Movies Seen in 2006

 

Ratings: 0 = classic; 1 = Cream of the Crop; 2 =Superior Entertainment;

3 = Decent Distraction; 4 = Just Barely Worth It; 5 = Forgeddaboudit

(Page currently being updated)

0: Classics.

 Nothing this year unless it be Mirrormask, which I would have to see a second time before committing myself.

 

1: Cream of the Crop

 

Happy Endings (Don Roos)

Not the unwatchably silly Woody Allen movie, but the latest, seemingly ignored film from Don Roos (The Opposite of Sex). The sort of movie Robert Altman was once considered a master of and that Paul Thomas Anderson has recently excelled in: a slice-of-life ensemble piece full a richly-observed characters and bizarrely realistic (or realistically bizarre) plot developments. Some beautifully modulated performances (Tom Arnold, Maggie Gyllenhaal, et al.) and a genuinely inspired script are all rendered with impressive energy and grace by Roos. Not the epic masterpiece of Magnolia, but considerably more accessible, and hugely entertaining.

 

In America (Jim Sheridan)

The director of My Left Foot does a John Boorman and turns autobiography into cracking magical fiction in this story of Irish immigrants struggling to get by in New York. Enchanting performances from the two young daughters, this is an engaging family tale that never rings a false note throughout. Profound without being pretentious, deeply moving without being sentimental. A considerable achievement.

 

In Her Shoes

Like his Wonder Boys, Curtis Hanson’s soulful adaptation of the book by Jennifer Weiner is an exercise in subtlety that the current crop of Tarantino-spawned filmmakers could do to learn from. As a director, Hanson is a master craftsman who never stoops to the standard manipulations techniques. He hits some astonishingly clear notes of poignancy and wit without ever once showing his hand as “auteur.” Like Hanson, the film works discreetly and intelligently, until by the end we are fully under the skin of its characters, and fully at home in their world. The rather unpromising material is both transcended and transformed, making a movie that, though slight, is a wonder to behold.

 

2: Superior Entertainment

 

Broken Flowers

With Bill Murray, Jim Jarmusch has found himself the perfect leading man for his cinema of sloth. Broken Flowers meanders along as its threadbare plot unfolds, to no particular consequence, offering along the way the blissful pleasures (for those who like this sort of thing) of Bill Murray sitting catatonically on his couch, and later, cruising blandly down highways. Added perks are the various blonde bombshells or ex-bombshells he encounters on his quest for the truth—Jessica Lange, Julie Delpy, Cloe Sevigny, the irresistible Sharon Stone. Indeed, it’s had it imagine a more improbable pairing than Murray and Stone, but the two seemed curiously made for each other. The movie could have done to spend more time with these two, in fact, as the other encounters (with Lange, Sevigny, Tilda Swinton) are less satisfying, and the absence of anything resembling a climax (or even an ending) reduces the film badly. Broken Flowers is determinedly slight, and by the end it pretty much dries up and blows away in Jarmusch’s determinedly empty breeze. Still, its breeziness is central to its appeal, and, along with Stranger Than Paradise and Ghost Dog, this is probably Jarmusch’s best film. Face it, Jarmusch and Murray are a match made in indie movie heaven.

 

The Exorcism of Emily Rose

A surprisingly intelligent and involving courtroom drama cum horror tale, based on a true story. The high-caliber performances (from Laura Linney, Tom Wilkinson, Jennifer Carpenter), thoughtful script, and sensitive, imaginative direction make this one of the only American (semi-mainstream) horror movies of recent years worth seeing. Writer-director Scott Derrikson is one to watch for.

 

Walk the Line

An astounding Johnny Cash impersonation by Joaquin Phoenix—perhaps the most electric of the young Hollywood actors currently on the rise—make this otherwise routine feel-good bio-pic a cut above average. Mangold brings nothing startlingly new to the mix, and he pretty much directs by numbers; yet he does something remarkable nonetheless. This is a sentimental fictionalization of a famous “bad boy” singer that somehow (like Phoenix’s singing of Cash’s songs) miraculously rings true. Highly enjoyable, if somewhat forgettable.

 

Little Manhattan

A prepubescent Annie Hall, this unexpectedly pleasing, unassuming little movie came from left of field, striking a fluky balance between adult entertainment (Woody Allen style) and the innocuous simplicity of a kid’s movie. The film skips and frolics along, managing to be both substantial and light, playful yet poignant.

 

Lord of War

As movie stars go, Nicholas Cage has a pretty good track record. Usually, one out of every three movies he does is worth a look. (E.g.: Bringing Out the Dead, Face/Off, Snakes Eyes, Adaptation. Then there is Treasure Hunt.) In Lord of War, Cage plays an independent arms dealer and takes us on a guided tour of the business. The movie begins by following the journey of a single bullet all the way from the factory line, down the barrel of the gun, into the head of a young street kid. The film’s travelogue style sacrifices dramatic tension or even momentum (rather like Scorsese’s Casino did), however. The film aspires to be more than just an action thriller, it wants to be a commentary on our times, a denunciation of wholesale mass destruction. As such, Lord of War gets to have its war and trash it, to give us the visceral thrills of violence while casting an ironic, despairing view upon its subject matter. Slick, smart, and affecting, this is nowhere near the level of Three Kings or Natural Born Killers, but it’s still a cut above the usual fare.

 

Munich

Steve Spielberg’s latest political epic is tougher and leaner (even at two and half hours) than Schindler’s List, and (thank God) a lot smarter and more savvy than Saving Private Ryan. It may be the least characteristic movie he has ever made, and the first hour at least is flawless. Spielberg aspires to the gritty documentary realism of French Connection-era Friedkin, and succeeds in something even better. At times, his meticulous attention to detail approaches the trancelike precision of vintage Coppola. Alas, Spielberg fails to sustain the tension, and his astounding and effortless realism gradually slackens, so the movie progressively descends into something routine and unremarkable. By the end, we are back to the crass tastelessness of “pure” Spielberg, with the gran follie of the climax (pun intended) in which the protagonist (Eric Bana) relives the murder of the Israeli hostages (which he has spent the whole movie avenging) while having sex with his wife. This is such a badly misconceived idea and surely someone could have had the balls to tell the director? Spielberg’s orgiastic blend of physical ecstasy and moral agony, passion and guilt is way too overwrought after the subtleties that have preceded it; in fact, it’s and borderline obscene. This bizarre ending notwithstanding, Munich is still probably Spielberg’s best film since E.T, and one of the only recent American movies to evoke the muted, gritty intensity of ’70s US cinema. It is also, after Schindler’s List, pleasingly ambiguous (and ambivalent) in its politics. A flawed but rich cinematic experience.

 

A History of Violence

Despite (or maybe because of) being his first more or less straightforward movie since The Dead Zone, this is probably David Cronenberg’s most fully satisfying work to date. Though (title not-withstanding) it’s nothing profound or visionary, this is a tight, controlled, well-shaped, edgy film with a suitably shifty performance by Cronenberg’s latest faintly reptilian leading man (and a wonderfully unexpected turn from William Hurt). Cronenberg even manages to present violence in a disturbing new light, bringing something like a fresh take to—that quintessential American movie theme—male regeneration through violence. A Straw Dogs for the 21st century.

 

The Corpse Bride

Vastly more satisfying that Tim Burton’s last movie, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, this is an inspired, witty, visually sumptuous, and admirably brief excursion on Burtonland, probably the most joyful and imaginative use of CGI animation in a feature movie to date (until Mirrormask came alone). Johnny Depp is perfectly cast as the hapless hero, Albert Finney has a ball, as does everyone involved, apparently. For once, audiences are included.

 

Matador

Charming fluff that manages more or less to do justice to its pleasing premise—lonely hit man (Pierce Brosnan) befriends family man (Greg Kinnear)—mostly thanks to a winning performance from Brosnan (who just about redeems himself for the execrable After the Sunset), and characteristic-ally solid back-up from Kinnear. The movie stays light and snappy, avoiding queasy moral dilemmas, managing to be hip and heartfelt at the same time: no mean feat. A lively addition to a growing subgenre of lovable-hitman movies (starting with Miami Blues: Pulp Fiction, Gross Point Blank, Sin City, etc).

 

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang

Entertaining trifle that benefits incalculably from perhaps the most promising actor team-up since Redford and Newman: Val Kilmer and Robert Downey Jr. Kilmer has less to do, but he does it with his customary flair, managing miraculously to play a gay private eye without ever com-promising his manly image. Downey Jr. has a role that exploits his special brand of sensitive smart-ass delivery, and (as with Singing Det-ective) he pulls it off with energy and exuberance and is a joy to behold. Considerably lighter fare than Keith Gordon’s movie, this is no less of a showcase for Downey’s talents; with anyone else in the role, it might have been undone by writer-director Shane Black’s glib, postmodern self-parodying. As it is, it’s one of the most purely engaging Hollywood movies of the past year.

 

Inside Man

Slick, solid, fast-paced and somewhat routine bank heist thriller, held together by the sterling cast of Clive Owen, Denzel Washington, and Willem Dafoe; add to the mix a sleazy Christopher Plummer and an almost creepy Jodie Foster, and you have an impressive ensemble for what remains a basically by-the-numbers actioner. As a director, Spike Lee continues to go from strength to strength at the same time as he seems to be moving further and further from personal filmmaking, into something that strays disturbingly close to hackwork.

 

The Constant Gardener

Tasteful, moving, dexterously modulated conspiracy thriller from the John Le Carre book,. An extremely topical plot involves the medical-industrial complex’s exploitation of the third world, and the hero’s uncovering of the truth slowly builds to a wrenching climax. Anchored in the ordinary human realm of emotions by an affecting triangle of performances, from Ralph Fiennes, Rachel Weiss, and Danny Huston.

 

Breakfast on Pluto

Neil Jordan returns to his Irish roots and comes up triumphant with this oddball comedy about a transvestite (Gilliam Murphy) who goes in search of his mother. The film is almost Almodovan in its pop-arty panache, its affection for the perverse, its sympathy for all its characters, no matter how bizarre or dubious, and an impressively expressionistic use of music, color, and performance to create a hyper-reality in which everything is slightly more than meets the eye.

 

All the Real Girls

David Gordon Green’s sensitive, measured, impressively authentic depiction of small-town American lives and loves. With almost flawless dialogue, a winning central performance from Paul Schneider, and some of the best ensemble character scenes since Diner.

 

Casanova

A big surprise this one. Venice makes an exquisite backdrop for this swashbuckling, mistaken identity romantic farce from prolific auteur-for-hire Lasse Hallstrom. Though the movie has “dud” written all over it, against the odds it strikes just the right balance between visual sumptuousness, romantic whimsy, and comic high jinks. And although Heath Ledger may be lacking the anarchic playfulness of Johnny Depp’s Don Juan De Marco, he gives an elegant performance nonetheless, as do the rest of the cast, from bright young newcomer Sienna Miller, to that veteran of sex comedies, Lean Olin, a rotundly amusing Oliver Platt and an inspired Jeremy Irons, to name just a few. All the players seem to relish the opportunity of playing loose and easy with the quasi-historical material, and the result is what can only be called “a delightful romp.”

 

Reviews pending:

The Three Burials of whatshisface---

North Country

 

3: Decent Distraction

 

Spartan (David Mamet)

A movie tailor made for Val Kilmer, who here plays a special op agent investigating the abduction of the president’s daughter by a white prostitution ring. As a performer, Kilmer has a rare cinematic presence. Whenever he’s on the screen, he holds the scene simply by being there. It’s not that he’s so authentic, rather that he is utterly present. His strange, ineffable charm is so powerful it knocks down the fourth wall and makes direct contact with his audience. Kilmer isn’t a showy actor, like Nicholson or Pacino; he’s not the meticulous, internal kind like De Niro or Hoffman. But he’s not a nice guy who plays up to his audiences either, like Newman or Redford. Nor is he the breezy nonchalant type, like Jeff Bridges or George Clooney, though he shares with them an admirable lack of the fussy, self-conscious “flourishes” of method acting. Kilmer combines a refreshing simplicity with some of the granite-like masculinity of Eastwood and Lee Marvin, and the slightly jaded world-weariness of Mitchum or Nick Nolte. Like these actors, Kilmer belongs to the Gary Cooper school of “say your lines and get off”—and he makes sure never to get caught acting. This apparent effortlessness may account for why Kilmer is so undervalued as an actor—he’s one of the very best we’ve got right now. It’s also why he’s perfect for David Mamet, who writes just the kind of tough-but-sensitive, philosophical machismo that Kilmer so easily embodies: it’s Chandler meet Sartre. Spartan is a lot more Chandler than Sartre, of course, and for all his existentialist leanings (I’ll be kind and not call them pretensions), Mamet is perfectly suited for Hollywood. He loves movie clichés: tough guys with big hearts, charming conmen, “the mind as the ultimate weapon,” etc, etc. Spartan is marred by a humdrum climax and a catastrophic bit of miscasting—William Macy as the heavy. And by the end, it’s fairly clear that Mamet hasn’t been able to prevent his movie from being one long series of clichés and genre conventions, done over with new precision and panache and a refreshing degree of ruthlessness. Mamet’s thriller is a fifteen-minute egg. But when it comes time to round it up, he seems to be too tired of his own intricately rigged game to bother coming up with a con-vincing finale. Maybe his desire (or someone’s) for a happy ending stretched his imagination too thin. The movie’s saving grace is its bracing realism, but all of this dribbles into nothingness with the film’s hackneyed climax. Otherwise, this is a sterling treatment of a rather negligible genre, and falls halfway between redeeming the cliché and being swallowed up by it. With almost any other actor, it would have sunk without a trace. With Kilmer, it rises above.

 

The Weather Man

Intriguing little movie from Gore Verbinski (Pirates of Caribbean) that revolves entirely around Nicholas Cage’s appealing performance as a news weather-man in mid-life crisis. Mildly amusing, gentle, well-acted, and never less than involving, the film’s most outstanding  scenes are those between Nicholas Cage and Michael Caine—improbably cast as the weatherman’s hugely successful writer-father. As played by these two giants, the relationship is something wonderful to see. Hope Davis plays the ex-wife.

 

Ice Harvest

Rather lackluster, visually weak comedy thriller, redeemed by inventive dialogue and a dreamy cast—John Cusack, Billy Bob Thornton, Connie Nielson, and Randy Quaid, as the fat guy. As ever, Harold Ramis faxes in his direction, but luckily the actors and the story, though unconvincing and far from original, carry us through it. Enjoyably forgettable; or is that vice versa?

 

Un Dia Sin Mexicanos

Stunt movie done mockumentary style about a day in Los Angeles when all the Mexicans inexplicably vanish, and how the city gets along without them (hint: it was made by Mexicans). Far from a laugh-riot, but consistently amusing, ingenious, and full of memorably quirky supporting characters.

 

V for Vendetta

Incredibly subversive, at times hypnotic dystopian sci-fi superhero drama, in which the hero is a terrorist. Based on Alan Moore’s classic comic book series (Moore removed his name from the film to let us know how he felt about it), this is scripted by the Wachowski brothers but directed by their second-unit man from the Matrix films, John McTeague. After Revolutions, V is a considerable a return to form, but still a fairly hokey affair. Especially marred by Natalie Portman’s atrocious English accent and erratic performance (the director or editor seems to have included some of her read-throughs by mistake), and by an overly cartoonish approach to what is still extremely dark material. Some of the climactic ultra-violence seems out of place, also. What’s most remarkable of all is the film’s “message,” which hinges around several scenes of destruction of government buildings, clearly designed to be orgiastic crowd-pleasing highs. Considering that terrorist action was a no-no for Arnold Schwarzenegger immediately following 9/11, it remains something of a mystery how this movie got made at all. It’s too bad it’s not better overall, because V is probably the most scathing and damning indictment of government oppression since Terry Gilliam’s Brazil. Hugo weaving does wonders with a role that obliges him to wear a porcelain mask throughout.

 

Basic (John McTiernan)

Clever-clever action thriller with more twists than it knows what to do with. A great role for Travolta and some pleasing enough chemistry between him and Connie Nielson, this is basically disposable stuff, but as a solid a genre divertissement, it delivers the goods. About on a par with Simon West’s The General’s Daughter without James Woods (though here we have Giovanni Ribisi’s creepy performance instead, as well as a scenery-munching Samuel Jackson). The film zips along with narely a slack moment, all the way to its “what the hell just happened?” smart-ass twist ending, by which time the audience probably won’t have a clue if it makes sense or not, but probably won’t much care either.

 

The Sum of All Fears (Phil Alden Robinson)

For a Clancy-inspired thriller, this is fairly tight entertainment, much better than the first two movies with Harrison Ford, though Affleck is not really convincing as a CIA librarian, but then, Affleck isn’t really convincing as anything but Ben Affleck. An unexpected development halfway through involving a nuclear attack on the US gives the film points for breaking out the mold.

 

Shaun of the Dead

The first part of the movie—in which Londoners start turning into zombies in town and the hero doesn’t even notice—is by far the best. After that, once the zombies become real, and an actual threat to our heroes, there’s no way for the filmmakers to avoid turning their movie into an horror flick, and the laughs begin to seem forced and desperate. Inventive, low-budget British lark, just the same.

 

Elizabethtown (Cameron Crowe)

For some reason this was savaged by critics, but the film I saw (despite a terminally bland Orlando Bloom and a terminally  cute Kirsten Dunst) was just fine, sweet and funny, and much closer to Almost Famous than Vanilla Sky.

 

40-Year Old Virgin

Hard to believe this isn’t worse than it is, but the film is raised above its drearily unpromising premise by Steve and Catherine Keener and actually manages to be quite charming. Closer to Crocodile Dundee than American Pie.

 

Brick

Pretentious, often incomprehensible indie movie, similar to the Coens’ Blood Simple in being a wholly contrived homage to pulp fiction designed as a showcase cum calling card for its makers to storm Hollywood. Empty and unremarkable, but well-made and reasonably intelligent.

 

An Unfinished Life (Lasse Haelstrom)

At last a decent role for Robert Redford, who must by now be in his seventies, as the itinerate farm owner who cares for a bear-mauled Morgan Freeman but barely tolerates the presence of his returned daughter in law (husband-bashed Jennifer Lopez). Exactly the kind of lyrical whimsy we have come to expect from the director, but grounded by the marvelous performances.

 

Stay

Pretentious but intriguing mind-bender with a promising cast—Ewen McGregor, Naomi Watts, and Ryan Gosling—never really given enough to do.

 

Upside of Anger

A hugely appealing Kevin Costner and the ever-inventive Joan Allen…

(to be reviewed)

Friends With Money

Finding Neverland

Good Night and Good Luck

Capote

Game 6

Two for the Money

Lucky Number Slevin

 

4: Just About Worth It

 

Manderlay

Disappointing and—frankly—dull sequel to Dogville, with no Nicole Kidman or James Caan to relive the tedium, and only a brief appearance by Willem Dafoe to keep us amused. More of a polemic than a movie, this has none of the bite or the audacity of the original.

 

Jarhead

Disappointing and misguided attempt by Sam Mendes to make a searing Gulf War movie that winds up closer to Full Metal Jacket than Apocalypse now, i.e., more vapid and tedious than anything.

(still to be reviewed)

Brokeback Mountain

Willard

Cry Wolf

Secret Window

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Primo

The Family Stone

Mr. and Mrs. Smith

X-Men

The DaVinci Code

The Omen

Fun with Dick and Jane

Frailty

Garden State

Troy

 

5: Forgeddaboudit

Maybe I will find something to say about these, or maybe not.

King Kong

 

The New World

 

Rumor Has It

 

The Wedding Crashers

 

Freedomland