in seeing what happened next. I love the colors of this film; it's beautifully filmed. Everything about it is completely derivative of other films, but it doesn't matter much--an entertaining film is an entertaining film.
24. Super 8 - I really didn't like the ending of this film. It can't make up its mind between being an alien movie and a drama about a group of friends. Forgiving its issues, it does have a lot of magic to it, though--what it settles on is a daydream in the mind of the characters. It is the lives they wish they led. Real life doesn't have this excitement, but when you're young you still wish it did. I loved all of these characters, and I liked the plot about the alien. They worked well together, but the movie's biggest success is making an alien story feel like the truth and what it actually feels like to be young, rather than making a compelling sci-fi story in its own right.
25. Moneyball - I didn't enjoy this film as much as everyone else seemed to. Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill both give great performances. (Brad's performance in the Tree of Life tops this one by far, though.) The writing is fantastic, and it's great to see Bennett Miller making another movie. Philip Seymour Hoffman is fat and grumpy. Spike Jonze is a jerk. I wish I knew something about baseball, but baseball is sort of America, and sometimes it seems like America was a good idea. Everything about this movie is solid, but it fails to be anything that awes or excels.
A Dangerous Method - A worthy addition to Cronenberg's filmography. Great, but dry.
The Help - A pleasant, very enjoyable movie spawned from white people exploiting black suffering.
The Ides of March - A taut, highly entertaining political thriller that has almost nothing to do with politics.
Kaboom - Gregg Araki's return to his roots. A wonderful and fun movie.
Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol - Needs no context; so much white knuckle fun.
The Muppets - Disappointing, but will probably age well. Needs a second viewing.
Scream 4 - The best in the series since the first movie. A great and worthy sequel.
Super - So dark it's almost not funny. Except it's still funny. (STL represent.)
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - A dense and brilliantly shot spy thriller that I didn't really get.
There are many movies I still need to see. I have no doubt that A Separation would have placed highly on this list had I seen it. Margaret will likely be a complete masterpiece. We Need To Talk About Kevin would also likely have ranked highly. Here are other movies I am looking forward to from this year:
Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (Is this 2010 or 2011?)
An addendum (6/24/2012): It seems worth noting that A Separation was amazing (though perhaps slightly more forgettable than I expected), and We Need To Talk About Kevin was a really pretty mess. However, what's most important to note is that the film Pina is not mentioned anywhere in this post. It is Wim Wender's tribute to choreographer Pina Bausch, and it's enchanting, entrancing, and amazing. It easily would've broken in somewhere in the top 20.
