Decades of Cinema - 10 Best of the 2000's

If you were curious to check out my previous "Decades" lists and other stuff as well, this link will take you there.

Here are my ten favorites released between the years 2000 and 2009.

10. Oldboy

Gosh, if you haven't seen Oldboy, you should, but let me follow that up with a disclaimer: if the content or the direction the narrative takes proves to be disturbing, please don't come back and blame me. I'm sure this Korean revenge thriller would be too much for some, but it's just right for me.

Also, please, don't watch the recently released Spike Lee U.S. remake before seeing the original. Start with the masterpiece, then decide if you want to compare the two. 

9. Memories of Murder

Let's just stay in South Korea with the incredible based on a true story crime-drama Memories of Murder. This one tells the story of the first ever documented serial killer in the history of the nation, and it is an atmospheric, chilling and flat out great film. Have a South Korean movie night and watch the first two on this list back to back. 

8. Zodiac

From back to back South Korean films to now back to back tales based on truth involving serial killers, notice a theme thus far to my favorite films from this decade? Yes, I like my dark and ominous thrillers. They just tend to work for me, especially when they are as brilliant as David Fincher's Zodiac. 

7. The Dark Knight

We stay in the darkness but with a bit more of a fun flair, moving into the superhero sub-genre with The Dark Knight, although really this is just an epic crime drama masked as a comic book movie. Without a doubt the masterpiece of the Nolan Batman trilogy featuring that already pretty iconic performance from the late Heath Ledger. I recall when The Dark Knight was first released there was a lot of "greatest movie of all time" talk associated with it. Unfortunately I can't go that far, but it certainly is one of the finest achievements of its decade.

6. Children of Men

7 years before he won the Oscar for Best Director for his work on Gravity, Alfonso Cuaron gave the world Children of Men and it is a science fiction thriller that works in every possible way. Written, directed and performed with perfection and that glorious photography from Emmanuel "Chivo" Lubezki, this is a movie that literally, and let me stress that word because when I use it, I use it correctly, LITERALLY gave my wife a panic attack as she watched a battle sequence. 

5. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

This is the moment where people think, oh okay, so three of the top five will be the Lord of the Rings trilogy. No, you may be surprised when one, probably considered the greatest installment by the majority is actually left off the list. The Fellowship of the Ring, however, is a totally worthy epic fantasy adventure, and the trilogy as a whole I revisit every single year when fall rolls around and the weather outside gets brisk. It just feels right.

4. Spirited Away

The attention to detail from Hayao Miyazaki in Spirited Away is breathtaking, arguably not only the defining masterpiece from Studio Ghibli but also in the history of animated cinema. Magical, mystical, haunting and beautiful, You might see this and think, but I can't watch animated movies anymore. I'm an adult. Nonsense. The craft of a Miyazaki should be admired by people of all ages.

3. No Country for Old Men

Surely you saw this one coming, right? I named my blog after it! A flawless film with a perfect conclusion, an ending that angered some but for me it was sublime. No Country for Old Men is a Best Picture winner that was worthy of the award.

2. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

What a glorious example of perfect blockbuster filmmaking. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers has always been and will continue to be my favorite installment in the trilogy, a perfectly paced marvel that feels so damn epic, it's more like an event than a movie. The Battle of Helm's Deep is my favorite sequence in the entire saga, which helps elevate this one to the top.

1. Inglourious Basterds

The second time Quentin Tarantino has held the top spot of a decade for me, and Inglourious Basterds happens to me my second favorite of his work behind only Pulp Fiction. The ultimate revenge story, a grand what if tale involving Nazi's and a woman avenging the brutal deaths of her family members. It's clever, it's funny, it's made with astonishing confidence and as usual it has a screenplay that you could close your eyes and just listen to and still love the experience. A few specific scenes, like one that takes place at a basement bar, are so perfectly executed and so deliciously Tarantino. No one else on the planet could make a scene like that work so damn well.

Next list will be the last, my ten favorite films released between 2010 and now. Might sound like a small, watered down sample size, but trust me...this decade has been pretty incredible, including my favorite film of all time.

Home Review

I have always paid close attention to the box office results of films whether I enjoyed the movie or not, and honestly I never really put a lot of thought into why until now. In some cases it's obvious, when a film I love is ripe material for a sequel but the only way that will happen is thanks to some extra green in the pockets of studio execs, but even when that isn't possible I have always cared.

After watching the new film from Dreamworks Animation Home, and then learning of its thus far successful financial run, I realized that it isn't that I care for that singular films performance, it's that I care about the big picture of the future of cinema. I see articles discussing the fact that the masterful film How To Train Your Dragon 2 disappointed on the business side of things and yet here is Home, a film mired in mediocrity yet it makes the suits in charge smile with glee when the numbers roll in.

So you might be thinking, Scott, why do you care? I care because when a move that reeks of such desperation like making Rihanna the voice of a main character is rewarded, it could change the business model of the studio going forward. She simply was not the right choice if the goal was to make the best possible picture, as her singing ability didn't translate to a talent of giving an animated character any heart or depth. Oh, and there is a scene in which the little girl she voices turns on the car radio, and a Rihanna song is playing. You could practically hear my eyes roll in the theater.

Meanwhile, you have the underutilized natural and often times actually funny performance from Steve Martin, one of the major reasons why I came very close to giving Home a passing grade and a recommendation. When his character Captain Smek was on screen, the film was better for it, and that is unfortunate because he is relegated to being merely a supporting bit outside of the core of the film, which didn't work nearly as well. 

I can't solely pile on to Rihanna as the problem with Home, that would be unfair because in some respects the team of writers and director Tim Johnson did the actors no favors themselves with a rushed, frenetic film that finally decided to take a moment to breathe when it was already too late. The first half or so of Home is just chaos with absolutely no attempts to develop any characters or allow the plot to soak in, and by the time it takes its foot off the gas and strives towards emotional resonance we are still trying to find our footing from everything before it. 

Home isn't a terrible movie by any means, I did honestly have some fun with it. Go ahead and take your kids because I am sure they will enjoy it, lord knows mine did. Hell, you may have a blast as well, but down the road this won't be on the map the way other, far richer experiences from the same or other animation studios have been over recent years. 

How To Train Your Dragon 2 added the incredible vocal talents of Cate Blanchett to the mix and it was a sublime choice, yet the ticket sales of that franchise made the Dreamworks stock price tick down a bit and is thus regarded as a disappointment. Home miscasts Rihanna and it dominates financially, and I literally saw this headline on CNN this morning: 

"Did Rihanna save Dreamworks Animation?"

This is not good news going forward.

2.5/5

Grave of the Fireflies Review

Until my daughter was born, my own death was the scariest thing in the world. 

It's a surreal and almost unacceptable concept, the idea of ones own mortality, and until that life changing day back in October of 2007 it was the most haunting and unsettling thought I could have. When I heard her first cry, when I saw her tiny face and hands and feet, when I held her for the first time, nothing was more beautiful and yet terrifying at the same time. She was a person that would live her life in the same world I had occupied for 23 years at that point, a world full of hate and anger and judgement and bigotry and violence. A world where a day doesn't go by without someone committing unthinkable actions to an innocent life simply trying to go about their day, a final breathe taken but unappreciated because in a just world there would be millions more to follow.

I had only known her for minutes, and yet I was more in love than I had ever been before. Any selfish concerns I had quickly melted away, but what replaced them was even more troubling than before. I was literally holding her precious life in my hands and from that moment forward I have been petrified to let my guard down, to let go and leave her vulnerable to an unforgiving world.

Grave of the Fireflies is one of the greatest efforts in the rich history of Studio Ghibli, and that is saying something. Drop the word animated, it's irrelevant and demeans what I am about to say as it is often times looked upon as inferior to live action cinema. Grave of the Fireflies is one of the greatest war films ever crafted, a true masterpiece in every sense. 

Despite the backdrop of war and the fact that its impact on an entire region is central to the story, at the heart of this film is an intimate tale about two kids trying like hell to survive at a time when doing so is challenging to say the least. Hardly a day goes by without the warning sirens echoing through every corner of town, a harrowing sound that forces innocent people to flee their homes in a desperate search for safety. Surrounded by death and dealing with a shortage of food, teenager Seita and his young sister Setsuko may initially just be fictional animated characters but as the story develops they feel more and more human before our very eyes. 

I believe the reason for this is because while they may be a work of fiction, what they represent is unfortunately not. When war is declared, bombs are dropped on general areas taking with them far too many lives undeserving of such devastation. Even if they survive the attacks, the normalcy of their lives and their means to continue on are destroyed. For every bad guy that perishes, the hope and purity of a child is taken from this world and I can't think of anything more heartbreaking. It literally makes me hurt inside, to think of a little girl like Setsuko wondering where her mother is, forced to find any form of shelter to protect her from the outside world. The body of a child falling apart with each passing day without food.

As tears fell from my eyes, I imagined my own daughter under such circumstances, crying out for help with no one there to provide it. The thought destroyed me. I wanted to reach through the television and help Seita and Setsuko as if they were my own. I wanted to remind them just how beautiful the fireflies are to take their minds off of the anguish of reality. Grave of the Fireflies is such a powerful achievement I couldn't even fall asleep for a while after it was over. I was still mourning the loss of fictional characters because somewhere behind their hand drawn artistry stands real people struggling to stay alive.

"Why must fireflies die so young?"

My heart is broken, but my eyes are wide open. Grave of the Fireflies is extraordinary.

5/5

Waltz with Bashir Review

How does one quantify the importance of innovation in the world of filmmaking? To some it might mean very little, as a traditionally told story and endless amounts of regurgitated tropes play mighty fine for them, but for me true innovation is something I can hardly describe my admiration for with words. Hell, I even admire an attempt to be bold and daring that ultimately fails because at the very least something fresh and exciting was attempted rather than a director playing it safe.  

Waltz with Bashir is innovative. Waltz with Bashir is bold, fascinating, heartbreaking, surreal yet all too real at the same time. Waltz with Bashir truly is unlike anything I have ever seen, and that is a wonderful thing.

I have gained a reputation at work for being the "movie guy" so I will often times get asked "Hey Scott, what did you watch last night?" as a way of sparking up some small talk. "Waltz with Bashir. It's an animated documentary from Israel." I answered today.

You can imagine the puzzled looks I saw as a reaction, and I can't blame them. An animated documentary? How does that work?

It works. It works so damn well.

Ari Folman served in the Isreali Army during the 1980's and fought in the Lebanon War, yet he has trouble remembering a single thing that occurred during that time in his life. He decides to get together with friends and survivors of the war to try to piece together moments that he has somehow forgotten, or perhaps pushed out of his mind intentionally to avoid the pain of memories. 

Initially it seemed like a strange decision to take such haunting imagery and animate it, and one of the most raw and powerful aspects of documentary filmmaking is the ability to see real people talk about real events or real feelings. To remove that factor might seem like a misstep, but somehow the power and the pain is still there, simmering behind their eyes as they recall the horrifying nature of war. If anything the striking visual style of the animation captivated me in a way that felt totally unique and the result was a soul stirring piece of cinema.

The last few moments of Waltz with Bashir will linger with me for quite some time thanks to an artistic decision that reminds us just how real everything that occurs during the film is, even if we try to trick ourselves into believing otherwise. So how do you quantify the importance of innovation? You don't. All that matters is if what is presented means something to you, if it stirs up that profound feeling when you experience something that stays with you for some time to come. 

When innovation and execution come together as brilliantly as they do in Waltz with Bashir, it's extraordinary.

5/5

WALL-E Review

Over the past few years I have grown to deeply admire the silent era of cinema, a period that lasted from the birth of the medium until the end of the 1920's. When I was younger I made the erroneous assumption that a silent film would equal a boring film, that a lack of verbal dialogue would lead to a disconnect between me and the narrative portrayed, and it simply isn't the case. The genuinely funny slapstick efforts of Harold Lloyd, Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin. The devastating power that lies in the eyes of Renee Falconetti, on trial for claiming she could speak directly with God. Fritz Lang crafting science fiction ahead of its time, bringing us the brilliant and bizarre performance from Brigitte Helm in front of a surreal, cityscape backdrop. 

Silent films brought us characters that spoke to the audience without literally speaking, a feat that shouldn't be taken for granted. Movement, mannerisms, and emotional depth portrayed through a look in the eyes, these were what made up a performance rather than the delivery of words, and when it was done right like some of the examples I mentioned above, it resulted in arresting, overwhelming cinema.

Fast forward to 2008 when the world laid eyes on WALL-E, a film that benefits from all the bells and whistles of modern technology yet inside that glossy, gorgeously animated package is a tender, nuanced film with silent era sensibilities. We hear what amounts to dialogue between WALL-E and EVE, but the literally robotic communication is limited and not what resonates with me. I fell in love with these characters and their story because of the clever, touching and beautifully realized ways they connect on a deep and profound level without being able to explain their thoughts and feels with coherent sentences. 

I am not one to bash the recent efforts by Pixar Studios because I have been able to have some fun with even their lesser work. I find the Cars hatred to be rather silly because it's easy to assume creativity and the passion for the art should be first and foremost, but the truth is, Disney loves money and Cars is a massive financial winner for them. It would be a poor decision not to continue to make those films, no matter what critics say or people complain about. 

Still though, I haven't felt the true magic of Pixar in years, which is all the more frustrating because we know it is there. Two robots look into each others eyes during WALL-E and say no words, yet I truly feel as if I can see into their souls. Their happiness and their pain, everything they share together has an emotional core and shocking depth to it all that seems unfathomable given the fact that they literally have no heart. 

If you think you are too old for animation, you're not. If you think you won't believe in a love between two cute little robot characters, you will.

If you haven't yet seen WALL-E, you should.

5/5

The Tale of the Princess Kaguya Review

I admit that up until a couple of years ago, I wrongly assumed that anything masterful released by the legendary Studio Ghibli must have been the work of the genius of animation, Hayao Miyazaki. I had carried with me a love for two films in particular, Spirited Away and My Neighbor Totoro, and sure enough they were both works crafted by Miyazaki himself, thus I would refer to anything similar as a "Miyazaki film". It wasn't until I fell madly in love with their recent effort The Secret World of Arrietty and I saw that it was directed by Hiromasa Yonebayashi that I recognized that the studio was bigger than a single piece, no matter how spectacular and influential that piece is. 

Isao Takahata was the co-founder of Studio Ghibli with Hayao Miyazaki, yet shamefully as of only a few hours ago his entire filmography was a total blind spot for me. Yes, that includes the supposedly masterful Grave of the Fireflies, a film many consider to be one of the finest achievements in the history of animation, a work I promise to sit down and admire sooner rather than later. Takahata is now 78 years old and his most recent effort, The Tale of the Princess Kaguya, has been nominated for the Best Animated Feature Oscar. It was time for me to lose my Takahata virginity. 

My god, it felt so good.

Magical. Mystical. Gorgeous. Devastating. The Tale of the Princess Kaguya is an absolute work of art, and it is not only the finest animated film of 2014, it belongs in the conversation regarding the best movie of any kind from last year. 

Initially I would imagine the style of animation can be a bit off-putting , as it is a far different pill to swallow than the vivid eye candy pumped out by the computers of the major studios each year, but as I have always preferred the hand drawn artistry of a Studio Ghibli film I had no problem quickly adjusting. The film begins in a bamboo forest as a man is cutting down shoots until one that is glowing stands out for obvious reasons. Inside it he discovers a miniature girl, and considering the bizarre circumstances he believes she has to be a divine miracle, one that he must bring straight home to share with his wife. What becomes quickly apparent is that she certainly is no ordinary child, as she grows far more rapidly than normal, and the two decide to raise her as their own. They decide to call her "Princess".

The beauty of a Ghibli film shines through again here, which is the fact that there is no correct singular way to appreciate the movie presented to you. One can simply sit back and be swept away by the magic of the experience, choosing to write off any portion of the narrative that might otherwise confound as merely being that way due to the fairy tale nature of it all. Others can dig deeper and really allow the prevalent themes of the work to wash over them, as Takahata clearly has so much more to say with this story than what is presented on the surface. This is why I often use the word "genius" when referring to Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli as a whole: when you are smart enough to know exactly how to make a film that can appeal to absolutely anyone regardless of how they choose to approach it, you have accomplished something worthy of massive admiration.

As strange as this may sound, considering how incredibly different the two films are, The Tale of the Princess Kaguya resonated with me for similar reasons as Richard Linklater's Boyhood did. I watched Princess grow up, and while it was joyous she grew far too fast. The progression of Princess felt like a true coming-of-age story, and as she got older she faced issues that are meaningful to any adolescent: depression, romance and the desire to follow your own path rather than the one expected of you. In the end, the idea of having to say goodbye, the idea of letting go of that child you raised, the one you love with every fiber of your being is beyond heartbreaking. It's a feeling that I cannot pretend to comprehend until I face it myself one day down the road with my own daughter. Right now she looks to me to be her everything, to life her up when she falls, to make her smile when she's down, to literally rub her back when she has trouble falling asleep. Eventually she will not need me in those ways anymore. It's inevitable, yet knowing this doesn't make it carry any less emotional weight. 

The Tale of the Princess Kaguya feels like a fable I want to experience on repeat and yet in part a reality I want to delay for as long as possible. The film features sequences that are so breathtaking and refreshingly unique, I couldn't stop myself from smiling and literally saying "wow" aloud to myself as I watched. 

I doubt this is a work that will lose its power on a revisit, yet I can't help but wish I could go back and do it again for the first time, experience some of the more remarkable moments with fresh eyes and without anticipation.

My god, it felt so good.

5/5

Spirited Away Review

If you are not familiar with the work of the legendary master of animation Hiyao Miyazaki, look up his filmography and start from the beginning. Actually, it would be a safe bet to just watch every film released by Studio Ghibli, which Miyazaki co-founded in 1985. While not every movie released by the studio has been flawless, in general the production company has put out some wonderful, imaginative work, and in my opinion their two greatest achievements are two of the finest in the history of animated cinema: My Neighbor Totoro and Spirited Away.

Spirited Away is, quite simply, an incredible piece of art, one of the finest, most detailed examples of why hand drawn animation will always burst to life in a way that computer animation is unable to. I could pause every frame of this film and admire the remarkable craftsmanship that went into it's production, as even the smallest detail in the farthest corner of the screen was treated with importance and care. My seven year old daughter sat in awe of every single minute of Spirited Away and I was right beside her feeling that same sense of wonder all over again.

Spirited Away tells the story of a 10 year old girl named Chihiro and her parents as they are on their way to their new home, but one wrong turn has them exploring an abandoned amusement park instead. The magical, mystifying world Chihiro finds herself in soon after cannot be explained by my words, and really it shouldn't. You just need to see it for yourself, but every moment is full of imagination and creativity and thematic richness that hides behind a simple tale of a young girl trying to find a way back to her parents and the world she knows.

There is a scene at one point that takes place on a train, and I don't mean to build it up as some major action packed event because it isn't. Very little technically occurs during this sequence, and yet it may be my favorite few minutes of any animated film ever. The music, the beautiful animation, the fact that the surreal scenery reminds me of a dream I once had and wish I could have again...it all adds up to pure perfection. It is a small segment of the film, just a few minutes, and it is sublime in its simplicity.

I will continue to waffle on whether My Neighbor Totoro or Spirited Away is the true Miyazaki masterpiece, but honestly it may be a tie, and that's not so bad right? Why pick one when you can watch both?

If you haven't yet, do it. Watch them both. You won't regret it.



5/5

My Neighbor Totoro Review

The imagination of a child is a wonderful, magical thing. As my daughter grows older, I sometimes can't help but just watch her play, listen to the stories she comes up with, the scenarios she invents for her toys and dolls. I have noticed the ability she has to create grand ideas and worlds with her mind, totally losing herself in them with a look of joy in her eyes that words can't describe. Even if I had the worst day at work, when I walk in the house and see her playing with 20 different toys at once, doing a different voice for each without even skipping a beat, all is right in the world.

This was my second viewing of My Neighbor Totoro, but something about this time felt totally different and new to me. I connected with it on a far greater level, striking a chord in me that I didn't notice during my debut screening. I felt emotional throughout, whether it be a smile I couldn't get rid of or tears from watching a child lost and alone. I felt a deep compassion for the father, something I don't recall experiencing before. He is a man with a lot on his plate, moving into a new home with his two daughters while his wife, their mother, is ill in the hospital, yet he still takes the time to ensure they are having fun, encouraging their imaginations to not only exist but to flourish in new and exciting ways.

I love this film, quite possibly one of, if not the greatest achievement in the history of animated films. My Neighbor Totoro may technically feature a simple story, but it's message is meaningful, touching and important. Sometimes a Father can do everything he can to be there for his kids, but it still isn't enough. Sometimes a friend who shares no blood can step in and fill their lives with love and warmth, but even so something is missing.

Sometimes a child just needs a Totoro.


5/5