The best film with a theatrical release I saw in 2009 was made in 1948. That’s not actually a knock on 2009, easily one of the stronger cinematic years this decade. But as I consider The Red Shoes to be among the top five greatest films ever made, I can’t ignore that the release of its pristinely restored version was a (if not the) highlight of my cinematic year. I’m only sorry I did not have the chance to attend the special screening at the DGA Theater to see it on a significantly larger screen than the one at Film Forum. Bruce Goldstein’s repertory programming at Film Forum is on its own almost enough for me to never even consider leaving New York, but oh how I wish their screens were significantly larger.
Yet I digress. My list of the top 10 films of 2009 completed in time for indieWIRE’s annual critics’ survey is now live at their site. I find creating lists to be simultaneously entertaining and frustrating exercises, but for me, the list simply can’t be the (only) thing. A list without an explanation might as well resemble a visually stunning plate of food that somehow lacks any flavor. So over the next two weeks, I shall explain my lists; the ones on indieWIRE as well as a few others. And so, first up: The Top 10 films of 2009.
Determining my top 10 this year was probably more difficult than any other year during these terrible Aughts, with the possible exception of 2004. Determining rankings (required by indieWIRE’s poll) proved particularly trying. I settled on my top 5 with relative ease and without internal argument. But after that, not only were there 10 or 20 films that convincingly deserved one of those lower-half slots, but they also kept hopping in and out of the list.
The difficulty in ranking combined with the pains of trimming illustrates a great year for film. However, it additionally proclaims a year in which the standout movies are mostly of such a high level that they simply don’t stand out from each other individually as much. I don’t mean to imply that the great films of 2009 aren’t unique and special; far from it, in fact. Rather, the voices that shouted, “Look at me” from screens this year were all so compelling, comparing most of them to each other in any attempt to rank them becomes quite complicated.
One special note about one title not on my top 10: Steve McQueen’s Hunger is one of the most unique and impressive achievements in cinema of the last couple years. I saw it at the 2008 New York Film Festival before it received a one-week release in LA. Because of that, I included it on my top 10 last year, as did 18 other participants of indieWIRE’s survey. However, it didn’t receive a New York release until this year, and it seems 10 critics voted for it this time around. If I hadn’t included it on last year’s list, it would definitely be on my current one, but I thought it inappropriate to list it twice. Where would it have placed this year? I’m not sure, and since I don’t have to make that determination, I’m not going to.
Of course, all of these exercises, especially when it comes to ranking, are more than simply subjective. And even in the days since submitting my ballot, I’ve thought to myself, maybe this film should replace that one; or, maybe this film should rank higher. One of the next posts will focus on the top films of the decade, which noticeably will not include any of the following titles. I’ll explain that deliberate choice further at that time. But for now, below is my list of the best of 2009, and after the jump, the reasons why:
- Where the Wild Things Are
- A Serious Man
- Summer Hours
- Fantastic Mr. Fox
- 35 Shots of Rum
- In the Loop
- Inglourious Basterds
- The Informant!
- The Limits of Control
- Lorna’s Silence
- Where the Wild Things Are: Directed by Spike Jonze; Written by Jonze & Dave Eggers
I know many people have problems with Jonze’s adaptation of Maurice Sendak’s revered children’s book. Strangely enough, I keep thinking of Vice President Biden who, when asked to comment on the actions of other politicians, often quotes former Senate leader Mike Mansfield, saying, “Never question another man’s motives; question his judgment.” Personally, after reading many criticisms of the film, I find myself disagreeing with many critical judgments, and yet, I can’t help but also take, from what much of the criticism states, that certain motives (unconscious or otherwise) have in some (not all) cases contributed to these judgments. This should be neither unexpected nor surprising as our personal filters – sometimes easily controlled, other times, not so much – obviously contribute to our subjective judgment. In my case, I wholeheartedly admit that Jonze’s movie tapped into something very personal for me: a 38 year old man whose parents’ divorced when he was four and in so many ways can identify with Max; even more specifically, the Max in Jonze’s film.That said, for me, the tremendous success of Where the Wild Things Are comes down to a relatively basic, but by no means simple, fact: Jonze created the best and most effective representation of childhood imagination, logic and rationalization that I have ever seen on screen; a magnificent example of how kids struggle to cope with and understand an incomprehensible surrounding world, and in the process of doing so, they begin to grow-up without even knowing it’s happening to them.
I plan to write more detail about Wild Things after the new year, but from the moment I saw it, and then upon seeing it again later the same week, I knew another film would be hard-pressed to take-over its place at the top of my year-end list.
- A Serious Man: Written & Directed by Joel Coen & Ethan Coen
I found somewhat baffling much of the conversation regarding how due to the time, place and people inhabiting A Serious Man, the Coen brothers had made their most personal film. Rather, I considered it mostly irrelevant. A Serious Man took me utterly by surprise. A relatively modern-day (but still, in truth, a period piece) Story of Job, certainly nihilistic in overall attitude toward religion, faith and tradition, ultimately, the film leaves its audience with several contradictory questions and arguments, all of which are valid. The brilliance of A Serious Man has little to do with how much or little it may or may not tell us about the Coens and their own beliefs, nor does it have much to do with its representations of Jews, humorous or otherwise. Instead, A Serious Man succeeds due to its innate ability to put forward contradictory themes that can all easily be argued as correct. A Serious Man simultaneously proclaims that the collective glass is half-empty while never relinquishing the possibility that it may also be half-full. It’s not the optimistic nor pessimistic approach; nor is it the overly-timid nor excessively outgoing that is going to affect or change our lives and fortunes. We can only go along for the ride and make the best even of the worst because ultimately, we can never know the absolute truth about anything, and our individual piousness may not take us very far. - Summer Hours: Written & Directed by Olivier Assayas
To say I was floored by Summer Hours would be a bit of an understatement. I don’t understand the arguments I’ve read against the film because they don’t represent the movie I watched whatsoever. Summer Hours is a movie about time and change, the things in our lives that are permanent vs. those that are not, and maybe most importantly, the pieces of the world around us that are constant vs. those that are transient. In the most simplistic terms, these “pieces” are every form of noun: people, places and things that form connections with each other; personal connections, including those between people and places or inanimate objects. As living beings, we all place value on items either for what they do or what they mean to us, and yet to another, that inanimate object or that place we cherish so much will be meaningless or nothing more than artifact.The struggle in Summer Hours is never meant to be the top-of-your-lungs fighting of dysfunctional family films we all know-and-love, but rather, a simmering lingering despair or feeling of loss over the people, places and things that others do not value as much as we do, even when those others are members of our own families. The film also formally focuses on time passing within the modern family unit, and a generational disconnect more unique to a modern age in which family and community has become less tribal; no longer do multiple generations all live in the same house, much less the same village. The coming together twice a year at a grandparent’s house becomes a ritual, integrated into one’s existence, but still transient. Summer hours, not so different from office hours. They’re scheduled; they’re what you do; you may even miss them and maintain a sense of nostalgia when they’re gone.
I don’t want to monopolize this list with a discussion of this magnificent film, and it, too, is one I plan to discuss in greater detail later, especially after I have the chance to watch it a second time.
- Fantastic Mr. Fox: Directed by Wes Anderson; Written by Anderson & Noah Baumbach
I’ll admit it: I had been down on Anderson for his last couple films. I thought he had peaked with The Royal Tenenbaums. The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou was a much-of-the-same-done-less-well swan dive after Tenenbaums heights and The Darjeeling Limited a continuing yawning descent. Fantastic Mr. Fox wholly redeems Anderson in my book, though. Whimsically creative, manufacturing a wonderful balance of hysterical slapstick, deadpan wit and somber morality tale, Anderson, his extremely talented and well-chosen voice-cast and his team of oh-so-patient and meticulous animators hit all the right notes. - 35 Shots of Rum: Directed by Claire Denis; Written by Denis & Jean-Pol Fargeau
I know many people who dislike Summer Hours but love 35 Shots of Rum. While there are plenty of unrelated reasons to love Denis’s film, I found the similar themes to be most compelling: the ways we change, and the ways our relationships change; admitting to ourselves that nothing can remain static, no matter how much we enjoy, value or appreciate it, not just in terms of people (the relationship between father and daughter) but very much also places, things and activities (a job as a train conductor; the apartment that belonged to one’s parents). 35 Shots of Rum is a lovely film, and Denis’ approach to character and aesthetic is worth one I relished submerging myself into. - In the Loop: Directed by Armando Iannucci; written by Iannucci, Jesse Armstrong, Simon Blackwell & Tony Roche
Calling a movie the modern Dr. Strangelove (as many did upon its release) is high praise, but I’m not sure any political satire in recent memory has come closer than In the Loop. Smart, clever and bitingly funny, Iannucci’s film magnificently expresses the absuridity of modern international political wrangling by showing how the least important influences on the actions of the greatest powers are, unfortunately, the most important matters. - Inglourious Basterds: Written & Directed by Quentin Tarantino
Much like Anderson, I had tired of Tarantino’s shtick. He had become the epitome of the over-indulgent filmmaker, and while that is generally a too-easy criticism I don’t appreciate, Tarantino repeatedly earned the moniker. As a filmmaker, Tarantino too often seems to shout at his audience in failed attempts to honor and invoke his fanboy appreciation for genre: look at me and my geek knowledge of film tropes! He’s too impressed with his own creativity and desired cool-factor, and both Kill Bills and Death Proof suffered. But in Inglourious Basterds, everything coalesces quite nicely. I always felt that had he actually been brutal with Kill Bill, cutting the two parts into one coherent and better-constructed 2 ½ hour film, it would have worked magnificently, but he just couldn’t lose any of his that’s-so-awesome moments. In Basterds, it seems he has done exactly that, and the movie soars because of it. - The Informant!: Directed by Steven Soderbergh; Written by Scott Z. Burns
I walked out of The Informant! having seen a film that in no way resembled the one I anticipated walking in. Sold as some sort of mainstream, whistleblower/con-man studio comedy, I expected something much more along the lines of the Ocean’s films than Soderbergh’s less mainstream, low-budget, HD work. What I experienced, however, was much more shocking, playful, innovative and experimental than Schizopolis, Bubble, Full Frontal or The Girlfriend Experience. Soderbergh subverts every convention and expectation from his use of voiceover and supporting role casting to title font and score. As I left the theater, I found myself confused. How much did I actually enjoy watching The Informant!? For one of the first times ever, in that moment, it didn’t matter. I found the filmmaking itself so thoroughly compelling, the movie refused to leave my thoughts, and even now, months later, I continue to marvel at Soderbergh’s achievement. - The Limits of Control: Written & Directed by Jim Jarmusch
I would never characterize myself as a huge Jarmusch fan. I’ve probably been utterly bored by more of his films than I’ve loved, and although a complex, quick-moving narrative is something you won’t find in The Limits of Control, Jarmusch’s examination of archetype and character fascinated me to no end. I can’t remember another time when a character’s one-dimensionality – albeit, with many specific traits – proved to be so compelling on its own, rather than simply as servicing a larger action-packed plot (read: Keanu Reeves in Speed, The Matrix, well … anything.). - Lorna’s Silence: Directed & Written by Jean-Pierre Dardenne & Luc Dardenne
I’m a sucker for films about large unexpected (at least to the characters) consequences for what seem like (again, at least to the characters) pretty straightforward decisions. In the best of these films, like Lorna’s Silence, not only do these consequences spin completely out of the character’s control so there is a continuing sense of simply being unable to catch-up, let alone, manage the results, but the “right thing” to do so often leads to an undesirable resolution. Of all the films on this list, Lorna’s Silence is the one I saw longest ago, yet the power and craft of the Dardennes’ meticulous storytelling, laying out each important event and plot point no sooner or later than the perfect moment to keep the audience perpetually intertwined in the film has resonated ever since.
That’s 10, but 10 is nowhere near enough. Many of my next tier films spent time on this list, and for one reason or another, when push-came-to-shove, they got shoved. But just cause they’re gone from here, they’re not forgotten … rather, they’re up next.
Out of Focus 