Brightest Young Things

by Gareth Moore

Not too long ago I was reading a feature about the forthcoming Gaspar Noe film, Enter The Void, and the journalist spoke to Noe’s friend and fellow filmmaker Harmony Korine.  During Korine’s interview he spoke about the power of Noe’s films and made a comment that has stayed with me ever since: “Sometimes you just want to be assaulted.” That line does not apply to everyone, but it certainly fits me.  Unlike most of my peers I have no problem being devoured by a cinematic beast.  The reasons why have nothing to do with a lust for torment or blood; too many dramatic films promise to move, only to discover they have all the weight of a feather.  The pleasure of these fierce films comes from experiencing a well-crafted fable that evokes a unique response in me.  But, yes, I want it to hurt.  I want to feel something. These are the films that left me trembling, howling, revolted, haunted, and/or shell-shocked...and, in just a few cases, all of the above.

The Square:

I left this film shaking, a rare occurrence for me.  Before the film began I, along with the entire audience, was already in a state of shock after viewing the short film Spider.  This was screened first since it was from the director of The Square, Nash Edgerton, and Spider displays how talented and twisted he is (go watch it, I dare you: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jmbv8kevQ-E).  With The Square, his feature film debut, he re-arranges the typical features of the film noir and creates something that is as enthralling as it is shocking.

The plot is simple: two people are in love, they want to run away from their spouses and be together, and a bag of money enters the equation.  But instead of existing in shadows this is set in sun-drenched, middle-of-nowhere Australia.  Instead of a femme fatale we have a woman who genuinely loves. And then you have the director who already shows keen awareness as to where to put the camera, where to edit, when to use music, how to create tension and how to hold it; this man has a level of intelligence that is sorely missing in main-stream Hollywood fare.  It is thrilling to surrender to his vision.

The final section of the film is one body-blow after another.  As I re-watched the film recently I was surprised how it could still grip me so tightly, how the events still left my jaw hanging, and how badly that last shot hurt.  This is why I wandered out of the film shaking; I was sickened by the finale, shocked by the cinematic experience, and excited to see what this director does next.

The Ghost Writer:

This proved to be a surprisingly delicious treat.  Roman Polanski managed to create an intelligent, devilishly witty, nerve-wracking thriller.   He’s made great thrillers before, but this is a distinctive one in his canon, perhaps because it was enormous fun even at its most chilling, or maybe because he revealed that Pierce Brosnan can be a fantastic actor when working with great material.  I was surprised by how frequently the film sent me into fits of laughter, sometimes born out of genuine humour or a quietly cutting remark from the always enticing Olivia Williams.  The film was so much fun that even the miscast Kim Cattrall couldn’t sink it.

A second-tier writer is hired to ghost write the memoir of an ex-Prime Minister after the original writer is found dead.  Every one-on-one meeting the ghost writer has with Bronson’s Prime Minister, or with his savvy wife, goes from pleasant to vicious and back again.  Of course, nothing is what it seems.  Whether or not you see what’s coming is irrelevant since the film is loaded with infectious delights. Watching good actors deliver sharp dialogue is always fun, but the real joy comes from Polanksi’s hypnotic imagery.  His choice of setting the story inside a beach house built with chic modern architecture, his use of CGI, how he placed the actors in the frame, all of this leads to memorable images that tease you with what’s to come. The final shot is a testament to Polanski’s undying creativity; it’s a dazzling piece that has yet to abandon my mind.  This is the rare film that left me completely satisfied.

Red Riding:

Reading the Red Riding quartet by David Peace was not only my best literary experience of 2009-2010, but it is one of the greatest journeys I have ever taken.  As extraordinary as it was, the series left me with wounds that have yet to heal (and, no, that is not an overly dramatic statement).  No other novel has filled me with so much anguish and awe.  Unfortunately this powerful experience meant I could not view the films as clearly as others.  Nevertheless, the Red Riding Trilogy is worthy of tremendous applause.

A few facts about the series: These films were made for T.V. in England.  They were helmed by three different filmmakers, shooting in three different styles (16mm, 35mm, and the Red camera).  Even with the alterations and omissions from the source material they follow the cardinal rule of film adaptations: remain true to the spirit of the novel. This was not an easy task considering how graphic and bleak the books are.  To make this series even sweeter, you get to witness an ensemble of exceptional actors illuminate the tale: Andrew Garfield (The Social Network, Boy A), Rebecca Hall (Vicky Christina Barcelona, The Prestige), Paddy Considine (24 Hour Party People, The Bourne Ultimatum), Sean Bean (Goldeneye, The Lord Of The Rings), Eddie Marsan (Vera Drake, 21 Grams), David Morrissey (State of Play, Viva Blackpool), Peter Mullen (Boy A, Miss Julie), and so many more.  This is a level of ambition that is rarely displayed in T.V., and yet they pulled it off.  England devoured it; The Guardian recently ranked Red Riding as one the 50 greatest TV shows/films ever made.

The films examine a decade’s worth of violence, greed, deception, social decay, and murder in northern England.  Many of the events are fiction, some of them are fact, but through a series of lies they reveal some truths: these unforgivable acts don’t end with death; they ripple throughout the ages, leaving each generation living amidst the rot we created.  This is why Red Riding earned comparisons to The Wire, because they displayed the wide-ranging damage perpetrated by the criminals on the streets and in the halls of power.

It should be noted that these films are not designed to be stand-alone pieces but as a set.  This may sound laughable after you watch them because of their refusal to play by the typical rules.  If you need answers, closure, and concrete understanding, then you shouldn’t see these films.  The trilogy, like the original quartet, occasionally seems opaque (or, as The Guardian wrote, “Infuriatingly elusive”).  The mysteries linger, feeding upon you just like they do with the characters.  Who did what and why is not the point.  The point is witnessing an array of creative minds illustrate the overwhelming evils that lurked in the not-too-distant past.  Please check it out before Ridley Scott remakes it...as a single film...set in modern day America...ugh.

Winter’s Bone:

If you don’t know about this film now, you will soon.  The typical “awards buzz” is following the film everywhere, particularly for the lead actress Jennifer Lawrence.  Thankfully the film deserves all of its acclaim, as does Lawrence with her commanding performance.  She held my attention for every frame and, ultimately, created the best heroine I’ve seen on screen in a long time (but I do hold some fondness for Hit-Girl from Kick-Ass).

Ree is in dire straits.  Her drug-dealing father is missing and is due in court.  If he isn’t found then her house will be taken, leaving her and her younger siblings out in the cold.  Ree, only 16, marches through the mountain town trying to find her father, asking questions she should have never asked.  Ree possesses the intelligence, strength, dry wit, and determination that all great cinema sleuths have.  What makes Ree and her journey so special, and so painful to watch, is that she is a kid who has to experience the horrors of the world to save her family.  Even during such intense circumstances you still get a close look at not only her life but the lives of her neighbours.  All of them are living on the bare minimum, with rituals and codes that must be followed.  Thankfully the filmmakers depict the people and their daily lives with respect, never mocking them for cheap laughs.  This attention to detail makes the protagonist, her mission, and her life, more gripping than the average detective story.

It should be said that Lawrence is far from the only solid performer in the film.  Two pros from Deadwood grace the film: the always impressive pair of Garret Dillahunt and John Hawkes.  In the rich tradition of great character actors they seem to take every role as seriously as the last, regardless of the size of the role or the film.  Hawkes in particular shines as Ree’s uncle Teardrop because he never lets you see the amount of hate and violence inside him, he simply lets you feel the weight of it with every gesture, every line.  Never knowing what he has done in the past, or what he is capable of doing in the moment, keeps him interesting.  It keeps him scary.

Animal Kingdom:

This is another Australian thriller that also proved to be a wicked crime film and family tragedy.   The kingdom is crumbling.  Members of the Cody crime family are beginning to consider other means of living, but some think there is no other way to survive.  The family is looked after by oldest brother Pope and the mother hen Janine.  When young cousin J is orphaned he comes to live with the Cody’s.  Through him we witness the family unravel.

The film is set in Melbourne during the eighties, a period of ferocious animosity between the criminals and the cops.  Director David Michod has discussed how this volatile period resulted in some shocking acts of violence.  This rivalry is put on display in the film and the result is harrowing.  What makes the film surprising is the lack of heavy violence, gun battles, or big chases.  This is what one usually expects in thrillers and crime films.  Instead you get a detailed character study, one that dissects the inner-workings of a twisted family on the brink of annihilation.

Ben Mendelson’s performance as Pope stands alongside Lawrence in Winter’s Bone as being one of the crowning achievements of the year in film.  What is wrong with Pope?  Is he schizophrenic?  Is he completely bereft of morals, of humanity?  Like Hawkes’s Teardrop in Winter’s Bone, Mendelson spends most of the film quietly simmering, leaving you to wonder what evil he has done and is willing to do.  The different between Pope and Teardrop is that Pope gives you a moment where you see exactly what he is capable of.  That scene sent me into a state of panic, refusing to believe he would ever commit such a heinous act.  I can still hear the audience gasping in horror.

Enter The Void:

Oh Gaspar.  When will he accept the fact that he is talented enough to let go of the routine shock tactics?  Those graphic scenes near the end are unnecessary, even if they are part of his cinematic signature.  And yet the film remains a thoroughly unique experience.  Since I have no definition for a perfect film, perhaps the mark of a great film is one that manages to sustain its greatness amidst its flaws.  This film has plenty of problems but it remained a ravishing ride.

Gaspar Noe creates a manic journey through Tokyo that evolves into an odyssey through the mind, body, spirit, and finally finishing with re-birth.  There is no plot, and there is little story, it’s all about the cinematic trip.  Through his vision of Tokyo and the afterlife we gaze upon images that appear to be captured by a magical camera, one that is weightless, unattached, and able to catch sights we couldn’t dream of (and some we wouldn’t want to).  Whether or not you enjoy Noe’s films, or agree with his views, it’s hard to deny him to be anything less than a filmmaker with a distinctive vision.

This vision captivated me for a long time, but not the entire time.  This movie is so long!  Although Noe re-edited the film from the original, longer, version screened at the Cannes Film Festival there is still plenty he could have left in the cutting room.  I did not need to see that car crash four times.  And, once again, the gratuitous shock scenes near the end instantly pulled me and everyone else in the theatre out of the film.  All we could do was laugh.  At least those scenes paled in comparison to the brutality in his last film, Irreversible.

None of these criticisms have eroded my appreciation of the final product.  I loved witnessing an expert director try to create something bold and new.  I continue to marvel at the film.

The Human Centipede (First Sequence):

I have never been a horror aficionado; with film, as with any art form, all I want is an engaging experience, and that can happen in any genre.  Some horror films have fit my personal tastes, but I haven’t wasted my time with the “torture-porn” of the past ten years.  The reason The Human Centipede (First Sequence) made this list is because it proved to be an engaging experience from beginning to end.  It had the features of classic horror (dumb girls, mad scientist with a sick idea, e.t.c.) but director Tom Six managed to concoct a disgusting idea and move 12 steps beyond it.  That is what I appreciated about the film: it’s willingness to take its idea and follow it down paths that were bizarre, twisted, different, and shockingly funny.

For those who haven’t seen the film, I assure you, it’s not as disgusting as you may expect it to be.  I’ve seen clips of the Saw films and they were infinitely nastier than anything here.  The joy you may get from seeing this stems from various places: Dieter Lasser’s over-the-top performance, watching his mad scientist teach his creation to play fetch, discovering how the actors become much better when they can no longer speak (that is meant to be a compliment), or the shocking image of the human centipede.  I have never seen anything like that before.

Considering how quickly the title character is created I wondered where the film could possibly go from there.  I was pleasantly surprised, and then mortified, at the events that followed.  The film stunned me numerous times, which is not an easy task, but never more than in the concluding scene.  Many films on this list have a fantastic final scene or shot, but this may have the definitive one due to its unbearable horror.  It was so disturbing, so sad, I wanted to cry (but no, I didn’t).

Four Lions:

Yet another film that left me shaking, but this time with a twist.  The sharp humour had already left me exhausted from laughter.  What really unnerved me was throughout the nail biting finale and into the last scenes filmmaker Chris Morris followed his dark tale to its logical conclusion.  This is not an easy task.  In my view most comedies lose their steam in the third act.  The laughs turn soft, or they disappear altogether.  The characters that spent the entire move as dumb misogynists suddenly become sweet and ok to love.  Comedies too often betray themselves in the end.  Four Lions never does that.  On the contrary, it goes farther than you expect it to.  This is why it left me with the shakes.

A group of Muslim extremists in modern London yearn to become soldiers.  They are trying to plan a suicide bombing; unfortunately they could be the most inept suicide bombers in history.  Everyone has a different idea for the perfect target (one wants to bomb a mosque, another one wants to bomb the internet).  Their remarkable idiocy prevents them from getting a blessing from their superiors, but they decide to carry on with the mission.  All that follows is simultaneously hilarious and appalling.  The most surprising element may be the tender family scenes with the central protagonist Omar.  The way his wife and son encourage his plan, and his ascension to heaven, while having a lovely breakfast, disturbed me.

The film is as dark and heavy as I have made it appear, but it is infinitely funnier than any main-stream Hollywood film I’ve seen this year.  What makes this film so much sweeter is that it is not afraid to make you laugh and then kick you in the gut.

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World:

Upon exiting this film I began to wonder if this would be this generation’s Streets of Fire (high-praise, too high in fact since this film doesn’t feature the luscious Diane Lane or conclude with a wicked sledgehammer fight).  Just like Streets of Fire, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World displays a fully realized world of artificiality.  Everything is heightened to infinity.  As director Edgar Wright has joked, when the emotion for the characters becomes too much to bare they don’t break out into song, they break out into FIGHTS!  All of these things proved to be too much for the general audience; the film tanked.  This is a shame since it was the only satisfying Hollywood film I saw last summer (no, I haven’t seen Toy Story 3 yet).

A short list of reasons why this film is so compelling

• Wright’s vision.  If you’ve seen his previous works (Spaced, Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz) then you know he is as far from lazy as is possible.  He wants his films to explode on the screen and in your mind.  He knows how to enhance the comedy via editing, music, and special effects.  Also, he gets better with each film.

• The ensemble.  All of them are fantastic (yes, even Cera).  The return of Kieran Culkin, whom I have missed since the black as night comedy Igby Goes Down, steals every scene he’s in.  However, I can say the same thing about Aubrey Plaza, Ellen Wong, Alison Pill, Chris Evans, and, perhaps most surprising of all, Brandon Routh.  I have never and will never endure Superman Returns because the few bits I have seen were insufferable, but Routh is hysterical in this film.

• Mary Elizabeth Winstead.  I need to single her out because as central love interest Ramona Flowers her character seemed to have less definition on screen than in the book.  This was not an issue for Winstead because she is captivating all by herself.  She kept me caring and curious even though there wasn’t enough in the script to earn it.

• The new take on the Rock & Roll fable.  Wright wanted to make the R&R scenes different from any other film.  There is a scene where Pilgrim’s band plays against another band and...I don’t want to say what happens, but I can assure you the result is something very different.

• Lastly, my reaction to the film once it ended was feeling like I could charge up a mountain, soar into the heavens, eradicate the toughest of men, and simply feeling amazing.

The White Ribbon:

Michael Haneke films perfectly define the term “acquired taste”; they also give new meaning to the word “bleak.” They are laced with unrelenting tension and dread, as if violence could explode at any second (and it can, without warning).  Haneke controls his camera with the same precision as Stanley Kubrick and Michael Mann; he is methodical with what is put inside the frame and how the camera will move onto the next image.  The pacing is slow.  And, worst of all, they are foreign films with subtitles.  This last example is essentially the only reason why he helmed an English-language remake of his film Funny Games.  The original film was a bitter indictment on Americans lust for violence in cinema, but only so many Americans would bother with a foreign film.  If any of the above puts you off then you shouldn’t bother watching his films.  However, those who appreciate Haneke have come to view each of his new films as a cinematic event.

His latest film chronicles a German village that is experiencing far too many “accidents.”  Actually, I think I am going to end the plot description there since it makes the film more fun.  What is fascinating here is the study of abuse in its various forms, how that abuse infects the next generations, and such treatment can evolve into the most catastrophic displays.  This film did not hit me with the force of his strongest films (The Piano Teacher or Benny’s Video) but it illustrates Haneke’s continued evolution as a great storyteller.

And now, a brief look at a few older films I finally saw in 2010.

Naked:

Johnny’s odyssey through the guts of London is a wicked social critique, a vicious character study, and a savage comedy, but it becomes incredibly distressing when ever Greg Cruttwell enters the frame.  Wicked, vicious, savage, distressing... it’s no wonder Neil LaBute loves this film.

The Hit:

Fans of Sexy Beast must take notice and witness one of its inspirations.  The feature film debut of both Stephen Frears (director of High Fidelity and The Queen) and Tim Roth (replacing Joe Strummer because his Clash band-mates wouldn’t let him do the film), this is a British gangster film set in Spain.  Once again, a crime film without gun battles, gratuitous violence, or car chases.  Instead you have a road movie where each character is put under a magnifying glass as they engage in psychological warfare with each other.  It’s a peculiar film where the oddities are half the fun.

White Dog:

I have no problem admitting that I watched this film curled up in a ball and squeezing myself out of genuine panic.  This movie scared me.  It is an unflinching study of a white dog, an animal trained to attack black people.  Director Samuel Fuller uses the dog as a metaphor to show how racism, in even the most casual forms, can infect the mind and inspire others to fear and hate.  No one is born racist, it is learned.  A scientist played by Paul Winfield tries to re-condition the dog with strange methods.  One of those methods is allowing the animal to attack him.  It’s a punishing viewing experience but it’s also an unforgettable one.

Mishima: A Life In Four Chapters:

This film had me from the opening credits: the music created by Philip Glass is unbearably beautiful and the production design from Eiko Ishioka is breathtaking.  Respect must be paid to director Paul Schrader.  He made a film about one of the most controversial men in Japan’s recent history, filmed it there, in their native language, and told Mishima’s story in multiple styles, through his personal history and his fictional novels.  Ray it is not.  Although the film was co-financed by a Japanese film company (with extra help from executive producers Francis Ford Coppola and George Lucas) the film continues to be banned in Japan.  The beauty and creative daring on display in Mishima: A Life In Four Chapters remains unparalleled.

The Night Of The Hunter:

Robert Mitchum wanders through an American countryside that looks more like a German Expressionist film.  In case the picture above isn’t enough of an indicator, he is not a good man.  He marries a widow because he knows her late husband left a large sum of money somewhere in their house.  Only her two kids know where it is.  What follows is a thriller that is a strangely attractive when it’s not freaking you out.  Although I remain baffled by the final minutes of the film, it is a creepy film that’s worth seeing.

The Wages of Fear:

The Wages of Fear had me sweating from stress and left me in utter exhaustion.  My heart is pounding just from the thought of the film.  In South America, circa 1953, a small village is filled with poor people who are in dire need of money.  They will take any job.  There is an oil fire over the mountains and the oil company pays four men to drive trucks loaded with nitro-glycerine to the fire.  It’s a suicide mission but, as I said, these men are so impoverished they will take any means of escape.  Inside the film there is a harsh study on how wealthy companies take advantage of the poor, American imperialism, the savage nature that exists inside us, but all you need to know is these men are driving massive bombs.  The slightest bump, the smallest shift, and they will die.  Once the trucks start moving the rest of the film is unbearable...and wonderful.

And, in conclusion, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Previously in END OF YEAR 2010 LISTS:

• 1/21: Songs To Consider ...
• 1/4: The Top Ten Sneakers of 2010
• 12/30: Top Ten Guilty Pleasures of 2010
• 12/21: The Best Musical Moments of 2010
• 12/20: Songs That Made Me! Happy in 2010
• 12/16: Worst Music Packaging Of 2010
• 12/15: Best Music Packaging of 2010
• 12/14: Top 10 Movie Superlatives of 2010!
• 12/8: Music You May Have Missed In 2010