My jaw dropped. I stared in total dismay and disbelief. The previous day, after watching Close Encounters on the big screen in seamless blu-ray and high-definition sound, I had left the building skipping and whistling John William’s five-note theme with a giant, foolish grin on my face, thanking the movie gods that today we got to watch a FUN movie. Not a brilliant movie, not an important movie, certainly not “the best movie ever made,” but a fun movie. I will say it loud and proud: I love Lucas and Company. I love 70s and 80s blockbusters. And I love, love, love, alien movies. As this violent abuse of Spielberg’s film continued, I became more and more convinced that perhaps I myself was an alien among my classmates until one of my comrades in geekiness spoke up.”Of course the science was weak,” my knight-in-shining-logic exclaimed. “Have you seen Jurassic Park?” It’s not about the science, it’s not about the musical tones, it’s not even really about aliens. It’s about communication and harmony. No one cares that the humans don’t know exactly what they’re saying to the aliens. It’s about a brief moment of seeing beyond oneself and that we’re all alike in some universal way.” As soon as he finished speaking, my faith in humanity was instantly restored. The reason I quote (and probably greatly paraphrase) him is because I couldn’t have made the point better myself. Not only that, but it reminded why I love, and have always loved, alien movies. I think there is other life in the universe. I’ve believed that ever since I was a child, intrigued by NASA, the Space Race, and SETI (The Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence).

If you can discount Richard Dreyfuss’s over the top acting (and why should you? It’s part of what makes the film a comic ride), and the slightly less than Avatar quality special effects, Spielberg’s film is one of great heart and a spirit of harmony. The visitors in Close Encounters are benign, curious, creatures who seek only to invite humanity to participate in one of the greatest conversations in Earth’s history. Spielberg gets that extra-terrestrial life is one source of childhood wonder: something to believe in besides Santa Claus and the Loch Ness monster…and a something, that while we haven’t found it yet, could actually be real. He portrays this through the enchanting, tear-inspiring eyes of the superlatively adorable blonde, messy-haired toddler plays who Barry, the boy picked up (and safely returned) by the giant UFO. Spielberg saves the greatest punch of wonder for the last thirty minutes of the film. By the time the glittering mothership has landed on Devils Thumb, Wyoming, my intake of breath was as sharp as any of the film’s protagonists. Against a sweeping background of stars, the spacecraft appears (flashing colored lights and blaring a series of musical tones) in a whimsical dance of courtship with the awestruck crowd.  John William’s score adds to the (for lack of a better word) epic-ness of the moment.

Benign alien movies (the greatest example being 1999′s Contact starring Jodie Foster), are never just about visits from another planet. The deeper messages are often spiritual in nature. Contact with E.T. represents a moment so unprecedented that it unites humanity under one banner, erasing national conflicts and violent bloodbaths with the humbling recognition that we are not alone in the universe. As a young girl obsessed with NASA, I never had a doubt that someday we would discover life on other worlds, even if it took an exponential number of generations to do so. With all of our technology and ingenuity, I hoped that we would find the capability to travel to other worlds. Clearly, with the economic crisis and the national defense budget, no one gives a flying UFO about NASA anymore. Many argue that our resources are better spent on the many problems that plague our own little world. What I would offer in return is this: what if on our journey into outer space, we discover a better way to live? Be it through research, medical advances that can be studied in space, or the discovery of more advanced species, what if humanity finds a way to be better, to fix the environmental damage that threatens to destroy our Earth, to find ways to live in peace and prosperity? It is that dream, that wonder, that inspires a film like Close Encounters--albeit, clearly a children’s film, and as mainstream a blockbuster as they come. They may be nerds, but Spielberg and Lucas both get the appeal of a universe that’s just a little more crowded. Does that make them auteurs? Maybe not. But it does make them great storytellers because they have happened upon a basic human desire–to be connected. To be understood. In Contact, the alien being offers these words: “You’re an interesting species. An interesting mix. You’re capable of such beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares. You feel so lost, so cut-off, so alone, only you’re not. You see, in all our searches, the only thing we’ve discovered that makes the loneliness more bearable…is each other.” And perhaps a few little green men.

Terrence Malick’s Days of Heaven is an astoundingly visual and plaintive exploration of themes both universal and specific to America at the cusp of the 1920’s. In contrast to other classic American films such as Bonnie and Clyde, Heaven is not an overglamourized, oversexualized vision of Western expansion and the violence that occurred during that period. Rather, it is an exquisitely photographed masterpiece that evokes themes of loss, progress, landscape, and survival. The story is told in an almost non-linear and far reaching narrative that gets subtly lost in the miasma of gleaming magic-hour shots of Texas farmland. In one of my film classes, we drew the parallels to F. Scott Fitzgerald’s literary masterpiece The Great Gatsby. And indeed, this description from the novel could easily depict a scene from the film:

“This is a valley of ashes–a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of gray cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-gray men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from your  sight.”- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, Ch. 2.  The Fitzgerald quote especially describes the beginning of the film when Gere’s character among with the other migrant farmers work the land in preparation for harvest. The people are so small against the vast pastures and sky that the land becomes the most important character in the novel. The film is a constant meditation on nature, from a frost covering the ground, to wind rippling the river, to diaphanous fabric or Brooke Adam’s dress floating in the wind, to the dark and terrifying fire that rages across the plain. A Biblical plague of locusts seems to question whether God or possibly just Nature is in control of the characters lives and suggests that they are subject to the wrath or blessings of the earth they till.

It is Linda Manz’s narration that keeps the viewer grounded, her often-unrelated voiceover carrying the weight of loss and longing, thoughts of the future and fragments of the past. Manz rarely comments or makes any moral judgements on the three adult characters in the film. She instead seems to serve as a symbol of a nomadic child, her innocence shadowed by hard living and a sense that the bonds of family and friendship could be disturbed at any moment by more change and progress.  Malick’s genius is in underscoring the themes of the film with deliberate cutaways, which serve as visual metaphors that speak much louder than the film’s sparse dialogue. When Bill and Abby share a secret, tender moment in the river, Bill drops his wineglass into the water. The cutaway to the wineglass under the water serves as a symbol of the crystalline fragility of the couple’s life and livelihood on the farm. The choice to layer so many levels of visual meaning into each shot is what separates Heaven from other films with similar subject matter.

Malick uses imagery to comment on an era in American history when land still extended beyond the horizon, when there were areas untamed by civilization and in the name of “progress,” and where non-human life flourished in harmony with the human inhabitants. The film incorporates constant cutaways to birds, buffalo, grasshoppers, and growing plants to remind the viewer of a world in balance, an idyllic Eden that no longer exists and cannot be recovered. The film is rife with longing—in Richard Gere or Sam Shepard’s gazes at Brook Adams, or her own gaze across field and sky. Each character has a sense of nostalgia for something not yet gone, and it is this feeling that carries more emotional weight than the melodramatic events of the end of the film.

In his essay on Henry Bosse,  an early American cartographer and photographer, Charles Wherenberg says that Bosse not only captured the Mississippi river as it was in the 1880’s, but was also a “prophecy of the River to come.” Malick’s film has the same effect, but with a modern filmmaker looking back at the fragile, transcendental moment in America when trains and early airplanes connected cities and towns, when the land began to be tamed and overrun with industry, when only the West offered the fading promise of an endless horizon. As Fitzgerald writes, “Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock….his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him.”

The Best and Worst Films of The 00′s:

BEST: Man on Wire. I cannot stop praising this incredible, life-affirming documentary. Phillipe Petit’s story is a combination of heist thriller, spiritual voyage, and breathtaking adventure. The film doesn’t attempt to heal the wounds of 9/11, rather it gives us back a certain cultural memory of the towers. As someone who had never heard of Petit’s high wire adventure, the film resonated on a different level. I understood the towers in a revised symbolic sense: as a representation of the human desire to build and risk in grand gestures of an enterprising spirit. This film has stayed with me more than a year after my initial viewing, and is one film that should be in everyone’s Netflix queue.

WORST: Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. Slow-mo boobs bouncing as Megan Fox runs across the desert (apparently they don’t make bras in Michael Bay Land). Add gaping plot holes, racist robots, and Shia LeBouf’s wooden acting. Stir. Then try to pretend it never happened.

BEST: The Dark Knight. Christopher Nolan brought life and intelligence back into the superhero genre with this Bush-era look at corruption and the morality of vigilantism. Besides Christian Bale’s WTF Batman voice (fun to imitate at parties), the film is an expertly edited and plotted piece with endless moments of (for complete lack of an intellectual-sounding phrase) bad assness. Heath Ledger’s performance will cement The Joker as one of cinema’s best villians, not only due to the performance itself but because of the loss of such potential talent. Add Morgan Freeman (who I am convinced might actually be God…no blasphemy intended) and Michael Caine (if Freeman is God this makes him what…Moses? God’s butler?) and you’ve got an outstanding ensemble cast. The true power (and terror) of the film is that it’s about terrorism itself, in a “fictional” city not far removed from any American metropolis, and with politicians and authority figures equally complex…might we even say two-faced? Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I wonder when the dogs will chase Bruce Wayne/Batman into theaters again?

WORST: Speed Racer. This is the conversation I imagine occured between the Wachowski brothers when deciding to take on this project. Larry: So we made the Matrix. That was sweet. Andy: But how can we possible follow it up? Larry: Let’s set futuristic car races at nauseatingly high speeds, make everything the colors of cotton candy, and then ramp it up on steriods. Andy: Sounds good. But we need a fat younger brother for comic relief. Possibly with monkey. Larry: Definitely a monkey. P.S. A fellow film student and I actually walked out on this movie after about forty-five minutes. Probably should have left after ten, but we paid full price to see it in Imax. I’d take being trapped in The Matrix any day.

BEST: Up. A lot of people will probably be angry at me for not choosing WALL-E. What can I say, I love an underdog! WALL-E was obviously one of the most visually brilliant and innovative piece of mainstream animation to come out of the Pixar Studios. Taking a brave risk with a forty-five minute silent first act, the film also managed to work humor into a terrifying environmental warning. So why choose Up? Three words: First. Fifteen. Minutes. Up was advertised as your typical childrens film. Talking animals, flying houses, a crotchety old man, a bumbling Eagle Scout type: all fairly standard cliches. However, Up had an emotional center and tone that pushed it precipitously into the territory of not being a children’s film. In fact, many of the students I taught this summer didn’t appreciate Up, feeling that it wasn’t aimed at them. I admire Pixar for not condescending to young people: as I found in Where The Wild Things Are, childhood is a complex and dark time of life even in the midst of its apparent simplicity and ease. The fifteen minute’s I’m referring to are a montage of the events in the life of Ellie, adventuress, dreamer, and the elder protagonist’s beloved spouse. From a wild, headstrong young redhead to a beautiful newlywed, to a woman grieving for her inability to have children, the montage takes the audience through Ellie’s life and death. The film goes on to follow Carl and his young friend on a true adventure, a charming story of freedom, loss, and the charge to open one’s heart at any age. But the opening scene, a poignant and simple portrait of a life, has stayed with me far longer than the most adorable and heart-lifting cry of “WALLLLLYYYYYY.”

WORST: Funny People. I’m not one to blindly hate on Judd Apatow movies. I enjoyed Superbad and the 40 Year Old Virgin. Even Knocked Up, while fairly offensive (and also required me to buy that someone as stunning as Katherine Heigl would give Seth Rogen the time of day) had it’s humorous moments. The problem with Funny People is not that its humor is base and misogynistic (which it is). The problem is that it’s not funny. Further, no character in the film experiences a moment of self-awareness or redemption. Some will give me grief for going “all feminist” but I honestly don’t understand the fantasy behind the entire Judd Apatow machine. The fantasy being this: If you are an unambitious, overweight, sexist who abuses substances you will likely end up with an incredibly hot blonde who, for whatever reason, wants nothing more than to have sex with you. I promise you there is no equivalent fantasy for women. Name one film where an overweight (or even average sized) woman who wears sweatpants all the time, has no career, and sits around making jokes about her vagina (No Sex and the City comebacks people!) would land say George Clooney. Or Jude Law. As I watched my parent’s horror at every word coming out of Adam Sandler’s mouth (yes, I watched it with my parents. No, I wouldn’t reccomend it), I realized that perhaps the reason why i’m perpetually single is partly out of my control: These are the movies the boys in my dating pool buy tickets to. I may be in serious trouble here. And no, it’s not funny.

Best: Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. Okay, this one’s a bit unfair, because I don’t really think that the Two Towers is the best out of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy.  Each of Jackson’s films is its own complete, visually stunning and emotionally engaging masterpiece. However, audiences seem to be consistently drawn to the second act of a trilogy, the part where things look very bad for the protagonists. And if you’re a George Lucas or Peter Jackson who has managed to create a brilliant trilogy, the second act is a standout, the location of the deepest emotion and complexity. Two Towers fits the bill. From the multiple plotlines, to Gollum’s conversation with himself, and culminating with the Battle of Helm’s Deep, Towers is the film that probably deserved the Oscar given to the plot heavy, overlong Return of the King (not that i’m complaining). Talk all you want about Avatar, but good old PJ is the one that brought epic filmmaking back into the cinema, and revolutionized digital effects and motion capture.

WORST: Star Wars, Attack of the Clones. Jar-Jar Binks and sad sad animated Yoda. A movie that true Star Wars fans must pretend never happened.

BEST Once. This no-budget Irish musical is a tearjerker for the ages. The music itself is the true love story in the film, as the Girl with the broken vacuum Hoovers her way into the life of the Boy with the guitar. A must see.

In ten words or less:

WORST: The Twilight Saga: New Moon. Emo nightmare that set the feminist movement back several hundred years.

BEST: 500 Days of Summer. Pitch perfect hipster romance that brought new life to the romantic comedy.

WORST: War of the Worlds. Tom Cruise. Dakota Fanning. Tom Cruise singing to Dakota Fanning. Gouge out eyes…

BEST: Brokeback Mountain. Regardless of schlock factor, Jake and Heath create a believable love story in this genre bending, visually stunning meditation on loss and regret.

WORST: Spider Man 3. Umm…Emo Tobey McGuire? Jazz Dancing Tobey McGuire?

BEST: The Reader. Kate Winslet proves she’s the best actress of our generation in this portrait of a complex and tragic heroine.

BEST: Into the Wild. Emile Hirsch gives a breakout performance as a young man attempting to disappear from society, only to find “happiness only meaningful when shared.”

WORST: Angels and Demons. What should have been a great action film destroyed by Tom Hanks’ dry, passionless performance as Robert Langdon. Directed well, Angels could have potentially been one of the greatest thrillers of the decade.

BEST: The New World. Terrence Malick once again demonstrates his unrivaled sense of visual storytelling in this sparse narrative that leaves the spectator room for silence and contemplation.

BEST: The Darjeeling Limited. Wes Anderson at his best. A colorful, hysterical, heart-wrenching portrayal of adult brothers journeying across India to find the one thing they can’t recover…the love and approval of their dysfunctional mother.

BEST: Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. Make fun of me all you want, but don’t forget that Pirates were hot before Vampires, and Johnny created one of the most memorable characters in recent Disney history.

BEST: Milk. Should have won best picture over Slumdog Millionare.

BEST: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Should have won best picture over Slumdog Millionare.

The Best of the Best: Honorable Mentions

The Prestige

Sicko

Spirited Away

Little Miss Sunshine

Pan’s Labryinth

Avatar

1. The Movie. The experience was far less torturous than I expected–more like downright hilarious. The film opens with the dramatic “breakup” of Kristen Stewart’s Bella and Robert Pattison’s Edward. Their pasty, emo, obsessive romance grinds to a halt after vampire brother Jasper tries to attack Lady Juliet after she gets a paper cut at the Vampire Mansion. Edward must leave Bella for her own good. He makes her promise to be safe-a promise we know she’ll break since no teenage girl seems to draw more trouble or get into more life threatening situations than Bella does. Pattison is mostly absent from the remaining 120 minutes of the film–bad for the teenage girls, great for anyone who can’t stand to watch a young actor let his hair do all of the emoting. We are left with Kristen Stewart lying alone in the dark Northwestern woods, covered in mud, unable to so much as return to safety. Stewart mystifies me as an actress. Her sarcastic, punk, one of the guys persona works in comedies (she was bearable in Adventureland), but she is in no way a romantic heroine. Most of her acting involves grimacing or blankly staring. Her portrayal of Bella’s depression, while probably accurate, is uncinematic. She sulks. And sulks. And sulks. Thanks to the intertitles, we know she sulks for months and months. She screams in her sleep–but her baffled single father doesn’t think of taking her to a therapist (her baffled single mother never appears onscreen-In fact all of the events of the Twilight franchise seem to be a result of clueless parents). We soon learn that the only way Bella can “see” Edward is to participate in dangerous and life-threatening activities–approaching sketchy biker dudes at bars, riding motorcycles, and jumping off cliffs. There’s nothing here to appeal to any moviegoer outside of the films’ very specific audience.

A slight relief comes in the form of newcomer Taylor Lautner. As Bella’s new werewolf buddy/Edward’s romantic rival Jacob, Lautner does an admirable job trying to lighten up the unrelenting teen angst. Not to mention, he’s like totally hot and buff, right? So now, the unremarkable and uncharismatic Bella, has not one, but two totally hot supernatural dudes after her. Fans of the series won’t be surprised that she chooses pasty and controlling white boy over warm, funny, and wolfy Native American boy (political and racial parallels aside…not enough room to get into THAT particular allegory). Twilight also gets a few points with the charming Ashleey Greene as the sprightly psychic vampire sister Alice, and Dakota Fanning as creepy vampire princess Jane (Dakota Fanning should really stick to playing villains, the contrast is delightful). From a narrative perspective, the film fails completely. I would say, cut forty five minutes of the sulking and get to the action fast. Drawing out the battle and fast car sequences could potentially have saved this film from utter disaster.  Overall, the film is charmless. The acting is affectless, the cinematography is dark (literally–it’s as obscure and disheartening as the endless rain throughout the film), and their are few moments of intentional humor.

2. Now, on to the part of the review sure to offend and fans of the books/movies. Twilight. I hate to get up an a soapbox, but beneath all of the repressed teenage sexuality and attempts at making an entertaining film, lies a deeply misogynistic, even dangerous undercurrent. From the opening of the movie, we are to take Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet as the canonical representation of true love. Nothing less will suffice. The point is made over and over again that neither Bella or Edward could remain alive if the other one were gone. Edward is controlling, jealous, and protective to the point of being a potential stalker/dictator. He is obsessed with Bella’s purity, “saving her soul” from eternal damnation. Bella is a shell of a person without Edward. She literally is a non-entity when she isn’t in his presence. Even more upsetting is how she reacts when he leaves her. She will do anything to hallucinate hearing his voice, seeing his face. In one disturbing scene, she gets on the back of the motorcycle of some strange guy outside of a bar. He reminds her of a group of guys she ran into in the first Twilight movie, a group who would have raped her if Edward had not mysteriously shown up on his white BMW (er, I mean horse). Her imaginary vamp begs her not to go with the man, but she goes anyway. Fortunately, like all vaguely threatening men who give rides to teenage girls, the friendly creeper turns around and returns her to safety. Bella proceeds to jump off cliffs and ride motorcycles, claiming that jumping into a storm-tossed ocean from a giant cliff face wasn’t suicidal, just “for the rush.” Okay. We can accept her grief. But the worst is yet to come. SHE TAKES HIM BACK! No “you screwed up my life.” No “how dare you break up with me.” Nothing. She vehemently rejects Jacob, the male figure that not only treats her well, but accepts her for who she is and allows her to smile and have fun.  Edward gets no flak for any of his decisions. Only the constant refrain on Bella’s part that she “just doesn’t deserve” Edward. She is never, and will never be good enough for him, and the only thing that brings any redemption is that he chooses her anyway.

This is the cult of “love” that millions of teenage girls have bought into. Obsessive, controlling, dark. Bella is willing to give up her humanity, her family, all other friends, any hope for a future. Yes…let’s tell girls still in the phase of unrequited crushes and awkward prom dates that life is not worth living without a boyfriend. Honestly, that’s what all of this “harmless” entertainment boils down to. As a college student with a fairly solid identity, I could laugh this off as entertainment. But last night, I imagined myself in the shoes of any parent of a teenage daughter, and I was scared. The deeply sexist, deeply controlling, deeply obsessive view of “love” stands in contrast to everything I’ve been taught to value in a relationship-trust, humor, equality, freedom.  The vampire villains weren’t scary. The werewolves weren’t scary. And yet, New Moon and everything it represents was truly and unrelentingly terrifying.

What can I say? I am a college student with many deadlines and a brief attention span. I have not lost sight of the project…merely thrown aside by final papers, and film projects of my own. I will briefly tell you what I’ve been watching, and what i’m looking forward to this holiday movie season…plus a few that I could live without.

First things first.

Where the Wild Things Are. I can honestly tell you that I have never read such mixed reviews of a film in quite some time. I can tell you what most critics (and I) agree upon. The film is a visual playground. Spike Jonze brilliantly adapts Sendak’s beloved creatures. I have never seen such emotion on any animated creature or puppet in my life (sorry Yoda, but it’s true). Max Records makes the perfect Max, and the kid has million dollar eyes. The opening of the film is full of promise. The titles, and even the Warner Brothers logo are covered in childish scribbles. We see Max hard at work on a snow fort. Even the added backstory has some potential. Max is a child of divorce. His older sister is too cool for him. Mom has a new boyfriend. He expresses the darkest moments of childhood when he destroys his sister’s bedroom.

The troubles begin when Max reaches the land of the Wild Things. Jone’s cinematography is pitch-perfect. The island is a sunlight, dreamlike place full of potential and possibility. The tone of the film is not ruined by the landscape, but by the wild things themselves. They are aimless, depressed, and in need of a leader. Only one, Carol, is truly wild, burning dwellings and tearing up trees. I enjoyed the movie when I thought that Max would bring the group back together, in order to create a new kind of utopia, a family that could substitute for his own broken one. Without revealing too much, the plot takes a dramatically different turn. Max quickly realizes that being in charge is hard–perhaps a lesson that will cause him to be a bit easier on his beleaguered mother. The film, co-written by Jonze and novelist Dave Eggers, seem to lose sight of any message or lesson of the film. I’m not saying I needed a happy ending–just a sense that the filmmakers knew how they wanted things to end. I’ve read a lot of reviews that the film seems most directed toward twenty-something hipsters, and I agree. The low affect, the fragmented communities, the fear of social rejection, the worry that all of their work will come to naught–these are all concerns that seem to attract the college students that remember the book warmly. Reading the book as a child left me both happy to be warm and safe with my own family, and also slightly envious of Max’s adventure. The film left me flat. Max left a broken family to find another broken family, and learned that the power within himself was not enough to fix anything. Not a great message for kids-or adrift twenty somethings. I know I may be in the minority of people who saw this film, but sometimes a ten sentence book can speak fathoms. In this case, there may not be anything more to discover.

Okay. That was to get the ranting out of the way. Now. Here’s an exciting section. Movies to watch over the holiday season! Upcoming releases, as well as some more of my faves (not holiday themed. Fear not!)

Coming Soon:

Broken Embraces, Pedro Almodovar

The Fantastic Mr. Fox, Wes Anderson.

The Road

Sherlock Homes

Up in the Air.

Overhyped:

Avatar (probably deserves the hype)

New Moon (probably doesn’t)

A Christmas Carol with Jim Carrey: Seriously? Does anyone need to see another version of this movie? May I suggest my favorite rendition: The Muppet Christmas Carol. Michael Caine as Scrooge? Hello? Perfection.

A Few To Watch Over The Break (yes, this overlaps with my favorites list…what can I say, I’m loyal)

1. Harold and Maude. A self-absorbed, death-obsessed teen (Bud Cort) and a geriatric, high-on-life widow (Ruth Gordon) find love in this comical cult favorite. Hassled by his domineering mother (Vivian Pickles) to play the dating game, the morbid Harold would rather attend funerals, which is where he meets the feisty Maude. The seemingly mismatched pair forms a bond that turns into a highly unconventional — but ultimately satisfying — romance. This is number one on my list for a reason. If you choose no other movies on this list, WATCH THIS ONE!!
2. My Neighbor Totoro. Legendary Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki provides a stunningly realistic portrayal of life in the country. When their mother is hospitalized, two young sisters spend a summer in the Japanese countryside with their father. The strange new environment turns out to be a natural wonderland filled with exotic real-life creatures and a trio of furry woodland sprites who can only be seen by children. This was one of my favorite movies as a child, and it’s worth watching because the animation is amazing and it will make you feel all fuzzy and happy.
3. Talk to Her. Pedro Almodóvar’s Oscar-winning drama explores the bond forged between two men under tragic circumstances. When a bullfighting accident sends his girlfriend, Lydia (Rosario Flores), into a coma, Marco (Darío Grandinetti) visits her in the private clinic where Benigno (Javier Cámara) works as a nurse. Shy and a bit strange, Benigno tirelessly tends to Alicia (Leonor Watling), a comatose ballet dancer and object of his obsession. I love this director, all of his films are good…also recommended: Volver, Y tu Mama Tambien.
4. Contact. Jodie Foster stars in this adaptation of Carl Sagan’s thoughtful novel about the attempt to reconcile science and religion. After idealistic Dr. Ellie Arroway (Foster) discovers a signal being broadcast from outer space, the race is on to interpret humanity’s first contact with extraterrestrial intelligence. Matthew McConaughey co-stars as Father Palmer Joss, Ellie’s friend/lover; Robert Zemeckis directs. I’ve watched this movie every year since I was about 10. It’s less Science Fiction than drama, and covers everything from life, death, and romance to faith and aliens. Possibly my favorite movie of all time.
   
5. Waiting for Guffman. Community theater gets spit-roasted in this blistering mockumentary written by (and starring) Christopher Guest, who plays the ultrafey Corky St. Clair, a local theater impresario. In honor of Blaine, Mo.’s 150th anniversary, St. Clair mounts a mediocre musical tribute to the town with hopes of taking the production to Broadway. Eugene Levy costars, along with a talented ensemble cast. Not as well known as a Mighty Wind or Best in Show, but also filarious.
6. Rear Window. As his broken leg heals, wheelchair-bound L.B. Jeffries (James Stewart) becomes absorbed with the parade of life across the courtyard: A dancer, a lonely woman, a composer and a bedridden woman and her husband become like creatures in his voyeuristic zoo. But when one of them disappears, Jeffries suspects foul play — and suddenly he finds himself in the center of the action with nowhere to run. My favorite Hitchcock film-the visual detail is amazing. So is Jimmy Stewart. Not as outwardly creepy as some of his other films, but much more interesting.
7. Music and Lyrics. Has-been and former 1980s pop star Alex Fletcher (Hugh Grant) gets the comeback chance of a lifetime thanks to quirky lyricist Sophie (Drew Barrymore) in this romantic comedy. When teen singing sensation Cora Corman asks Alex to write a song and record the duet with her, Alex can’t refuse – but he also can’t write lyrics. Alex’s luck changes when he meets Sophie, and when the two sit down to write, the chemistry turns solid gold. A break from all of the serious films on the list, this movie is worth it because of the 80’s music video and Hugh Grant dancing—I think he’s bloody adorable.
8. Michael Clayton. Screenwriter Tony Gilroy makes his directorial debut with this dramatic thriller about burned-out corporate lawyer Michael Clayton (George Clooney), who’s built a career on cleaning up his clients’ messes. When a guilt-ridden colleague (Tom Wilkinson) threatens the settlement of a multimillion-dollar case, Clayton faces his biggest challenge ever. Tilda Swinton (with her first Oscar win), Sydney Pollack and Michael O’Keefe round out the impressive cast. The George Clooney. Enough Said.
9. Pan’s Labyrinth. In this fairy tale for adults, 10-year-old Ofelia (Ivana Baquero) stumbles on a decaying labyrinth guarded by Pan (Doug Jones), an ancient satyr who claims to know her destiny. With a new home, a new stepfather (Sergi Lopez) — a Fascist officer in the pro-Franco army — and a new sibling on the way, nothing is familiar to Ofelia in this multiple Oscar-winning tale set in 1944 Spain from director Guillermo del Toro. This film won Best Foreign film. Director Guillermo del Toro also directed Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and is slated to direct the Hobbit film. This film is dark, but incredibly amazing visually.
10. Labyrinth. Teenage Sarah (Jennifer Connelly) — fed up with baby-sitting — wishes that goblins would whisk away her baby brother. Much to her surprise, she gets her wish. The perfidious Goblin King (David Bowie), who lives in a castle surrounded by a giant labyrinth, gives Sarah one chance to save her sibling: Get to the castle — through the maze — in 13 hours. But to navigate the perilous labyrinth, Sarah will have to muster all her mettle and might. I’m sure you’ve seen this but three words: David Bowie’s Package.
11. Roman Holiday. Audrey Hepburn (in an Oscar-winning performance) stars as a cosseted European princess who goes AWOL in Rome and is soon taken under the wing of tabloid journalist Gregory Peck and his photographer sidekick Eddie Albert. She thinks the boys don’t suspect who she really is … but they’re clued in and sense a sensational story if they can just keep Audrey’s handlers from retrieving her too soon. The essence of 1950s chic. They don’t make men like Gregory Peck anymore. And of course, Audrey is Audrey. A romance for when you’re feeling down in the dark days of winter.
12. Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? On a serene New England campus, an emasculated professor (Richard Burton) and his rancorous wife (Elizabeth Taylor, who racked up a Best Actress Oscar) turn an evening of cocktails into an unrelenting onslaught of wrenching disclosures and bellowed epithets. Soon the couple’s guests — a junior professor (George Segal) and his colorless wife (Sandy Dennis) — get sucked into the vortex of the warring duo’s unbounded fury and endless antipathy. This film is the ultimate acting lesson for any future leading lady. Elizabeth Taylor is breathtaking, swinging from terrifying to heartbreakingly sad in a matter of minutes. You’ll enjoy the psychological games that men and women play.
13. A League of Their Own. A League of Their Own chronicles the men and women behind the All-American Girls’ Professional Baseball League. Teammates Geena Davis, Madonna and Rosie O’Donnell travel a path through triumph and tribulation, and Tom Hanks (with a beer-belly) is hilarious as the team’s dissipated wreck of a manager. Director Penny Marshall delivers a funny, sentimental crowd-pleaser that circles the bases. A good grrl power movie—and not in a spice girls kind of way. Watch for young Madonna and young Rosie. Also a good sister movie—one of our family favorites.
14. Benny and Joon. Benny (Aidan Quinn) is the overprotective caretaker of his mentally ill — but artistically talented — sister, Joon (Mary Stuart Masterson). When the eccentric Sam (Johnny Depp), who looks and acts like a silent-movie comedian, falls for Joon, the siblings’ frail bond is put to the test. Depp’s performance in this offbeat, beautifully acted love story scored a Golden Globe nomination. Julianne Moore and Oliver Platt co-star. Johnny Depp is absolutely hysterical in (shocker) a wacky and touching indie film.
15. Bowfinger. Lame producer Bobby Bowfinger (Steve Martin) has a script that’s brimming with possibilities. The catch? To get seed money to produce the film, it must feature Hollywood’s leading box-office star, Kit Ramsey (Eddie Murphy). Aided and abetted by a cast and crew of misfits, Martin makes one last stab at overnight success. Hilarity is the result. The. Funniest. Movie. Ever. WATCH  IT. NOW.
16. Bend it Like Beckham. A proper Indian girl shouldn’t be spending her time playing soccer. That’s what Jess’s family thinks, anyway. An ardent fan of British soccer sensation David Beckham, Jess (Parminder K. Nagra) wants nothing more than to be on the field. And she has the talent to boot. But her parents want her to be just like her sister Pinky, who cooks chapati like a pro and wants a traditional Indian wedding. A sweet sports comedy with plenty of heart. Girl Power. Plus hot British Man.
17. Whale Rider. Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown. A Maori tribe must contend with the distinctly non-traditional concept of having a female leader when young Pai’s (Keisha Castle-Hughes) twin brother — the intended heir to the throne — dies during childbirth. Now, she must struggle to prove herself. Stars Rawiri Paratene, Vicky Haughton, Cliff Curtis and Grant Roa. Written and directed by Niki Caro. Breathtaking cinematography and the youngest person to be nominated for Best Actress in history. Another chart topper if you’ve never seen it.
18. Duck Soup. The Marx Brothers are at their sidesplitting best in this raucous political satire, which teems with razor-sharp humor. Thanks to the patronage of well-heeled widow Mrs. Teasdale (Margaret Dumont), Rufus T. Firefly (Groucho) becomes dictator of the tiny country of Freedonia. When the ambassador of the bordering nation of Sylvania declares his love for Mrs. Teasdale, Firefly declares war. Chico, Harpo and Zeppo costar as spies and counterspies. Possibly the best Mark Brothers movie, and my Dad’s personal favorite.
19. Dirty Dancing Havana Nights. It’s 1958 when the Miller family moves to Havana, where 18-year-old Katy’s (Romola Garai) parents expect her to be the belle of the high-society ball. Instead, she falls for Xavier (Diego Luna), a waiter who teaches her how to dance and partners with her for an upcoming contest. But Fidel Castro’s rise to power forces Americans to depart, putting Katy and Xavier’s relationship in jeopardy. Patrick Swayze reprises his role as Johnny Castle. Okay SERIOUS guilty pleasure time. But Diego Luna is hot, and the dancing is good. Good for days when you don’t care to have deep thoughts.
20. Motorcycle Diaries. This film tells the incredible true story of a 23-year-old medical student from Argentina, Che Guevara (Gael Garcia Bernal), who motorcycled across South America with his friend Alberto Granado (Rodrigo de la Serna) in 1951-52. The trek became a personal odyssey that ultimately crystallized the young man’s budding revolutionary beliefs. Walter Salles’s film is based on Che’s own diaries of the trip. HOT man + gorgeous cinematography of Latin America + revolutionary dreams= definitely in my top 5.

that’s all I got, hopefully I won’t abandon this blog for so long next time. You stay classy San Diego!

This voiceover, one of the many in Terrence Malick’s The Thin Red Line, evokes the main question of the film. Is war natural, or an abhorrence in nature? This three hour meditative epic does not attempt to answer this question. Malick instead gives us a haunting portrait of war and its effects on a small band of soldiers attempting to take on a Japanese bunker on a remote island during World War II. Some complain that the film has no plot, but that’s too simple a statement for a filmmaker as complex as Malick. The film has a narrative, but it is like an impressionist painting, giving us fleeting thoughts and moments of grief in a sort of stream of consciousness of the collective minds of the men. Malick is an unusual director in many ways, and this stands out in The Thin Red Line. Relative unknowns take on most of the emotional weight of the film, while giant movie stars are reduced to seconds or minutes of screen time (George Clooney gets 45 seconds, John Travolta three minutes). Sean Penn stands out as a sergeant, and Adrien Brody’s face emotes in a role with little spoken dialogue. The lovely Miranda Otto (Lord of the Rings) represents the ideal woman at home, the woman that all the soldiers long for.

Malick has an unnerving way of juxtaposing stunning nature shots with paralyzing violence and horror. Shots of the ocean, of a bird flying, or the sun on a grassy field might give way to a bloody grenade explosion. What is striking about this film is that it is an extremely realistic and intimate portrayal of war. He does not shy away from the torture of waiting for a battle. He does not shield the audience from death or mortality. He explores the brutal and masochistic nature of war and military hierarchy. One sergeant is honorably discharged for (of all crimes) trying to keep his men from dying. Another theme of the film is the dehumanization of “the other.” It is difficult to watch both the American and Japanese fighters dehumanize their enemy, especially when Malick portrays the intimate nature of their suffering and terror. This was a film I had to watch in three different settings because the sorrow was intense to handle. However, the film is exquisitely handled, and a work that all who abhor war and desire peace should see.  In the end, war is completely senseless. The “good guys” commit unspeakable acts, the “bad guys” are as human as your own comrade or brother. Malick lets us inside the minds of men no older than I am, and seems to make the point that war is completely unnatural. Although we all know that species compete for territory in nature, and even chimpanzees have tribal battles, large-scale mechanized warfare is an entirely human construct. A large percentage of the American troops that have died in Iraq have been 22 years old or younger. And we didn’t even start counting the Iraqi civilian death toll until the middle of the war. Malick’s question cannot go unanswered.

This great evil. Where does it come from? How’d it steal into the world? What seed, what root did it grow from? Who’s doin’ this? Who’s killin’ us? Robbing us of life and light. Mockin’ us with the sight of what we might’ve known. Does our ruin benefit the earth? Does it help the grass to grow, the sun to shine? Is this darkness in you, too? Have you passed to this night?

Briefly Noted:

Adventureland: A teen movie starring Kristen Stewart (of Twilight infamy) that doesn’t suck! Take the cliche teen movie and set it at a lame 80′s amusement park, add a sincere (not to mention virginal) male lead and a messed-up but lovable dream girl, spin, let dry, and you have a perfectly enjoyable and clever pay-per view night.

The Informant: Steven Soderbergh takes a bizarre true story and turns it into an odd white collar comedy. Matt Damon is joyously “uglified” and it is his random and rambling inner monologue that creates all of the films’ humor (Polar bears cover their noses before they pounce on a seal. How do polar bears know their noses are black? Did they look in the water one day, see their reflection and say, “Man, I’d be invisible if it wasn’t for that thing.”). Not having heard the true story, I had no idea where the Damon character was headed, but the film was an entertaining and surprisingly intellectual roller coaster. Certainly the best mainstream movie I’ve seen in awhile, and with no violence or zombies to boot.

The film’s title character, Howl, is an adolescent wizard with a good heart but a penchant for selfish mischief and a weakness for the ladies. He runs into Sofi, a serious young woman who works in her late father’s hat shop. Sofi is serious, has never experienced any of the risks or thrills of being a teenager, and feels responsible for her entire family. The parallels to Cinderella are not unfounded-her mother is portrayed as a gold digger, presenting a series of rich stepfathers to Sofi. Because of her chance encounter with Howl, she is cursed by an evil woman called the Witch of the Waste. Sofi takes on the physical appearance of a 90 year old woman. She sets off to find the witch, and a series of adventures ensue.

The film is certainly imaginative (fire demons, a castle on legs with portals to different locations, a “pet” scarecrow) but lacks Spirited Away’s all out heart and whimsy. Also distracting are the choices of voice actors for the English version of the film. The wise-cracking fire demon is Billy Crystal, so clearly that it’s hard to imagine what the original dialogue was in Japanese. Also distracting is Christian Bale’s voicing of Howl. While I’m not complaining (the man could read the phone book and I’d be mesmerized), his deep voice is an odd choice for a clearly effeminate character. Add Howl’s transformation into a half-human half bird who flies around on giant black wings, and I’m out of fantasy land and into Gotham. Nevertheless, the film was an enjoyable ride, and reminded us weary college students of the power of imagination. As in most fairytales, true love saves, but I wasn’t left with the bitter taste of overly sentimental shlock. If anything, this film should lead readers to Miyazaki’s other masterpieces. His animation is so un-Disney that it’s refreshing and enthralling.

One of the laudable features of this film is that it is silent, with limited intertitles. Because of Chaplin’s genius, everything in the film is easy to understand without dialogue. His physical timing and the coreography of the movements is flawless. Particularly impressive is a sequence in which Chaplin’s tramp takes on a formidable opponent in a boxing match. The fight is much more ballet than boxing, a stark contrast to current cinematic fights in films such as Fight Club and Ali. Although the middle of the film is entertaining and delightful, I agree with my boss that everything essential to the film can be gleaned from the first and last scenes. What I got from the rest of the film is that Chaplin’s character reminds me of no one more than myself, which means he plays to universal themes and values. He is the awkward guest at the party, the friend who means well but behaves clumsily, the struggling scamp who is misunderstood by everyone, including the woman he loves. We love him for his bumbling sweetness and misguided attempts to earn wealth and find romance.

SPOILER ALERT.

The end of City Lights is one of the most poignant I’ve seen in any Hollywood film. Chaplin finds that his blind lady love has had the operation to restore her eyesight, and is now a successful florist in a high-end flower shop.  Meanwhile, the tramp’s attempts to earn her the money have led him first to jail, and then back to a life on the streets. She sees him outside her shop, and laughs as he argues with teenage hooligans shooting spitballs at him. The two come face-to-face, and she realizes who he is. The inter-titles give us this exchange: “Can you see now?” “Yes, I can see now.” My boss explains to our students that “I can see now” has a double meaning. Not only can she physically see Chaplin, but she understands who he is and how his identity changes their relationship. When we survey our (not yet cynical) students, they agree that the two end up together. It’s a simple, romantic, fairytale Hollywood ending, a theme they understand and expect from what we would today call a Romantic Comedy. My boss disagrees, and I tend to take his point of view on the subject. In the Depression-era setting, an upper-middle class woman and a homeless scamp would have no future. The last two lines and the expression on the flower girl’s face as the lights dim show a melancholy gratitude for all he has done for her, and perhaps the understanding that this is the last (as well as the first) time she’ll see his face.

These events led to a slight change of plans for this particular entry. The day after our friend’s death, I sat with my parents around the television. My dad, flipping through the movie channels, came across an old family favorite–The Sound of Music. This film was one of my mom’s favorites as a child, in fact the first film she got dressed up and went downtown to see with her family. She admits (as do I) to an undying crush on Captain Von Trapp, played by a young and handsome Christopher Plummer. My older sister, upon seeing her first Broadway show, said, “Do you know what I like about musicals? They just make you stop thinking about death for a little while.” Sound of Music served this purpose for us on that solemn Sunday afternoon. My mom commented sarcastically on the apparent A.D.D. of the Von Trapp children, and the anti-feminist anthem, “Sixteen Going on Seventeen.” I am sixteen, dating a Nazi…well you get the idea. We even left the film play during dinner-an unheard of happening in my family. As I did the dishes, my mom ironed, and my dad flipped through the New York Times, our favorite song “Eidleweiss,” came on. We all stopped what we were doing to watch the cold-hearted Captain finally break down and enjoy his children. “You’ve brought music into my life again,” he tells Maria (The unbeatable Julie Andrews, of course). Watching The Sound of Music didn’t keep us from thinking of death-instead it reminded us of what our dear friend had brought into our lives: laughter, music, and bravery in the face of obstacles as high as the Alps.

Briefly Noted:

District 9: Although it’s doing very well and many of my friends loved it, I found District 9 lacking. What great science-fiction films rely on is a thought experiment. What if an intelligent computer committed mutiny? What if a child befriends the alien who lands in his backyard? District 9 offered nothing new, except the idea that aliens could be treated as poorly as any minority group on Earth (the Johannesburg setting being no coincidence of course).  This  was basically a plotless action movie along the lines of Terminator Salvation. A lot of alien blood and guts, one alien hand, and a lot of paranoia. As one of my film professors stated: “It’s The Fly meets Starship Troopers. The Fly already met Starship Troopers. Whatever.”

Mulholland Drive would certainly be difficult, if not impossible to sleep through. I will avoid theorizing or trying to summarize the plot–if there is one (and critics seem to vary widely on this point). The film follows a sort of “dream logic.” It is a series of interconnected vignettes with repeating motifs of mysterious objects and characters whose significance the viewer isn’t meant to understand. The film opens with a woman (Laura Harring) escaping a mysterious accident. She ends up in the apartment of an aspiring actress, Betty (played by Naomi Watts). Over the course of the film, the two women change identities.

Lynch is a master cinematographer, what I would deem a “filmmaker’s filmmaker.” His imagery is impeccable. A visit to an obscure figure called “The Cowboy” features a shot of a buffalo skull above a blinking light, and image that stayed with me after the film’s end. Lynch’s depiction of L.A. matches several recent films including Michael Mann’s Collateral. L.A. is a city of dreams and nightmares. By day, it is a glittering Mecca of potential and glamor. By night, it is a fragmented, terrifying, and profoundly lonely city where one could disappear and never be found. This view of L.A. has deep personal meaning for me. I spent my first semester of college at a small school outside of the city. I found it a place both deeply interesting, and profoundly lonely, even frightening. It was not a place I felt I could live in, unable to contain my existential anxieties in such a sprawling and impersonal metropolis. In this film, L.A. seems to be a sort of Oz, a city the character Betty terms “a dream place.” Lynch’s visual and emotional genius makes the film worth watching–but logic fans beware: Lynch makes no attempt to resolve, explain, or justify any of the events of the film. It is not even clear which characters are real, and which are figments of imagination. The film seems to be a comment on several themes. First, the illusion and smoke and mirrors of Hollywood itself. Second, the way the film industry treats women as objects. Although the lesbian sex scenes may seem risque for a mainstream film, Lynch comments on what scholar Laura Mulvey would deem the “visual pleasure” inherent in portraying women as objects of the male gaze.

In my opinion, Mulholland Drive is worth watching. Perhaps Lynch is overrated; maybe it is not artistic to make a film that is almost impossible to decipher and doesn’t seem to be “about anything.” Maybe it’s simply pretentious. It is also a brave risk to take as a filmmaker. Lynch has made a film meant to be appreciated only for its visual beauty and the emotions it provokes in the spectator.  Mulholland Drive is dark, at times disturbing, and incredibly suspenseful (especially for a film that has a disjointed and dreamlike plot). From what I know of Lynch, attempting to categorize and explain this film is not a helpful exercise. He has made a film that intentionally doesn’t fit into any paradigms or labels. There are a few good articles that give some theories about the film, but I would recommend waiting until after you’ve seen the film (Salon.com has an excellent review and answers readers’ questions). If you’re the type that is incredibly frustrated by a film without resolution (and I confess I tend to be one of them), this may not be the movie for you. However, it is a good exercise in viewing a film for pure cinematic beauty and awe.

Briefly noted:

Julie/Julia. I have inherited my mother’s love for Meryl Streep. Her portrayal of Julia Child is nuanced, hysterically funny, and inspiring. The love story between Child and her husband Paul (played to perfection by the venerable Stanley Tucci) reminded my sister and I of our own parents. The Amy Adams plot seems to drag a bit. Adams tries hard, but the modern story is not as interesting as Julia’s Paris. Worth seeing as a source of inspiration for any creative person (I believe cooking is as creative as writing, art, or filmmaking).

Ponyo: The highly anticipated release from animator Hiyo Myizaki. Ponyo is not as jaw-droppingly impressive as Spirited Away or many of his other works. However, it is still incredibly imaginative and delightful. A happy-ending version of the original Brother’s Grimm version of the Little Mermaid, Ponyo is best described as “cute.” As my roommate put it, “Myizaki just wanted an excuse to animate underwater scenes.” The English version is voiced by an all-star cast including Liam Neeson and Tina Fey. While the film is bizzare (including a sequence where the water level rises so that ships on the ocean are only a few miles below the moon), it is a movie that I came out of incredibly, inexplicably happy. A rare experience in today’s media culture.

Happy screening!