(My) Best of 2011: Picture

10. Meek's Cutoff

Kelly Reichardt's revisionist Western was the greatest political movie of 2011. Combining post-feminist theories with a clear questioning of the Obama administration, the film used a historical event to sketch a very accurate portrait of the current state of America. Bruce Greenwood gives a brilliant performance as the charming Stephen Meek, a pioneering explorer leading three families to new territories, who refuses to acknowledge the fact that he has lost his way and is dragging them along to perdition. The film's ambiguous finale, made all the more fascinating because it happened due to budget problems, actually works as an unintentional but poignant reflection of a world economy that is making freedom of expression a luxury.

9. The Tree of Life

For decades, Terrence Malick has been one of the very few working artists who has proved to be in utter and complete awe of our planet and its creation. Instead of following the path of other filmmakers who more and more try to conceal their characters from nature or others who altogether decide to move their stories to different planets, Malick preserves an utmost spirit of wonderment. He is fascinated with the process of "creation" which usually gives his movies a Christian feel. However, in The Tree of Life he reminds us that atonement has little to do with organized religion and more with unity, at-one-ment. His movie might seem like a dream comprised of dinosaurs, abusive parents and traumas, but judging from the way in which one reacts to it, it's more similar to mystical ecstasy than facile psychology.

8. Drive

Nicolas Winding Refn's neon-noir work of art was a refreshing take on the mythical figure of the American cowboy, who has now moved to the city and remains as mysterious and unbreakable as ever. The visionary director makes his hero, a questionable figure who has to deal with common things like working for a living but it still happens to be ruled by a strict moral code that separates him from other mortals. As portrayed by Ryan Gosling, the nameless Driver is a figure we can admire, fear and lust after. If Refn was trying to make a point about the way we project our desires onto others, he does it while stimulating both our intellect and injecting us with adrenaline. The action sequences in the film have a strange beauty that might not send us flying off our seats with thrills, but stir thoughts within us, similar to what modern art does. Like Mulholland Dr. the film was also a critique to the Hollywood way of life, with Refn both reveling in the artifice of Los Angeles and reveling its polished decay. With its spare dialogues and bright colors, it's as if someone loaded Tarantino on Xanax and asked him to make a 70s Clint Eastwood vehicle using Michael Mann's aesthetic sensibilities.  

7. Certified Copy

Nowadays, it's rarely a joy to encounter a movie that foregoes all notions of traditional plot in order to explore the world of ideas. Most movies that try to do this end up confusing intellectualism with bullshitting and rely on facile tricks to convince us about their intelligence. Abbas Kiarostami's Certified Copy ought to change that because it finds unbearably touching humanity in a fascinating intellectual essay. Wondering what makes something a "copy" he explores the notions of creation and recreation by using people. Kiarostami could've easily turned his characters into puppets used to channel a message, but like a generous god he provides them with a soul. If only all philosophy was this richly realized...

6. Shame

It's strange to think of it, but the one thing the characters in this movie never seem to feel is actual shame. Michael Fassbender plays a man with a destructive sexual addiction and Carey Mulligan plays his alcoholic and equally chaotic sister. The siblings live in NYC and seem to have carved a personal playground of pain under the city's stars. Other directors could've shamed their characters and reduce them to morally acceptable examples, but Steve McQueen merely observes them and lets them be. The film is filled with scenes of utmost loss and despair but they are treated with such delicate bluntness that we have no choice but to try and empathize with these people. The film's most poignant scene has the siblings watch a cartoon on TV and for a moment it seems like they've found peace. Even if it alludes to the origin of all our problems in our childhood, it also achieves a mystical connection that resembles time travel.

5. Martha Marcy May Marlene

The year's most astonishing debut had Sean Durkin revisit the dreamlike aesthetics of 70s movies while giving Elizabeth Olsen the richest female role of 2011. The film deals with the trappings of a cult and the consequences their practices have on believers. But besides pointing out the perils of submitting yourself to the will of others, the film draws a fascinating parallel line that studies fact and fiction, the way in which we are our own creators and how we can build entire worlds to fit our needs. The title protagonist isn't merely complex because she can become so many different people, she's fascinating because she evokes the never ending process of creation; we are never sure how many people she has been and how many people she will be. The film's technical achievements were unusually inventive and helped the director transmit paranoia in open spaces, making nature both a witness of our distress and an eternal perpetrator of evil.

4. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Who would've guessed that director David Fincher would craft his most personal movie to date from a pulpy bestseller? The way in which he grabbed the story of hacker Lisbeth Salander and ruined journalist Mikael Blomkvist and turned it into an exhilarating conversation with god, was a perfect reminder that art was invented to connect us to what we couldn't explain. Sure, the film succeeds as a fantastic, exciting thriller (something its Swedish predecessor did with just as much efficiency but without the aesthetic grace) but it works at its best when Fincher leads us past the plot twists and points out the fact that we all hide skeletons in our closets, our collection of personal experiences becoming a cabinet of horrors and wonders alike.
That he allowed Lisbeth to dream of love speaks highly of the director's humanistic side, that just as easily he  takes illusion away from her, speaks of his ruthlessness as a creator.

3. Midnight in Paris

Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris was a surprise because it proved for once and for all, that its maker is one of the few artists blessed with the ability to rejuvenate himself when least expected. How can he keep on finding beauty in subjects he's dealt with constantly for more than four decades? How is it that his movies always seem to be about the same things and each time we find ourselves enthralled by their deep wisdom? His love song to Paris and some of his heroes is a remarkably enjoyable piece that pretty much fulfilled whoever saw it. Like enjoying a rich, perfect dessert, the film pleased and delighted without overwhelming the palate, every time it left you wanting more.

2. Melancholia

The end of the world has never been treated with the delicacy Lars von Trier presents it with in Melancholia. Coming from the ode to chaos that was Antichrist it would've been easy to assume that the director had definitely entered a period of complete darkness, for how does once descend into such hell and come back unscathed? Like mythical heroes, von Trier not only emerged from the underworld alive, he came out with a new sense of appreciation for the beauty in life. His movie about the end of the world is tragic yes, but within the deep pain portrayed by his actors and the precision of his almost operatic conduction (he finds a beauty in chaos that people like Michael Bay and Roland Emmerich only dream of  achieving) there is something breathtakingly beautiful. He does not relish in making others suffer this time, instead he seems to be for the first time looking at death right in the eyes and embracing the sense of peace found in its irreversible finality.

1. Weekend

There are romances with repercussions that resonate for as long as we live. Said romances usually end before we are ready to give them up. Without us being aware of the fact that we are living something that will establish a "before and after" in our existence, we then discover we revisit these moments forever and they most likely will accompany us to our deathbed. Then, there are movies that deal with these romances. Movies like Casablanca, Lost in Translation, The Way We Were, Brief Encounter...all of which talk of love that was, love that is and love that will forever be. Like said romances, we also find ourselves revisiting these movies in our dreams more often than we'd like to. Can it be that we all harbor a secretly masochist hopeless romantic within? Or is it that real life never fulfills what art promised? Both could be answers that come to mind while watching Andrew Haigh's Weekend, this miniature masterpiece is a lovely exercise in style, execution and transcendence. The way in which the director enters the lives of two men who fall in love over a weekend, is nothing if not exceptional. Haigh has such eye for detail that we have to ask ourselves if this wasn't taken straight from one of his memories, watch how lived in the spaces feel, how effortlessly the actors live within these characters...the magic in Weekend is that it doesn't really feel like a movie, it feels like we're witnessing real life, things happening right in front of us. Where it could've been political, the film forgoes the dynamics of homosexuality and instead focuses on the complexities of humanity. Instead of concentrating on representing specific concepts and conceptions, the film aims to address our hearts without forgetting our minds. If you find yourself thinking about Weekend long after you've seen it, you will understand what the characters felt. The movie sometimes becomes too painful to watch, its simplicity bordering dangerously on docudrama without reducing itself to the tackiness of reality shows. However like a failed romance, there is much more to gain from the movie, than the idea of not having it in your life. To watch this movie is to witness love itself being invented. The precision of its storytelling, a reminder that like everything else, love too must fade. The dreamlike quality of its urban spaces an invitation for us to pursue it no matter what.

(My) Best of 2011: Director

5. Andrew Haigh for Weekend

What Andrew Haigh does with his camera in Weekend defies the cinematic idea of intimacy, because we forever wonder: how did he get his actors to become so unaware that they were playing characters and were being filmed? Not even pornographic films, which are supposed to be chronicling moments of complete intimacy, are able to make us feel like we're invited to the party. The way in which he managed to get the equipment and crew inside Russell's (Tom Cullen) little apartment from example at some point or another would've demanded that we became aware of the limitations imposed to movement. However this never happens, all along we're meant to feel not like voyeurs but like guests. Whether Haigh invited us to make us more aware of social causes or merely because he wanted to give us a taste of what falling in love feels like, he is always leading us without us feeling directed. He finds sublimity in the subtle.

4. David Fincher for The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Who would've guessed that David Fincher would craft his most personal movie to date, from an international best-seller which had already been turned into a movie? His take on The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo isn't only a procedural thriller, but an open dialogue with a universe he still doesn't get. If god talked through Terrence Malick in The Tree of Life, Fincher talks through god as he wonders about the way in which the human race has turned the notion of civilization into chaos. Why are the Adams of the world so keen on destroying the essence of the Eves? Why is history so important and yet disregarded with such ease at one's convenience? Why can't nature and progress go hand in hand? Fincher shows us a dark, icy world in which humans have become nothing more but pieces of ice, awaiting a thaw that might just never arrive.

3. Woody Allen for Midnight in Paris

Not since Manhattan had Woody Allen delivered such an endlessly pleasurable work of art. You're thinking The Purple Rose of Cairo or Hannah and her Sisters, right? Yet even those dealt more strongly with deeply melancholic currents of thought. In those movies he questioned the universe, in this one he questions and then seems to find enlightenment in the lack of an answer. His previous effort was a movie that came out with harsh, bitter tones, something acceptable but that reflected awfully because for a moment it teased of a career that would go downhill from there. Perhaps Midnight in Paris resulted so successful because it was a surprise. Not everyone can grab life and find hidden gems among its every day misery in the way Woody can.

2. Sean Durkin for Martha Marcy May Marlene

Not since Joshua Marston's Maria Full of Grace had a feature length debut felt so electrifying and had such subtle "look at me" power. Is it a coincidence that both movies are commanded by strong female characters undergoing extraordinary situations? Perhaps not. The one true thing is that both debuts felt like the work of masters of the art form, only leading us to wonder, how will they ever be able to top this?

1. Lars von Trier for Melancholia

The mad Dane has done it again! After his previous movie which was an undeniable masterpiece, he might've actually gone ahead and delivered the most flawless movie of his already breathtaking oeuvre. His gorgeous Melancholia followed a pattern that was quite common in 2011 films: realizing that the world sucks, that humanity is rotten and that this might all just implode one day, but still they found something beautiful among the decay (see Drive, Midnight in Paris, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Bridesmaids, Shame). What makes Melancholia different from all of these movies is that each and every frame in it shined with the sort of artistry that eludes most filmmakers for as long as they make movies. To see how Lars orchestrates chaos and turns it into a gargantuan opera conformed by sensitive, chilling arias is nothing if not mesmerizing and despite his film's tragic finale, it reassures us that if there is a god, he wouldn't want to destroy a civilization capable of creating such beauty.

(My) Best of 2011: Supporting Actor

5. Kiefer Sutherland in Melancholia

Lars von Trier's movies never seem to give space for his male actors to thrive. More often than not men are "pawns" of sorts in the larger scheme of the female driven universes created by the mad Dane. Just think of the fates of Willem Dafoe in Antichrist and Stellan Skarsgard in Breaking the Waves. Because it's often the women who give the most arresting performances in his movies, it seems that the men are a bit underrated and what he achieves with Kiefer Sutherland in Melancholia should by no means go by unnoticed. Playing the loyal husband of Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg) he divides himself drastically in the movie's two chapters, in the first he has to play a strong head-of-the-house who tries to make his sister-in-law (Kirsten Dunst) understand that despite his affection for her, he is still the, literal, king of his castle. His strong charisma shifts in the latter chapter to give way to a man who quite simply loses all faith in the things that had supported him before: science and love. Watching his destruction parallel to the "larger" events going on might be all the more haunting because Sutherland never allows his character's limitations to prevent him from being completely unforgettable.

4. John Hawkes in Martha Marcy May Marlene

There is something so seductive about John Hawkes in this movie that defies all laws of attraction. Why would anyone want to be with someone who forces them into an alternative but violent cult, constantly rapes you, makes you fall in love with him and then not only ignores you but makes you aid him in finding new lovers? Yet somehow that's what he does as Patrick, in Sean Durkin's remarkable directorial debut. There is something so effortless about the way in which Hawkes movies in front of the camera, something so menacing about the way he looks when he smiles and yet we totally "get" why the title character (Elizabeth Olsen) can't stay away from him for long. This performance must be what they mean by "magnetic".

3. Chris New in Weekend

New is the epitome of alluring in Andrew Haigh's Weekend, what's so remarkable and fascinating about his character and his performance is how completely blasé he seems while harboring an explosive combination of emotions inside. His Glen seems like a free spirit, a bit on the politically incorrect side but the actor goes beyond the confines of the "bohemian" character's traits and finds something rather touching in him. The way in which Glen always seems to be both intensely interested in Russell (Tom Cullen) while wanting to run away, punches you right in the gut in the most unexpected moments. His line deliveries are magical and there's no way you would be able to say no to having him tape your sexual history. On a shallow note - which somehow adds to the constant wonderment of his performance - never expected him to be the top.

2. Bruce Greenwood in Meek's Cutoff

There is very little information on who Stephen Meek was exactly, yet what Bruce Greenwood does in Kelly Reichardt's revisionist western feels as if someone found a time machine and brought the legendary explorer back to life. Greenwood is practically unrecognizable behind the shaggy beard and oversized hat that Meek wears and his performance may lack the "excitement" associated with playing historical figures. Yet perhaps because the actor had a pretty much empty canvas to portray the character as he found fit, he comes up with a thing of true beauty, creating a harsh, soulless creature that demands your attention and always ends up winning your favor. No other performance in 2011 captured the "rock star"-ness of current politics like this one, he reminded us that we're living in a world where politicians need only but to charm us before we are willing to get lost in the labyrinth of their lies.

1. Corey Stoll in Midnight in Paris


It must be telling that while Woody Allen has abstained of tackling biopics or historical characters throughout his legendary career, several of his fictitious creations seem to take on a life of their own outside the realms of his movies. Try convincing people that Zelig wasn't a real being, that you can't find Emmet Ray albums in record stores or that Hannah and her sisters don't actually live somewhere in NYC... It was a real surprise then to see him explore some of the most famous artists of the 20th century in his enchanting Midnight in Paris, which not only resulted in the best movie he's done in over twenty years but also reminded us of the Woodsman's more playful side. Allen has always tried to represent and preserve his personal tastes through his movies and it makes sense that the ones in Paris are some of his all-time favorites, what's remarkable is how he manages to give them their own life while imprinting the Woody Allen touch on them. Best in show is Corey Stoll who fills the screen with testosterone and bravado playing none other than Ernest Hemingway. Even when he's reciting passages of Hemingway's life adjusted to the straightforward nature of his writing, Stoll gives the legend a suspicious earthy feeling. No scenes in the movie feel as alive as those that feature him and the way he always looks into the horizon as if both recalling specifics and planning his next masterpiece will certainly leave you wanting more.

Sheet-y Saturday.

Where we take a look at posters for upcoming features.

I don't know how I feel about the idea of the movie itself but I am digging their use of the iconic logo, also using the song as tagline is genius, which only makes me wonder...if they're relying on the original one's elements so much, why the hell was an update even necessary?

I would give my arm to see this movie ASAP! I've heard only wonderful things about it and this Chungking Express inspired poster just makes me want to hug the idea of watching it!

Can this movie please open today? Got to love how well they're using the floating heads to show us the range of emotions the actors will provide (this is an entire FYC campaign in the making!).

The use of colors is remarkable and it reveals a bit how the film isn't a full on drama. Extra points for Jodie's faces. That smile is still as captivating as it was in 1976.

So, dying to cut loose some carnage this weekend? (Hardy har har) No really, which of these posters make you go gaga?