Top Films of 2012

When attempting to assemble a list of the ten best films of 2012, I realized that, while a great year for foreign cinema, the year overall was incredibly underwhelming. Even if you don’t compare the year to 2011 (one of the greatest years for film in years) it still seems slim. Sure, there were a couple of greats sprinkled throughout those long twelve months, but not the kind of greats one would expect to top a year-end list. Every time I would sit down in the theater during Oscar season, I was hoping that this film, whatever it was, would be the film to improve the year – and more often than not, I came out of the theater disappointed, underwhelmed, or, in one particular case, furious (okay, so maybe I wasn’t seething with anger when I walked out of Les Miserables.)

It’s amusing to look at my ‘most anticipated of 2012‘ list now. One film was delayed to 2013, one film delivered - albeit, in ways I wasn’t quite expecting, and the rest just left me underwhelmed, from varying degrees. Most of the films that ended up on my list were films that, as always with these end-of-year lists, snuck up on me. Truth be told, the last two entries were kind of tossed on. I had to think of which films could fill in the gaps, and these two, while very good, didn’t strike on an initial watch as films I’d be talking about now. I suppose that says something about how grim of a year I thought this really was. All complaining aside, let’s get onto the list.

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10. ParaNorman (dir. Chris Butler, Sam Fell)

For the second year in a row, Pixar’s recent outing doesn’t end up as one of my year-end favorites. Instead, I get a film that snuck up on me entirely with more creativity, delight, and just all-out fun than any other animated picture. I’m usually not won over by claymation films; it’s not so much the animation itself as it’s the material imbedded within it. This was a film that paid homage to a great deal of horror films while still managing to stand on its own with an admirable – although not entirely original – thematic concern.

9. Killer Joe (dir. William Friedkin)

William Friedkin’s Killer Joe is politically incorrect, morally frustrating, and sometimes just cringe-worthy – but I’ll be damned if it’s not a daring piece of cinema. The film went into places that I was not expecting (I don’t think anyone could have claimed they did, unless if they were familiar with the material), and I couldn’t help but grin at the absurdity that was taking place in the final ten minutes. All of these strengths should be bestowed upon one person: Matthew McConaughey. An actor that is known for his accent and ability to not keep his shirt on delivers an impressively nuanced performance. I’ll never think of KFC the same way again.

8. Elena (dir. Andrey Zvyagintsev)

While it may lack the compelling narrative of Andrey Zvyagintsev’s The Return (2003), it makes up for it with a strong lead performance, and a final shot that packs a hefty punch. Just like The Return, the film tends to focus on mundane activities, almost entirely of static shots with little to no editing. It builds and builds, until it reaches a point where you’re so absorbed with the material that you know what’s going to happen but hope it doesn’t. I can’t claim that I understood its cultural undertones because, well, I’m not Russian. That’s besides the point, though. There’s enough to gain for one to consider it worthwhile.

7. Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (dir. Nuri Bilge Ceylan)

This makes Elena‘s minimalism seem amateurish. This is a film that takes its time with everything – and I mean everything. One could easily claim that this material could have been done within the realm of 90 minutes, and they would be right – but then the film wouldn’t work nearly as well as it does. For its snail-like pace and left-and-right detours, it still never manages to build up to a grandiose final act one would expect. It leaves us with a revelation that we must ponder.

6. This is Not a Film (dir. Mojtaba Mirtahmasb, Jafar Panahi)

The premise is simple: A director, Jafar Panahi, is confined to house arrest while he awaits the verdict by the appeals court. While confined to his house, a friend of his documents his nearly every move over the course of the day. What we get from this situation is the psychological study of what a director truly is. Because Panahi is unable by law to film anything, we’re left with an artist stripped away from his passion. It’s fascinating to witness. It’s almost as if Panahi, no matter his limitations, can only view reality in some cinematic way – which makes the situation all the more heartbreaking.

5. The Kid With a Bike (dir. Jean-Pierre Dardenne, Luc Dardenne)

The Dardenne’s The Kid With a Bike is a film that works wonderfully just from its simplicity. It manages to elicit emotions out of the simplest story. You expect the film to go in directions of melodrama, but it never does. The Dardenne’s are aware of this. They are aware of how this story would play out.  It earns every beat without being manipulative.

4. The Master (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson)

Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master has the commonality with the rest of his films (There Will Be Blood being the exception): it centers on a protagonist trying to make a connection. Yet besides a similar theme, the film manages to set itself apart from the rest of Anderson’s work by being surprisingly dense. It isn’t a rewarding film by any means; the last couple of scenes are ambiguous to say the least. It’s a film that begs for repeated viewings, and even more-so, begs for close examination of Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix, who gives what is undoubtedly the finest performance of the year.)

3. Holy Motors (dir. Leos Carax)

Abstract to its core, Leox Carax’s Holy Motors is an enigma. An enigma that leaves very little room for answers. It’s a film that defines cinema; going through the very nature of genre, creativity, acting, and technology. It’s about what cinema is and what it isn’t. Is it hinting at the death of cinema? Is it merely trying to breathe life into cinema? It very well may be both. It will frustrate, make you hum a little tune, offer a deal of pathos – sometimes all at the same time. It’s one of the most refreshing films in quite some time. Showcasing a filmmaker being as creative as he can be, and that’s something to be admired.

2. Zero Dark Thirty (dir. Kathryn Bigelow)

The best directed film of the year is a film that mostly relies on procedural-esque dialogue. As incredible as the sudden moments of action and the raid are, I find the film to be most compelling when it focuses on the actual investigation.  It’s all paced perfectly, from the constant frustration and dead-ends to a final shot that sums of the film in a nutshell. The narrative is held together by Maya (the incredible Jessica Chastain), a woman that has only one person in mind. Ignore the overblown controversy and focus on the masterful filmmaking at hand.

1. Moonrise Kingdom (dir. Wes Anderson)

I debated around for a bit if Zero Dark Thirty deserved this position. I fully acknowledge that, for the most part, it is a better piece of filmmaking. My heart, however, can’t help but lean heavily towards Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom, a film that I can say I truly love. Anderson’s idiosyncrasies mesh with the material perfectly. None of it comes off awkward or stiff, like Anderson’s outings tend to be (as of late, at least.) The focus on two lovestruck pre-teens brings a deal of heart that is almost overwhelming, as does the choice of handheld. It brings us back to a time that anyone can relate to, except it goes past the point that every child pondered, into directions that only Anderson could imagine.

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There we go. Maybe I’ll stumble upon a couple of other 2012 films that will shape this list into something greater than it should be (Tabu perhaps?) We shall see.

Thoughts on the 2013 Academy Award nominations

What better time to come out of a hiatus than during Oscar season? Okay, so maybe my returning post could have been a little less predictable. At least it wasn’t a best-of year list (we’ll get to that soon enough.) All that aside, let’s get to those nominees.

Best Picture
Amour
Argo
Beasts of the Southern Wild
Django Unchained
Les Misérables
Life of Pi
Lincoln
Silver Linings Playbook
Zero Dark Thirty

Aside from Amour, there isn’t much of a surprise here. Sure, I was hoping that The Master would land a nomination, but it’s far too polarizing, even for a Paul Thomas Anderson film, to be in this category. Also expected, Moonrise Kingdom was unfortunately snubbed. Not a fan of Wes, eh?

Best Director
Michael Haneke, Amour
Ang Lee, Life of Pi
Steven Spielberg, Lincoln
David O Russell, Silver Linings Playbook
Ben Zeitlin, Beasts of the Southern Wild

This category is just baffling. Kathryn Bigelow, who was thought to be a shoe-in for a win, was snubbed. One could make an argument that Hooper, Affleck, and (to a lesser extent) Tarantino were snubbed, but I can’t say I would be apart of that argument. I was somewhat pleased that they weren’t nominated, honestly. Still, the DGA nominations are usually a good predictor of what’s to come. I suppose they wanted to shake things up a bit – and they really shook things up.

Best Actor
Bradley Cooper, Silver Linings Playbook
Daniel Day-Lewis, Lincoln
Hugh Jackman, Les Misérables
Denzel Washington, Flight
Joaquin Phoenix, The Master

Fact: I was going to skip watching the Awards this time around if Phoenix was snubbed. Thankfully, his big mouth didn’t shut him out. Not a particularly surprising category.

Best Actress
Jessica Chastain, Zero Dark Thirty
Jennifer Lawrence, Silver Linings Playbook
Quvenzhane Wallis, Beasts of the Southern Wild
Emmanuelle Riva, Amour
Naomi Watts, The Impossible

Quvenzhane Wallis shouldn’t have been nominated. Her performance benefited with sharp editing. Sorry, I had to get that out. I still need to see Amour. It is nice that a legend such as Riva landed a nod. I’m usually a fan of Watts, but I was left unimpressed with her performance. I would rather have seen Weisz get a nomination for The Deep Blue Sea, but we know that wasn’t going to happen.

Best Supporting Actor
Robert De Niro, Silver Linings Playbook
Philip Seymour Hoffman, The Master
Alan Arkin, Argo
Tommy Lee Jones, Lincoln
Christoph Waltz, Django Unchained

Yes, De Niro can still act. Does that mean he’s still award worthy? No. Frankly, I would have replaced him or Arkin (why he, out of everyone in Argo, has gotten the most buzz is beyond me) with Dicaprio for Django Unchained.

Best Supporting Actress
Amy Adams, The Master
Sally Field, Lincoln
Anne Hathaway, Les Misérables
Helen Hunt, The Sessions
Jackie Weaver, Silver Linings Playbook

Congratulations, Harvey Weinstein. Your checks are going out to the right people. You managed to land Jackie Weaver, an actor who was fine at best, a nomination. You got every acting category down. Even for a man of your.. stature, that is impressive. Pleased that Amy Adams got a nomination.

Best Adapted Screenplay
Beasts of the Southern Wild
Lincoln
Life of Pi
Argo
Silver Linings Playbook

A safe category. The big surprise is, yet again, Beast of the Southern Wild.

Best Original Screenplay
Amour
Django Unchained
Moonrise Kingdom
Zero Dark Thirty
Flight 

Amour is the surprise here. It’s crazy that a foreign film got this much recognition in numerous major categories. Very pleased that Moonrise Kingdom got some recognition.

Foreign Language Film
Amour, Austroa
No, Chile
War Witch, Canada
A Royal Affair, Denkar
Kon-Tiki, Norway

Amour is as big of a lock as A Separation was last year.

Best Cinematography
Anna Karenina 
Django Unchained
Skyfall
Lincoln
Life of Pi

I realize it’s not for everyone, but I find it hard to argue against the camera-work in The Master. Maybe Deakins will finally win this year – or maybe Lincoln will sweep.

Animated Feature Film

Paranorman
Wreck-It Wralph
The Pirates! Band of Misfits
Frankenweenie
Brave

Paranorman was nominated. That’s all I was hoping for.

Some pleasant surprises, some not so pleasant surprises. Zero Dark Thirty is no longer a lock. Hell, it’s pretty much out of the race altogether. It essentially boils down to Lincoln, The Life of Pie, and Silver Linings Playbook. Given that Weinstein and Spielberg are apart of these films, I’m going to say it will be a battle between Lincoln and Silvering Linings Playbook. It’s going to be the 71st Academy Awards all over again.

A.I. Artificial Intelligence (dir. Steven Spielberg – 2001)

The production history for A.I (2001) is a notorious one. Stanley Kubrick had created a story that revolved around artificial intelligence. The film was put on the hold for decades, going through various changes in its story, all due to the fact that Kubrick didn’t believe the technology at the time was sufficient enough to convincingly portray artificial intelligence. The production became more certain once Kubrick witnessed the technology displayed in Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park (1993). After Kurbick’s death in 1999, Spielberg, who was previously attached as producer of the film, immediately dropped every project he had on the line to direct the film.

Set sometime in the future, the production of a new form of humanoids has begun. They’re capable of displaying affection, emotion and love. Monica (Frances O’Connor) and Henry (Sam Robards) are parents of a child that is in a comatose state. After Henry brings home David (Haley Joel Osmond), a humanoid that looks exactly like a young little boy, as a temporary replacement for their son, Monica reacts in disgust. She insists that he’s not human, that he can’t replace her son who has blood with a “boy” that is created on a whim. As time goes by, she develops an bond with David, much more-so than Henry. But something unexpected happens: their biological son Martin (Jake Tomas) is alive and well. This is where the family drama comes into play. Martin holds a sense of hostility towards David, acting in ways young brothers do – but David has no sense of human interaction. He gets tricked into doing unethical acts, even if there’s just a spark of doubt beneath that blank exterior, all at the expense of David’s pleasure. When David’s life becomes threatened by a misunderstanding, Monica makes the unfortunate decision to drive David out to the woods and abandon him. The rest of the film is essentially a tale of Pinocchio; a quest to find a figure known as “the Blue Fairy,” who can grant any wish imaginable (in David’s case, it’s to “be a real boy.”)

The film’s narrative structure sounds ambitious on paper, at least for the standard Spielberg has set for himself, but its ambition is muddled with trite ideas that never amount to a coherent piece. There are interesting ideas presented, such as the bond between a hotshot humanoid Gigolo Joe (Jude Law) and David, but it never results to anything substantial. Every detour the film takes after David’s departure feels trivial; the flesh fair is transparent, the on-the-run Gigolo feels like an excuse for Spielberg to show off yet another set-piece, etc.

Yet while the back half of the picture is a failure, the first half can be labeled as something of an accomplishment. Indeed, David and Monica’s bond is almost a complete success (it would be a complete success were it not for the fact that Henry is merely used as a plot device.) The relationship established between the two is gradual. Even on its simplistic terms, there’s something to admire. Once Monica abandons David, the film never seizes to rid of the underlying melancholy prevalent through every frame. When David is sitting on a crumbled up building in a flooded New York City, the question that comes to one’s mind is: What is his mother doing? Is she suffering from guilt? Is she wondering what her little boy is up to? Does she even care?

At the end of the film, David is in a capsule with his robotic bear, miles below the sea, face to face with the Blue Fairy, wishing that he was a real boy. The camera pans out as a fairytale-esque narration kicks in. End. Wait, that’s not it, flash-forward 2000 years later to a frozen David, the Blue Fairy in place, and aliens – that’s right, aliens. The aliens manage to take David back to the Swinton house, but there’s a problem: it’s empty. Everyone’s gone. The alien informs David that the only way he could possibly interact with his mother again is if he had some form of her DNA. Surprise, Teddy managed to get his hands on – and keep – a lock of Monica’s hair when David cut it 2000 years ago. David gets to live one last day with his mother. It’s a remarkably emotional moment, all due to the fact that the first half works. Its emotional success doesn’t make its contrived, sentimental scenario any less superflous.

Spielberg once said that he doesn’t have a distinct style, that he adapts to the screenplay’s mood. This is alarmingly true in A.I. But is that something to scoff at? In this case, I’m indifferent. I’m not going to deny the fact that it is endlessly fascinating to watch Spielberg attempt to make a Kubrick film. There are Kubrick-esque moments that succeed in their aesthetic but fail in their tone due to Spielberg’s sensibilities seeping through every now and then. I’m also not going to deny that the film would have almost certainly been a better, albeit entirely different, picture had Kubrick directed it. Therein lies the problem, though: even if Spielberg hadn’t directed the film, it still would have been under great scrutiny with skewed expectations, all because of the simple fact that Kubrick’s name was once attached to it.

Prometheus (dir. Ridley Scott – 2012)

I would say Ridley Scott’s return to sci-fi is a disappointing effort, but that would imply that I had some anticipation going in. Sure, the trailers were grandiose, but every time any anticipation built, a voice in the back of my head would chime in: “Ridley Scott.” I’m under the firm belief that the last great film he made was thirty years ago. Ever since he departed the genre he excelled well with, his films have been rather dull (I don’t think I’ll ever understand the enthusiasm for Gladiator (2000)), and some have been flat-out bad (Does anyone remember A Good Year (2007)?) The contradictory claims that Prometheus is a prequel to Alien (1979) left me skeptical. It came off as an attempt to milk Scott’s long awaited return to the genre.

The story is about as conventional as it gets. A crew in space are on route towards a location that they believe has a life form of some nature. This theory comes from the fact that two of the crew members, Elizabeth (Noomi Rapace) and Charlie (Logan Marshall-Green), happened to spot a few cave drawings that hinted at a location in space. It’s antithetical for scientists to use these drawings as something concrete. By the time they land on the planet, an exploration is initiated, mythical figures are found, and people are killed.

The characters are fairly one-dimensional. The film tries to characterize them into something smarter than they are, but that characterization is bogged down as the plot progresses. They behave in the most irrational manor that they come off as characters stripped from a Friday the 13th film. At one point during the film, two characters decide to be rebellious and stumble off from the group. It’s not difficult to predict this outcome. Not even our protagonist is smart enough to know that, even though you’re able to breathe on a planet you’re completely unfamiliar with, you should still keep your helmet on. The improper characterization becomes frustrating to the most aggravating point (the prime example is probably when one of the people that stumbles off walks towards an alien as if it were a newborn puppy.)

The inherent flaw with the film is the script. It attempts to give the film a subtext that comes off as sloppy and shallow. There are sporadic moments where we’re reminded that Elizabeth is a woman of faith. She has a cross around her neck and stands by everything. This would be a fine trait if it weren’t for the fact that it has become such a predictable one in the genre. The arc of the story will test her. It’s routine material. I suppose the blame should go towards Damon Lindelof, as he is known for this method of writing.

Prometheus is a sci-fi film that lacks ambition. It pulls conventions from both the sci-fi and horror genre. We get the standard expository first act, the realization of something more in the second, and then the typical slasher final act (think Sunshine (2007)). There are parallels towards Alien; most of it feeling forced (the last scene is completely unnecessary.) The focus is geared towards the mythology rather than characterization and plot. Does the film succeed in anything? Rapace, who is always a unique presence, does what she can with the material. It certainly succeeds in its set design, a quality Scott has almost always excelled in. It’s unfortunate that the aesthetic is accompanied by a script that feels like a rough draft.

Caché (dir. Michael Haneke – 2005)

Michael Haneke’s Caché (2005) opens with a static shot of a residential area in Paris, France. We’re not sure what we should be focusing on; the camera doesn’t make it a point to clue in the viewer on anything in the frame. Cars are passing the road, people walk by, and a woman leaves her house. Suddenly, what we’re watching begins to rewind. Our perceptions have been altered; what we were watching wasn’t apart of the film, like one would assume – it was, in fact, a married couple viewing a video tape that was recorded outside of their house. The tape was left outside of their house without any indication of who was behind the act. These first few minutes sum up the entire approach Haneke is taking.

The tapes continue to arrive anonymously, with drawings that look as if a child was behind them. One of the tapes is a brief clip of an enormous house. This house was the childhood home of Georges (Daniel Auteuil), a talk-show host. Another tape consists of a camera positioned in car, recording a drive down a seemingly random street. The camera then cuts to a hallway in an apartment complex. It gradually makes its way down the hall, positioning itself on an apartment door. Georges manges to freeze-frame the footage in order to make out the the street-name. He thinks he knows who did it. Anne (Juliette Binoche), the wife of Georges, demands him to let her know. She’s frightened by the fact that someone – anyone – is recording them. She takes them as threats. He, frustratingly, refuses to let her in, claiming “it’s just a hunch.”

I feel as if I shouldn’t spoil who is in this apartment, but on the other hand I feel like I should. The first reason being, this film is seven years old. This is not a new release, and, quite frankly, the film’s strengths don’t lie in the identity of this person. The second reason being, it’s rather difficult to delve into the film’s themes without spoiling who this person is. It should be noted that the resident of the apartment may or may not be the person that sent the tapes/drawings. Georges manages to find this little flat. The resident of the apartment is a person that recognizes Georges immediately. His reaction is a surprising one. Georges’ initial reaction is a mystery; he doesn’t know who this person is, though he gradually realizes his identity. The resident is Majid (Maurice Bénichou), an Algerian man who grew up with Georges. Majid’s parents were friends with Georges’ parents. They were killed in the massacre during the Algerian war, thus forcing Majid to live with Georges for the time being. Majid insists that he wasn’t the one to send these letters/drawings.

After Anne receives a video of Georges threatening Majid in his apartment, she questions why he lied. Why did he tell her that no one was in the apartment? Georges’ childhood is explained to Anne. Throughout the film, we see random intercuts of a boy coughing up blood and a boy chopping a chicken’s head off with an axe, watching it flail about headless, then swinging the axe towards another boy. He tells Anne that he was miserable with Majid as a child. His parents suddenly focus their attention on Majid. He tells his parents that he witnessed Majid cough up blood; he insists that he’s not safe around him. His parents don’t buy it. He then tells Majid that his parents want him to kill an infected chicken. Majid kills the chicken, the parents find out, and Georges gets his way; the boy is sent away to an orphanage. His defense of his actions is simple: “I was six years old.” He believes that Majid is the guilty one here – he thinks Majid is the one responsible for the threats. Anne doesn’t buy it; judging from Majid’s reaction in the recorded video, she believes he’s being sincere.

There are no fade-ins to the boy coughing up blood or the chicken’s head getting chopped off. We aren’t sure, at the time, how this footage relates to the conflict at hand. Both scenes resemble the simplistic drawings that accompany the tapes: a chicken with its neck crunched and a boy with a stream of blood pouring out of his mouth. We know the person behind these tapes has knowledge of Georges and Majid’s past. The second scene, however, strays away from George’s explanation to his wife, partly because it’s one of George’s nightmares; a clear sign of guilt. Haneke also makes these scenes  ambiguous. It’s never clear if these scenes are apart of a memory or imagination, or, if they did indeed happen, who exactly is the child to cut off the chicken’s head. Was it Georges, not Majid? We have no reason to believe Georges, the narrator in these events to Anne, is a reliable one. Even during a vital scene towards the end, it still still isn’t clear which kid is who.

The approach to filmmaking is minimalistic, and that’s putting it lightly. Most of the shots are composed of static shots, with little to no cuts. When the married couple is having dinner, the camera merely stays in one location, examining every detail of the process. This would be a rather tiresome approach if weren’t for the fact that Daniel Auteuil and Juliette Binoche are so confident in their roles that they make give these static, plain shots an unbearable amount of tension. This shouldn’t work.

The film’s story is an allegory to the conflicts between the French and the Algerians during the Algerian war. This allegory does not come off heavy-handed. There’s one scene in particular that explains this message well. Georges is confronted by someone (not going to reveal who) in a bathroom. I’m not going to go into detail during this scene, as it can ruin one of the most shocking scenes I’ve seen in film. I will say, however, that one must pay close attention to this scene: take note of the way Haneke films this, and how it separates itself from the filmmaking methods found throughout the rest of the film. There’s a difference, and it’s there for a reason.

The relationship between Georges and Anne is kind of brushed under the bigger picture, but it’s something that should be examined. The relationship is a hostile one. There tends to be deceit between the two, more-so from the husband than the wife (Georges lying about the apartment, confiding to his mother instead of her, etc.) There’s a resentment towards Georges. Even after a horrifying incident occurs, Anne still finds the need to be forward with Georges, showing not the kind of respect one would expect. Another plot-line that doesn’t seem to care about answers is one that involves Anne and her friends. The son (Lester Makedonsky) brings up the allegation that Anne is involved in an affair. There isn’t much to support this allegation prior to this scene, and only one subtle scene that follows brushes upon it.

This isn’t a film that focuses on its answers. It’s a film that must be discussed.   While the film can be deciphered as an allegory to the Algerian war, the more prominent theme of the film, one that has a greater depth to it, is guilt (Haneke himself said he had no knowledge of this incident until two years prior to filming.) It’s about a man living in a life of financial luxury, only to be reminded of what his actions as a child led to. He will no longer live a life free of guilt. His past has come back to haunt him, in a way only Haneke could express. Should he feel guilty for his actions at such a young age? He had no idea that these fleeting moments would lead to something bigger. The film’s biggest mystery, the person responsible for the tapes, isn’t an important one. What matters is what the tapes bring about. Examine the final static shot closely; it took me two times to notice something substantial.

Top 10 Most Anticipated of 2012

Boredom strikes and the urge to make another list rears its ugly head yet again. I figured I would compile a list of my most anticipated films of the year. It seems like a rather promising year, more-so than last year. Terrence Malick’s untitled film and Kar Wai Wong’s The Grandmasters  were omitted due to their sketchy release schedule. Had there been a confirmed date for either film, they would have been on the list.

It was hard to narrow down the list of films I’m anticipating to ten, so, of course, some films didn’t make the cut. Ridley Scott’s Prometheus (2011), Derek Cianfrance’s The Place Beyond the Pines (2011), Rian Johnson’s Looper (2011), and many other films, didn’t make the list.

10. Mud (dir. Jeff Nichols)

Okay, so I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of Matthew McConaughey being the lead in Jeff Nichols’ third film. But it’s Jeff Nichols, one of the greatest young directors around. Michael Shannon teaming up with Nichols, even though it’s a supporting role, for the third time just sweetens the pot. I heard Nichols say in an interview that this is the film he has always wanted to make. It has been in his pocket for over ten years. It’s in the main competition at this year’s Cannes, which means there should be a release sometime in the Fall.

9. Seven Psychopaths (dir. Martin McDonagh)

The director of In Bruges (2008) reteams with Colin Ferrel in another dark comedy. Woody Harrelson, Sam Rockwell, Abbie Cornish, and Christopher Walken are there as well. Need I say more?

8. Rust and Bone (dir. Jacques Audiard)

I have no idea what’s going on in the french trailer for Rust and Bone. Something about a whale, a melancholic Marion Cotillard, and a very wet t-shirt. This should fancy any cinephile’s taste. But we’re talking about a film from the director of what I thought was the best film of 2009. Now, if we could only get a proper english trailer.

7. Beasts of the Southern Wild (dir. Benh Zeitlin)

I had heard an overwhelming amount of positive response over this during Sudance – then it won the top prize. Even though the films that come out of Sundance tend to be hit-and-miss, I was interested. After watching the recent trailer, my interest skyrocketed. It looks like a mix between a Malick film and Pan’s Labyrinth – in other words, it looks like a film that caters to my taste on every level.

6. Brave (dir. Mark Andrews)

I think this will be it. This will be the film to bring back Pixar to their former glory. After the critical flop that was Cars 2, they’re returning to (what looks like) their creative roots. This prediction may seem off base when talking about the American trailers, but the Japanese trailer is just so utterly fantastic that it makes it look like a completely different film. The Miyazaki influence is strong, more-so than any other Pixar project.

5. Lawless (dir. John Hillcoat)

Yes, the only trailer released for Lawless was poorly put together. It made the film look like pure cheese, which is the last thing I would expect from Hillcoat, and Shia Labeouf looks like he’s trying to be Jimmy from Boardwalk Empire. But damnit, I can’t help but get excited over this one. Hillcoat directing a crime-drama starring Gary Oldman, Jessica Chastain, Guy Pearce, and Tom Hardy. That is one damn fine ensemble.

4. Cosmopolis (dir. David Cronenberg)

David Cronenberg is returning to his roots – and when I say returning to his roots, I really mean it. The idea of Robert Pattinson starring in this kind of universe is rather exciting. This is his chance. It will either be a disastrous casting decision or a genius one. I have enough faith in Cronenberg to believe that this was the right decision. Plus, you know, there are giant rats roaming about in New York City.

3. The Hobbit (dir. Peter Jackson)

I had so much anticipation for Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit after seeing the trailer that I watched the extended edition of the trilogy over the following three days. Just seeing Gandalf grace his presence in The Shire one last time was enough for me to return to the trilogy. Early negative word on the 48-frames-per-second be damned. Martin Freeman as Bilbo Baggins is perfect casting.

2. Killing them Softly (dir. Andrew Dominik)

2007 was one of the best years for film. One of the biggest highlights was Andrew Dominik’s The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007). It was a film that had an undeniable influence from Malick, yet managed to have a voice of its own. His follow-up is a crime-drama starring Brad Pitt, James Gandolfini, Ray Liotta, and Richard Jenkins. If he can maintain the unique vision he displayed in his 2007 film, then we’re in for a real treat. If only they had stuck with the original title, Cogan’s Trade.

1. The Master (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson)

Five years later and we finally have a follow up to There Will Be Blood (2007). There isn’t much known about the film; it was shot in 70mm, it centers on a faith-based organization, and it has more Hoffman. That’s enough to get me jazzed, but nearly all of my anticipation stems from the fact that this is a Paul Thomas Anderson film. Will he be able to top his masterpiece? Will the five year wait be worth it? Only time will tell, but it’s most certainly at the top of my must-see list.

As you can probably tell, most of my anticipation stems from who is directing what. With the exception of The Hobbit, little of my interest lies in plot. Of course, these lists are basically arbitrary, and by the time the end of the year comes and I compile a list of my favorite films of the year, most of these films might not even end up on it. If I had made this list last year, Take Shelter (2011), A Separation (2011), and Certified Copy (2011) wouldn’t have been on there. But these things are fun to make.. right?

Ebertfest 2012

I have never attended a film festival before. I live in a fairly small town that isn’t anywhere close to a note-worthy film festival. I’ve always had the desire to go to one. Just the general idea of screening films all day long, with people involved with each film there in person to do a Q&A, was exciting. So when my friend asked if I would like to attend Ebertfest with him, I immediately jumped on it.

There are numerous reasons for this rash decision. At the time, way back in November, the line-up had not been announced. Festival passes were on sale. So the thing was kind of a gamble, although after looking over the previous year’s line-ups, I figured it was a rather safe bet. The idea of going to the festival with a close friend – who happens to be a movie lover as well – just sweetened the deal.

March rolls around, the line-up is announced and I couldn’t have been more pleased. Citizen Kane (1941) with Roger Ebert’s commentary; A Separation (2011) with the possibility of the director attending; Take Shelter (2011) with both Jeff Nichols and Michael Shannon; Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949) with Patton Oswalt. These were the films that stood out to me the most. With the exception of Big Fan (2009) and Joe vs. the Volcano (1990), I hadn’t heard of any of the other films. Some of them intrigued me, but I didn’t look into them enough for me to gain any type of anticipation. Besides, that’s the point of this festival, isn’t it? The titles are, after all, selected by the man himself, titles that he thinks deserves more recognition.

Day one: We’re settled into our hotel and ready for the first film of the festival. We arrived about an hour early and were shocked to find out that a line (seen above) had formed for Joe vs. the Volcano. I wasn’t expecting a huge turn out for a film that was considered a flop upon release. It was a sign of what was to come. So we waited for a good forty minutes, doors opened, and we made our way up to the balcony (we decided beforehand that the balcony would be our preferred seating area.)

It’s impossible to do the Virginia Theater justice. It seats (I believe) 1500 people, boasts a gigantic screen, and a section for an orchestra. That sounds great on paper, but what really made the theater was the look of it. The walls were high, the paint was peeling, and the seats were noisy. It had character.

Out comes Chaz Ebert to introduce the 14th annual Ebertfest. Roger Ebert was feeling ill, so his greeting was rather short. The curtains open and the film begins. I don’t even know where to begin with this one. It was not at all what I was expecting. I had seen the other two collaborations between Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, although I suppose I should have adjusted my expectations a tad, as this film wasn’t directed by Nora Ephron. I’m not sure if I’d call it a good film. I do admire it to a degree. I admire that Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan did a film like this, admire the look of the film, and I kind of admire the campiness of it all. The special guest for the film was Stephen Goldblatt, the DP of the film. The Q&A with him was more interesting than the actual film. Following the film was The Truth About Beauty and Blogs (2011), a short film that I really didn’t care for. Following that fifteen-minute short was Phunny Business: A Black Comedy (2011). I knew nothing about this film going in. I was assuming from the title that it would be focused on a black comedian. What I got was a really good documentary on an entrepreneur that created one of the most popular, star-studded comedy clubs in Chicago.

Day two: We were a little smarter the following day. We decided to get there about an hour and fifteen minutes earlier. The line was even longer. The first film was Big Fan, a film I had never seen because, well, I didn’t have much of a desire to see it. It was a solid film with a really good performance from Patton Oswalt. Unfortunately, Oswalt couldn’t make it, which meant two things: Kind Hearts and Coronets screening was cancelled and no Q&A with him. However, Robert D. Siegel, the director of the film, was there to do the Q&A. Kinywarwanda (2011) followed. I was aware of the general synopsis of the film. What I wasn’t prepared for was its non-linear narrative structure, which, unfortunately, lessened the film for me. We were so starving by the end of the film that we left as soon as it ended, missing the Q&A. Because Kind Hearts and Coronets was cancelled, we had the night to ourselves. Luck was on our side; the 70th anniversary restoration of Casablanca (1942) was screening for one time only. It was glorious.

Day three: I believe the line was even longer this day. On Borrowed Time (2011) started the day. A documentary on a filmmaker, Paul Cox, who has been diagnosed with liver cancer. The film recalls his life and his passion for film. I’m ashamed to admit that I had never heard of Cox before (get on it, Criterion!) The Q&A was a profound session with Cox himself. The second showing was one I had been waiting for: Wild and Weird. Ten short films from the silent era accompanied by the Alloy Orchestra. All I wanted after it ended was for them to screen Metropolis (1927), with the orchestra showing off their creative energy in the grandest fashion. A Separation was the film to end the night. This was the first time I had seen the theater completely full. Now, I had seen the film three times prior to the viewing, so I wasn’t anticipating it as greatly as other films. I was, however, looking forward for Andy to see it. Thankfully, he loved it – in fact, it was his favorite film of the festival. Unfortunately, there was another no-show. The Q&A wasn’t set in stone, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain too much, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed that Asghar Farhadi didn’t show up.

Day four: This was the last full day at Ebertfest. Higher Ground (2011) was the first film. I knew nothing about this film other than the fact that Vera Fermiga directed it. A rather impressive directorial debut – and performance – from Fermiga. It felt about fifteen minutes too long and some of it was too on-the-head, but there are still admirable qualities to be found. The second film of the day, Patang (The Kite) (2011), was a visual feast. I do admit that the film tested my patience, though that could be due to the fact that I was, of course, starving. The following film was the film I had been waiting for: Take Shelter. I had seen the film once back in November and was immensely impressed by it – so much so that I decided to check out Jeff Nichols’ first feature, Shotgun Stories (a film I strongly urge you to seek out.) The Q&A followed with Jeff Nichols, Michael Shannon, and the Sony Pictures Classics head. This was, hands down, the best Q&A of them all. It’s easy to see why Nichols and Shannon enjoy working with one another so much. They seem to understand each other, both on a professional and personal level. As serious as the man can be, Shannon is a really funny guy. After the informative Q&A, we decided to wait at the theater. Being the big fans of Shannon that we are, we wanted to meet him. There were a group of people huddled around a door, so we decided to wait there. Twenty minutes pass and he appears. Signs a few autographs, takes a few pictures, then leaves the building. The guy was incredibly gracious, so much so that he took even more pictures outside. A woman grabs my phone, Andy and I stand next to him, and a picture is taken. It seems like a blur now, but I could not have been more nervous. I was literally shaking afterwards. A pathetic show.

Day five: The final day ends with Citizen Kane (1941). This was a special screening. The screening features Roger Ebert’s famous commentary for the film. The reason for this is so the Virginia Theater could hear Roger’s voice one last time. So there we sat, in what I think was a completely full theater, watching Citizen Kane in a completely different light. I had never listened to his commentary before (contemplated it several times.) The commentary was remarkable. You haven’t seen Citizen Kane until you’ve seen it with Roger’s commentary.

There’s one occurrence that I feel I must mention. On Saturday, I spotted Roger Ebert. He was on the first floor, sitting in an area that looked as if it were designed for him. I immediately went into the gift shop to pick up one his books to get signed (ended up getting Scorsese: By Ebert.) Just like Andy, who had met Roger at a book signing months ago, I froze. I had no idea what to say to the man. I have been watching/reading his reviews for ten years. I still watch his reviews. And there he was, sitting in front of me. It was surreal.

What a joy. Being surrounded by (mostly) cinephiles. Wake up, watch films all day, go to sleep. Sure, I had a few complaints (you would think that people who are attending a film festival would remember to silence their phones.) If only it had lasted longer. It’s very doubtful at the moment, but if the two of us are willing to spend the time and the money, Telluride here we come. Again, that was just small talk we had in the theater to pass the time.

Until next year..