a few of the best movies i have seen

basically i'm going to briefly detail an undetermined number of films that i really think you should see, updating at fairly frequent intervals. i don't imagine many of you will care, but i've never really had an opportunity to write seriously about film, a medium i have a distinct passion for. feel free to discuss, ask questions, etc. most of the picks are going to be pretty recent.

movies listed so far:
nashville (1975)
in the bedroom (2001)
oldboy (2003)
twentynine palms (2003)
boys don't cry (1999)
la notte (1961)
cure (1997)
chinatown (1974)
american psycho (2000)
my summer of love (2004)
the brown bunny (2003)
dead ringers (1988)
last days (2005)
vital (2004)

Nashville (1975)



I know this word gets thrown around a lot but I think it applies. Nashville is the quintessential ensemble picture, representative of a phase of freelance filmmaking that has long been extinct. The movie intertwines the lives of various people in Nashville - to be more specific, the booming country music scene. There is less an emphasis on plot than the characters and the fights, confusion, love triangles, etc. they find themselves embroiled in. One of the most powerful scenes involves a husband and wife singing duo having a heated argument over the latter’s infidelity and deciding they should no longer be together, only to be interrupted by an interview appointment and forced to pretend they are still an item. This is an example of that rare moment where the acting ceases to be acting and becomes something greater: living.

In the Bedroom (2001)



Once in awhile, a movie comes along that completely re-ignites your passion for the medium. In the Bedroom did it for me. This is perhaps the greatest portrait of familial grief ever made – think of it as Million Dollar Baby minus the shameless manipulation. There is a biting poignancy in the middle section unparalleled by any other film. Todd Field’s direction captures all the right subtleties and renders the ending powerfully distant and morally ambiguous.

Oldboy (2003)



Note: I wrote this as part of an article for newspaper class.

Bloody revenge sagas such as Kill Bill and The Punisher have enjoyed considerable success in the States. Oldboy puts a distinct South Korean spin on the genre. Awarded the Grand Jury Prize at the 2004 Cannes Film Festival (second only to the Palm D’Or, which Michael Moore took home for Fahrenheit 9/11), head judge and Kill Bill director Quentin Tarantino showered praise on the film.
The plot is creative, to say the least: one rainy night a drunken man named Oh Dae-su is mysteriously imprisoned in a seedy hotel room, leaving behind a wife and daughter. Subsisting entirely on a diet of fried dumplings, he learns everything he needs to know through television (including being framed for his wife’s murder) and trains relentlessly for a confrontation with his captor that may never happen. He is released—after fifteen years—on top of a skyscraper with a cell phone and a fat wallet. Having been denied human contact for so long, he quickly falls for a young sushi chef at a nearby restaurant. While there he is contacted by phone and told he has five days to find the reason for his imprisonment; otherwise, grave consequences will be impelled. Several confounding twists and two frenetic action sequences lead up to an emotionally devastating final half hour. The explanation is far-fetched but effective enough to make Oldboy the ultimate revenge picture.

Twentynine Palms (2003)



Twentynine Palms basically depicts a couple – an American photographer and a beautiful French woman – as they scout out shooting locations in a harsh desert. This entails lots of Hummer usage, lots of fighting, and lots of graphic makeup sex. If not for the constant lure of the latter, this would make for a pretty boring movie. Then again, it’s apparent that this is philosopher turned director Bruno Dumont’s intention. The film raises many interesting questions concerning the nature of masculinity and the banality of relationships – and, judging from the director interview on the DVD, a lot more I simply cannot comprehend. While certainly not the first to do so, Twentynine Palms tosses out narrative and traditional structure in order to strip the shots and actors down to their bare essentials. Because everything seems so real, the incredibly brutal final fifteen minutes is equivalent to a hard punch in the stomach.

Boys Don't Cry (1999)



The acting is what makes this movie so powerful. Peter Saarsgard deserved an Oscar nomination.

La Notte (1961)



Lidia: "When I awoke this morning, you were still asleep. As I awoke I heard your gentle breathing. I saw your closed eyes beneath wisps of stray hair and I was deeply moved. I wanted to cry out, to wake you, but you slept so deeply, so soundly. In the half light you skin gloved with life so warm and sweet. I wanted to kiss it, but I was afraid to wake you. I was afraid of you awake in my arms again. Instead, I wanted something no one could take from me, mine alone... this eternal image of you. Beyond your face I saw a pure, beautiful vision showing us in the perspective of my whole life... all the years to come, even all the years past."

Giovanni: Who wrote that?

Lidia: You did.

Cure (1997)



Say what you will about Kiyoshi Kurosawa, but this fact is undeniable: the man knows how to frame a shot. Perhaps the most memorable scene in his 2001 horror slash philosophical treatise Kairo involves a girl climbing to the top of a water tower and abruptly jumping off. The image is unforgettable due to the manner in which it is presented: the camera focuses on an attractive teenage girl who occupies the left hand corner of the frame. The viewer is not even aware that there is another girl in the distance until a piercing scream is heard and her slender figure plummets.
Jarring moments like this abound in Cure, the fledgling director’s first breakthrough hit. The story revolves around a cunning killer with powers of hypnosis and the troubled detective trying to stop him. This is one of the most deeply psychological thrillers I have seen. You start to wonder if maybe the director is playing tricks on you as the spectator. Many actions are suggested then proved false the next scene. Or are they?
No jump scares are present for the entire duration. But there are many creepy, unnerving sequences mixed with the occasional splash of horrific violence. The final scene is a masterpiece of restraint.

Chinatown (1974)

American Psycho (2000)



Can you say "cult classic?" Christian Bale's stunning performance carries the movie completely, though the story ain't bad either.

My Summer of Love (2004)



Pawel Pawlikowski’s My Summer of Love captures the beautiful, fleeting nature of teenage romance through a dreamy visual style and realistic performances from the two female leads. It is a testament to the director’s skill that despite the all-consuming joy and passion that arises from the girls’ relationship, there is always a vague undercurrent of dread running throughout. This is, after all, only a summer of a love.
Emily Blunt’s seductive turn as rich girl Tamsin drives the succinct 87-minute movie. Her seemingly preoccupied facial expressions mask the rampant manipulation that boils beneath. Nathalie Press also deserves kudos for accurately conveying the tumultuous emotions that occur when you discover your first flame.
Their love was real; unfortunately, it meant different things for both of them.

The Brown Bunny (2003)



Just to clarify, The Brown Bunny isn’t really one of the best movies I’ve seen but it’s good nonetheless and I feel it makes a fitting companion piece to Twentynine Palms. Like that movie, director Vincent Gallo fills much of the 90-minute running length with absurdly long scenes of nothingness. Twentynine Palms used this technique to emphasize the loneliness of people when they’re together. The Brown Bunny does this to emphasize the loneliness of people when they’re, well, alone. I could easily create something similar by filming myself as I drove to faraway places and setting those shots to depressing folk music. However, there is a terribly impressive artistry to the non-driving sequences that makes up for this fact. When Gallo’s character Bud Clay convinces a bored gas station clerk to go to California with him, we believe it. Gallo conveys Bud’s quiet, soft-spoken nature effortlessly – we see what it is that attracts women to him. Therefore, it’s all the more startling when Bud drops the girl off at her house to pick up her things, kisses her and reassures her, then takes off as soon as she is out of sight. This small scene speaks volumes about Bud’s character. He is smitten with the girl but afraid of the commitment involved in starting a relationship. At the end of the movie, we discover the reason for his hesitation.
If you’ve heard of the movie, you likely know about the notorious scene that concludes it. I agree with the general consensus that it is unnecessary. But it is certainly more disturbing and depressing than arousing.
Overall, The Brown Bunny is one of the better, braver portraits of love, lust, and isolation to arise in recent years. The emotional rawness makes the few indulgent bits forgivable. One thing is for certain: no one but Gallo would have dared to make this movie.

Dead Ringers (1988)



Really, it’s a toss-up between The Fly and Dead Ringers for my favorite David Cronenberg film (note I have not seen Shivers, Fast Company, Rabid, or M. Butterfly). The Fly certainly features more of that trademark Cronenberg imagery and arguably marked the Canadian director’s first emotionally compelling work – though I will admit The Dead Zone came close. However, Dead Ringers was a significant departure from his past and therefore has a slight edge in my book. Loosely based on the true story of twin gynecologists who worked together in the early 80s, Cronenberg injects his own flavor into the material without compromising it via copious amounts of gruesome bodily horror. Such diversions simply aren’t needed as the performances speak for themselves. In an Oscar-deserving turn, Jeremy Irons flawlessly plays both twins while giving each a distinct personality. Much like he did with 2002’s Spider, Cronenberg lavishes detail on the psychological rather than physical aspect of the story to wonderful, haunting effect.

Last Days (2005)



The conclusion to Gus Van Sant’s informal “death” trilogy, which included the equally divisive Gerry (2002) and Elephant (2003), may well be the best of the bunch. Here he has viewers examine the last days of a musician named Blake who looks and acts an awful lot like Kurt Cobain. Michael Pitt’s portrayal is eerily accurate; there were times when I became convinced I was watching Cobain himself shuffling around onscreen in a listless stupor. Essentially, aimlessness is what comprises the movie’s 90 minutes: an extremely out-of-it young man wanders through a vast forest mumbling incoherently and later returns to his enormous home to don a woman’s dress, avoid his groupies (and vice versa), and play some music – not necessarily in that order. One event, of course, is easy to place within the tangled timeframe: at the end he will enter a garden shed and off himself. For a movie about the destructive effects of heroin addiction, there is surprisingly little drug use to be found. Instead we see the impact through Pitt’s sullen, often poignant mannerisms. Here is a man no longer capable of human interaction, not so much living as existing, able to express his anguish only through music. But that was not enough.