2009 / Richard Kelly > As a kid, I was pretty obsessed with classic Twilight Zone episodes. They were all about possibility and imagination, about the world that may be out there without us knowing. Kelly, after his commercial fuck-up in Southland Tales, pastes on Cameron Diaz and brings forth The Box, which, in the most positive way possible, is a feature length version of a 1950s Twilight Zone episode. With a bigger budget allowing for a fully realized and more refined production process, the film allows us to enter the mindset of mid-century America with fears of the Cold War. Except, of course, there are more sinister things in the air than Communists. There’s some level of campiness involved here, no doubt, but if one can accept that as part of the experience, this is an unpretentious sci-fi treat not often found in today’s cinema.
Moon
2009 / Duncan Jones > When it comes to modern science-fiction, there’s nothing worse than predictability. Problematically, science-fiction, in itself, is a derivative art. It takes into effect what’s already around us and extrapolates those objects and ideas into the future. Unfortunately, cinematic conventions are often one of those things. You can argue that much of the last decade’s laziness can be attributed to the endings of The Usual Suspects and The Sixth Sense. Their success pigeonholed lesser-known directors into formulas that were known to work. This has led to a barrage of films, including many in the science-fiction genre, to become innocuous, even lame.
Once upon a time, someone told me the reason they loved Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was because it infused everything that Chinese cinema had been built on for the last half-century and refined it into one final product. And so enters Duncan Jones, mimicking that approach of Ang Lee and creating Moon as a appreciative hurrah for the genre. In the process, he does one thing very, very well: Playing with expectations. Everytime I thought I knew what was going on, one of two things happened: It didn’t, or it happened immediately instead of at the end as a final twist. Without going into plot details, Sam Rockwell has a run-in with another Sam Rockwell early in the film. Who is the second Sam Rockwell? Even if you think you know, you don’t. And that’s the beauty of it.
Aside from Jones, Rockwell stands out as one of the best performances of the year. He won’t get an Oscar nod, but cultists will appreciate this work for a long time to come. Add in Clint Mansell’s techno-tragic soundtrack and newcomer Gary Shaw’s awesome cinematography, and you have the recipe for one of the best films of 2009.
Mary and Max
2009 / Adam Elliot > Elliot got on the radar screen with an Oscar for his oddball, tragic figure of Harvie Krumpet in 2003. Mary and Max, his feature debut, stars a core cast of Toni Collette and Philip Seymour Hoffman, the latter especially nailing his part as a middle-aged man with undiagnosed Asperger’s living in New York in the mid-70s. The former, a pre-teen girl lacking friends and beauty, becomes his penpal from the suburbs of Melbourne. And that’s where normalized expectations take a nosedive. The story has a lot of minor twists and turns, mostly idiosyncratic, running the thin line between quirkdom and absurdity. Had it remained a simpler story that ended in the finality of eventual happiness, it would have wasted its build-up with a sort of banal comedown. But Elliot hits a couple of heartstrings in interpreting his opinion of those who “suffer” from Asperger’s (and subsequently, a lot of other similar perceived ills): Never assume they are worse off than you, and never assume they need your help. Elliot drives this simple message home without insulting the viewer, and for that alone, the man (as well as his film) should be commended.
The Damned United
2009 / Tom Hooper > Contrary to most expectations, this isn’t about Manchester United. It’s about the United that used to be the talk of the show before Alex Ferguson paid off the referees: Leeds. Starring Michael Sheen, whose performances in The Queen and Frost/Nixon has made me believe he’s one of the most under-appreciated actors of today (even before discounting Underworld), The Damned United tells the story of Brian Clough, a cocky, hot-headed manager who takes Derby County and Nottingham Forest to the highest levels of football. The whole show is completely and utterly enjoyable, especially if you’re appreciate the competitiveness present in professional sports. The interplay between Sheen and his fellow actors, including an especially swell performance by Timothy Spall (of Wormtail in Harry Potter fame) is especially touching. Walking away, it does feel a bit too neat at the end. Hard to fault Hooper for his choice of time period to portray, but some things (like Clough leading Nottingham Forest to back to back Champions League wins) feel too important to leave out at the same time.
Zombieland
2009 / Ruben Fleischer > Two things in short: Yes, it’s fun to watch, and the cameo is absolutely fantastic. The best in movies since Tropic Thunder. And no, it’s not as good as Shaun of the Dead. That film was ingenious, blending the zombie genre with a type of self-heckling comedy that created something memorable. Instead, Zombieland holds the handrails a bit too close, never really flourishing beyond a louder version of what’s already been done. For that, it maintains its own ground though never matching the charm of Simon Pegg’s vehicle.
Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen
2009 / Michael Bay > I’ve been suckered: I was told there was no story, that it was a bunch of explosions, that they exploited Megan Fox’s body. Well, it’s not like I was lied to: It really is based around explosions, not to mention very strategic placement of Megan Fox and her navel. But both of those points simply added to my enjoyment. As for no story? That’s a bit harsh. It had more story than the original, and decent enough in its own right that I wouldn’t fault it. It’s Transformers 2. Directed by Michael Bay. Who, I’m convinced now more than ever, is the most brilliant director in Hollywood today when it comes to making stuff explode. I liked Bad Boys, even the sequel, and I loved The Rock. All snobbishness aside, you can’t help but respect the man for his vision and ability. What he does is not easy to do, regardless of what the perception may be. Remind me the last time you saw something like Devastator climb the Pyramids of Giza. That doesn’t happen overnight. If I was Egypt, there are probably two directors in the world I’d let film there: One is Steven Spielberg, and the other is Michael Bay. And folks, that’s some massive street cred. Wonder what he’ll blow up in Transformers 3…
Gigante
2009 / Adrian Biniez > Garnering quite a bit of love at the Berlinale this year, Biniez’s debut is definitely one of the more light-hearted approaches to the loner’s guide to stalking and potentially getting the girl. Thematically, you expect dark twists in these films, because, let’s face it, that’s what we’re used to, and sometimes that’s the kind of tragedy that satiates our yearning for heartache. But while the approach here is definitely fresher, I can’t help justify it as a feature-length film. It didn’t click for me as I would have expected, even though I liked most of the ideas present. The problem may be that I didn’t need sixty minutes of character development because you could tell in the first ten minutes what kind of a guy we were dealing with. This is also, in many ways, the absolute antithesis to Observe and Report, and while it had potential, it lacked any sort of real hook for further appreciation.
Blood: The Last Vampire
2009 / Chris Nahon > Tragically boring. When you’ve got the confluence of vampires, live-action anime and Korean megastar Jeon Ji-Hyun’s English-language debut, you expect at least something. Not necessarily storytelling or character development, but at least lots of awesome fights and maybe some skin. But there too, Blood fails. What a terrible intro to Gianna Jun (as she’ll be known stateside), who gained much of her fame through her hard-knock, lovable lead in the rom-com sensation My Sassy Girl. The lack of adequate roles for well-known Asian actresses continue to leapfrog their abilities, and unless you count Gong Li’s serviceable turn as a half-Chinese, half-Cuban drug-mama in Miami Vice, the category continues to remain empty and shameful.
Breathless
2009 / Yang Ik-joon > Raw, brutal and absolutely beautiful. When the star/director Yang came out and said, “Fuck the Korean film industry,” he meant it. Since 2005, Korean cinema has forgotten what made it so fantastic. It dared to do things global cinema was failing at. Whether it was the entirely unconventional roots of Shin Ha-kyun’s alien catcher in Save the Green Planet, the magical romance in My Sassy Girl or the twist of a lifetime in Oldboy, it’s been a long time since the country’s put forth anything worthy of conversation. Well, this is it: Not since Gary Oldman’s underappreciated Nil by Mouth have we seen domestic violence treated with this kind of uncompromising passion. And while passion may not seem like a word to describe a film of unabashed violence, it’s hard to argue that the violence of man is founded on a kind of ignorant, blind intensity that leads him to do things that don’t always make sense. Sometimes he doesn’t understand it himself until it’s too late. Breathless is that kind of film, where things happens as you would expect them to, no holds barred. Its anger is saddening but organic. There is no sentimentality, just the force of raw energy that devours all of us. The heart stirs immensely in this one, and if it doesn’t, I’d be hard pressed not to send you to the doctor to make sure you’re still ticking.
Mammoth
2009 / Lukas Moodysson > Did Inarritu ghost-direct this? It’s got Babel-lite all over it. The whole thing is so predictable, so messy, so amateur, I’m frankly a bit troubled. Maybe Moodysson just wanted to try his angle at the liberal apology for globalization, but this is too shallow and too simplified. As much as I hated A Hole in My Heart, I’d prefer see more risky endeavours than this kind of mediocrity.