"Hey Groggy, your Best & Worst list is a week late!"
My first full year as an "adult" completely removed from school meant a lot less movie time. I managed a respectable 161 posts in 2012, yet a disproportionate number were off-topic essays or links with brief commentary. Still, Nothing is Written helped keep me sane through a rough year.
With fewer films, my movie habits naturally became less varied. While I unearthed a few obscure gems, you'll note few foreign language movies and only a handful of theatrical releases. Still, I hope there's enough variety to keep your attention. Certainly some choices will be controversial, though Groggy's never shied away from pissing people off.
With one exception, I restrict both lists to first-time viewings only.
I expected The Avengers to be a cynical, jerry-rigged blockbuster. Okay, in outline form it is: four Marvel superheroes (plus two "normal" sidekicks) team up to battle an alien menace. But Joss Whedon transcends blockbuster expectations with a witty screenplay and sharp characterization. The stars play off each other marvelously, and even the requisite CGI bombast proves exciting. It's the best superhero film in ages, easily topping the convoluted Dark Knight Rises and lame-o Spider-Man reboot.
Peter Weir's eerie think piece registered much stronger on a re-watch. It's undeniably a frustrating film, from its thinly-sketched characters to its elliptical storyline with its unresolved conclusion. But the unique aesthetics, from the ethereal photography and dreamy score to Weir's indescribable frisson of supernatural menace, are indescribably seductive.
Winston Churchill's favorite movie remains a top-notch melodrama. Alexander Korda perfectly couches the doomed romance of Admiral Nelson and Lady Hamilton within the Napoleonic Wars, crafting each angle with due respect. Laurence Olivier and Vivien Leigh parlay their real-life marriage into one of cinema's most glamorous couples.
Sidney Lumet could earn four spots on this list: Dog Day Afternoon, Equus and The Pawnbroker are all superb. I chose Serpico for its mix of righteous anger and rich characterization. Al Pacino is an eccentric cop who loves ballet and dresses like a hippie, yet proves the straightest arrow in a hopelessly corrupt NYPD. You'll be rooting for him even in a seemingly-lost cause.
John Schlesinger's low-key character study is among his best work. Beyond its straightforward portrayal of a bisexual love triangle, Sunday succeeds as a slice of life drama, helped by a trio of marvelous stars: Peter Finch, Glenda Jackson and Murray Head. It's that most pleasant cinematic surprise: no action, little directorial flash, just a well-told, engrossing story.
William Wellman's distaff Western is an oater unlike any other. Its gritty, straightforward narrative resembles Wellman's war picture Battleground, depicting a wagon party's westward passage as an attritional battle against the elements, Indians and each other. It scores points, too, for its mostly female cast, with Denise Darcel, Hope Emerson and Julie Bishop (among others) proving hardy, unglamorous frontier gals.
Basil Dearden's social drama was genuinely groundbreaking. Dirk Bogarde plays a closeted barrister forced to confront his sexuality when an ex-lover commits suicide - and when he's targeted by blackmailers. Dearden couches its heart-wrenching message (homosexuality was then illegal in the UK) within a thrilling detective story. With lots of class actors, moody photography and complex plotting, Victim holds up far better than any Stanley Kramer film.
A wonderfully unique historical epic, chronicling Sir Richard Burton and John Hanning Speke's harrowing exploration of the Nile. Bob Rafaelson provides expected genre thrills, with exciting action, culture shock and ravishing vistas worthy of David Lean.But Mountains works best as a psychodrama, with Patrick Bergen and Iain Glenn brilliantly mismatched as two explorers whose friendship sours into tragic rivalry.
A Matter of Life and Death might be The Archers' best work. This marvelously inventive fantasy, contrasting a dour, monochrome Heaven with a verdant, Technicolor England, rates high on technical merits alone. But it's the warmhearted humanism, from a charming cast (David Niven, Kim Hunter, Marius Goring, Roger Livesley) to the simple message of universal love, that makes Powell & Pressburger's achievement so special.
Steven Spielberg's best "serious" film. Far from a stolid biopic, Lincoln is a sophisticated political drama mixing wry humor, sharp characterizations (thanks Tommy Lee Jones and James Spader!) and refreshing historical insight. At its center is Daniel Day-Lewis, giving a phenomenal portrayal of our greatest, yet least-understood President. This movie deserves every award coming its way.
I watched some abominable crap this year, yet some bad movies are just ordinarily bad. Where's the fun in picking on Leprechaun Back 2 Tha Hood or Grizzly? No, we'll go after films that are offensively, audaciously bad, egregiously rubbing their failings in your face.
This whale of a flop earns a spot for its laughably outsized ambition. Grizzly at least knows it's a chintzy Jaws knock-off. Producer Dino De Laurentiis seriously thought he could top Steven Spielberg's fish tale. Not with weeping orca eyes, bloody whale fetuses and cetaceans blowing up an entire town he can't. All that plus Richard Harris at his hammiest! Yet it's not the worst post-Jaws creature feature on this list...
How on Earth is a spy movie starring Burt Lancaster, Alain Delon and Paul Scofield boring? For a start, it's directed by uber-hack Michael Winner. Then there's a story long on cliches and short on suspense. Finally, populate that with nonsensical action and characters without discernible motivation. Paul Scofield emerges unscathed because, well, he's Paul Scofield. Lancaster and Delon aren't so lucky.
Whatever cheese he's produced, John Milius forever earns a pass for The Wind and the Lion. Yet even the Raisuli couldn't save Farewell to the King, which plays like Lord Jim re-envisioned by a 14 year old. Besides shamelessly cribbing from Lawrence of Arabia and penning laughably overwrought dialogue (LEOROYD AM I!!!!), Milius encourages Nick Nolte to engulf scenery like a famished Gary Busey. No wonder Nigel Havers and James Fox seem like they'd rather be in another movie - any other movie.
George Clooney relates the astounding message that American politics is corrupt and soul-destroying. This will shock viewers who haven't turned on a TV in the past two years. Everyone else will be bored stiff by the cliched story, flat characters and complete lack of drama. Politics has never been so dull. 6. Batman Forever (1995, Joel Schumacher)
Say what you will about Batman & Robin: that misbegotten monstrosity has the camp factor of Batnipples and Arnold Schwarzenegger instructing us to "always winterize your pipes!" It's a cool party indeed compared to Batman Forever, a bafflingly serious mess which mixes the mis-en-scene of video poker with the commercial savvy of a Happy Meal. You know something's wrong when Jim Carey is much, much less annoying than Tommy Lee Jones.
The 1939 Four Feathers is an all-time great adventure movie, still enjoyable for its thrilling battle scenes and glorious Technicolor. Shekhar Kapur's revisionist take is Exhibit A of why people hate remakes. A.E.W. Mason's tale of colonial derringdo becomes a stentorian P.C. whine fest, featuring Heath Ledger as a simpering git who wanders aimlessly into the Sudanese desert and achieves nothing. Two hours cleaning the litter box would be better spent.
Joe Wright deviates from soporific, Keira Knightley-starring literary adaptations with this over-baked mess. A film featuring a pubescent girl assassin could be entertaining, if Saorise Ronan showed a hint of emotion and Wright weren't spinning the camera like an overloaded dryer. On the plus side, there is Cate Blanchett's hilarious Peggy Hill impression! Thankfully, with Anna Karenina Wright's returned to movies that can be safely slept through.
Talk about misplaced priorities. A mutant bear movie should be scary right? Too bad John Frankenheimer spends most of this interminable film lecturing us about environmentalism, corporate greed, Indian rights, urban squalor and abortion, boring us to tears long before the monster shows up. Then this happens:
A Tudor film from the director of Independence Day ought to have raised alarm bells. Besides butchering history beyond recognition (Shakespeare's plays were penned by an incestuous nobleman), it trades cohesive storytelling for a lurid, nonsensical conspiracy plot that makes Oliver Stone seem cogent. And no Mr. Day After Tomorrow, swooping CGI camera angles and pointless flashbacks don't make you an auteur.
After 9/11, three Middle Eastern wars and economic collapse, late '90s angst films (Fight Club, Magnolia) now seem like narcissistic whining. Sam Mendes's American Beauty with its Best Picture Oscar takes the cake.Ostensibly a satire of middle class America, its intellectual onanism proves insufferable. What's more offensive: celebrating loathsome creeps as embodiments of personal expression; pedophilia postulated as sexual awakening; or an empty paper bag framed as profundity? Either this movie's aged terribly or was never good in the first place. It's definitely infuriating garbage.
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Thanks to my loyal readers for another year of great blogging! New reviews coming soon.
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