Scott
The Tree of Life
2011 has turned out to be one hell of a movie year. Though it’s tougher and tougher for filmmakers to get financing for anything worth a damn and the slog to get to the good stuff as an audience member can seem endless and dispiriting at times, I was surprised to look over my notes from the past year and find that there were 15 movies I’ve seen so far that I really, really liked (late entrants like The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, Young Adult and Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy have eluded me thus far). There were real surprises, like an acid trip kid’s movie (Rango), an engrossing meditation about pioneer life (Meek’s Cutoff), and TWO high-profile salutes to silent movies (Hugo and The Artist). But for me, the best film of the year is an absolute no-brainer. The Tree of Life isn’t just 2011′s best film, it’s one of the best films ever made. It’s a once in a lifetime event, a masterpiece that ties the lives of normal people to the vastness of the universe itself, guided by the confident hand and visionary mind of Terrence Malick. It’s also an anomaly in an industry where personal stories and spectacle almost never mix. Filmgoers have been conditioned to think that an intimate film has to be small and modest, and that a filmmaker who can use the tools of cinema to their full potential is “all style and no substance”. The Tree of Life focuses in on something as tiny as a newborn baby’s foot and as grand as Pangaea splitting apart, and does so with a shorter runtime than the new Transformers movie. The prevailing criticism of its ambition and scope shows just how little we want or expect from movies today. Do we really want a serious film world dominated by sleepy bedroom dramas? The Tree of Life swings for the fences and gave me one of the greatest experiences I’ve ever had in a theater.
Honorable Mentions
If this was any other year, Abbas Kiarostami’s amazing Certified Copy would be at the top of my list. It’s a stunningly-composed puzzle box of a movie that dodges every easy turn and features a career-best performance by the great Juliette Binoche. Those who yearn for the glory days of the 70′s need look no further than the hypnotic Moneyball, the kind of brainy man’s man movie that Paul Newman specialized in circa 1975 (starring his closest living surrogate, Brad Pitt). Takashi Miike’s 13 Assassins surely belongs in the top tier of a filmography that probably numbers into the thousands now, with a first half that superbly evokes the dark side of feudal Japan and a second half in which he slashes and burns it to the ground in brutal and spectacularly-choreographed fashion. Hanna‘s fearless and unapologetic genre-bending inevitably results in an uneven final product, but for long stretches it’s one of the most exciting, original and visually innovative studio films in years. Despite its flaws (why are we seeing Cyclop’s obscure kid brother but not Cyclops himself?), X-Men: First Class is one of the best and most emotionally affecting superhero movies ever made, with Michael Fassbender and James McAvoy acting the crap out of comic book material like it was Richard III. And no movie tugged at my heartstrings like 50/50, a sweet story about finding human connections in the darkest times.
Ellen
The Skin I Live In
As the credits rolled on Pedro Almodovar’s latest mindbender, I found myself pinned to my chair by a sort of emotional whiplash. As much as I had learned about the movie, nothing could have prepared me for the spectacle that had just unfolded. As a Pedro devotee of many years, I go to his movies expecting to be surprised — but I can’t think of another director whose output has been so consistently risky, while still repeating motifs as to create a rich, deep body of work that doesn’t get stale. The Skin I Live In also saw the welcome return of Antonio Banderas to a project where he is actually acting, neither serving as an eye-candy fixation (as in Almodovar’s earliest) nor as some kind of cartoon action star with a shabby all-purpose accent. The creepy effectiveness of his Dr. Ledgard is not in the stillness of a stoic, but that sense of withheld passion and fear that could break forth at any moment. And don’t forget Elena Anaya and Jan Cornet as Vera and Vicente (those who’ve seen the movie will understand why I have paired them here). I happen to think 2011 was a very good year for movies, but none of them disturbed me like this one.
Honorable Mentions
Best documentary: Gnarr, about an Icelandic comedian whose stunt campaign for mayor of Reykjavik becomes a serious pursuit. Best performance I’ll never be able to forget: Michael Fassbender, Shame. Best ensemble cast: George Clooney, Shailene Woodley, Amara Miller and Nick Krause, The Descendants. Best adaptation: Ralph Fiennes (dir. and star)’s Coriolanus. Best supporting actors we should have seen more of: Paul Giamatti and Philip Seymour Hoffman, The Ides of March. Surprisingly good blockbuster of the year: X-Men: First Class. Biggest disappointment of the year: The Muppets. Best performance by an article of clothing: The scorpion jacket Ryan Gosling wears in Drive. Most annoying accent: Viggo Mortensen as Dr. Freud in A Dangerous Method.
Robert
Moneyball
You don’t have to be a baseball fan to appreciate the story of Billy Beane and his game-changing approach to the sport with the 2002 Oakland Athletics. All you have to understand is the basic human desire to succeed against all odds and the necessity to sometimes step well outside of your comfort zone in order to do it. It’s not that baseball isn’t important, but it’s largely used as the backdrop for the emotional and political struggles that Beane and his players go through in order to prove that they might actually be onto something. It’s a story of falling to the lowest of lows and reaching the highest of highs and keeping your humility and integrity intact along the way. The fact that Brad Pitt (an undeniable presence in movies this year, it seems) turns in a finely tuned, reserved performance as the perpetually tainted Beane shouldn’t be surprising, but it’s also great to see Jonah Hill and Chris Pratt (better known for their comedic work) step it up and keep us invested in the team around him. And much like his home run with last year’s The Social Network, Aaron Sorkin’s adaption of Moneyball finds a perfect balance between the literal “inside baseball” and the larger workings of a major league franchise while also serving up far more sympathetic characters to root for.
And when I think about it, Moneyball speaks to me in ways I hadn’t expected it to. It gave me a renewed enthusiasm for forging my own path, both in my professional ambitions and in life in general. It even gave me a new appreciation for the game and how, in some ways, it has to work just like any other business. Most of all, it gave me a chance to connect with my father over his favorite sport, and with his own father (my grandfather) succumbing to illness, inspired us both to reevaluate what we want out of life and what we can do—no matter how unconventional—to make it happen. Those rare times when a film comes along at just the right time in your life to help you through adversity or just give you a new perspective are what make them so magical for me, and this year Moneyball did just that.
Honorable Mentions
When I saw it over the summer, I thought Super 8 was a wonderful, genuine homage to Steven Spielberg that also incorporated the more somber themes of loss and grief, but watching it again after going through a loss of my own really drove it home for me. And when I think of those kids and the enthusiasm they put into their kooky movie project, I find myself all kinds of inspired to do something creative just for fun of it. For those reasons, I found it both incredibly entertaining and moving, making it probably the closest runner-up I’ve ever had to call.
Others include: Drive, for being the best combination of all of my favorite crime drama tropes in a boldly subdued, Michael Mann-esque package; The Tree of Life for its sheer ambition and ability to work entirely in moods even if it is ultimately a narrative mess; Rango for challenging the animated feature formula and making Johnny Depp entertaining again; a touching little film called The Music Never Stopped for exploring the cognitive power of music as a father tries to reconnect with his amnesiac son.
Zoe
Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy
I almost didn’t participate in this year’s movies picks–a quick glance at most of other year end lists had me Googling movie titles, so I clearly missed out on most of the Cinematic Masterpieces of 2011. Fortunately I took the time this week to Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy and it jumped to the top of my list. Some of that comes from the profound sense of homesickness it caused in me–the sets and characterizations and phone rings were so real I felt like I could smell the actors. But the rest comes from it being a masterful film, full of a sense of impending doom that doesn’t really seem to matter when it comes. The entire cast is terrific, but Gary Oldman knocks it out of the park as Smiley, a man who understands the spy game better than anyone, and yet must know how little it matters. With less than five gunshots in the whole movie, this is not a film about the athletic young spy fighting for NATIONAL SECURITY!!!, but about what happens to old men and old countries and old rivalries when people aren’t anything more than pieces for a spymaster to play with. Tremendous.
Honorable Mentions
The Cave of Forgotten Dreams may be my favorite Herzog movie. For starters, it actually finds a use for 3D by showing the contours and dips and cracks in the Chauvet cave–allowing the viewer to really feel like they’re there. While the ruminations of Herzog and the characters he finds are as delightful as always (and include albino alligators), the cave paintings are the star of the film and it’s wonderful to get a chance to see them like they really are.
What’s Your Number? is by no means a cinematic masterpiece, but it is hands down, one of the best romantic comedies–just a very solid outing in the genre. Anna Faris and Chris Evans are both funny and affable and the film manages to be better than its terrible name and sexist premise would suggest.
Paul
The Tree of Life
Surely the most ambitious movie of the year, and startlingly effective in achieving its ambitions, Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life was my favorite movie this year. I have a terrible suspicion that too many people will have gone to see it because of the dinosaurs. Much was made of the dinosaurs. Here I am right now drawing attention to them. But this is not a movie about dinosaurs, this is a movie about placing a human life in the context of the yawning abyssal maw of eternity. This is a movie about the laughable impossibility of a personal relationship with the god of the universe. This is a movie about being really fucking tired of your dad. While it may have divided audiences, my orientation toward it is unambiguous: It is upsettingly, majestically great.
Honorable Mentions
Hanna was the year’s surprise, artfully pointing the way to a post-Bourne future for thrillers. Drive was a Steve McQueen movie for the 21st century, which I think we can agree is a good thing. And though its reception was lukewarm and it seems destined for footnote territory, Paul made me laugh and laugh and laugh.
Dennis
Hugo
Full disclosure: I work for the company that was responsible for the book on which Hugo is based, but I can assure you I’m not being paid to say I enjoyed this movie and think its the best of the year. I’m not even a Scorsese devotee. I know that’s kind of sacrilege. There are the classics of course, like Taxi Driver, but then there’s some more recent stuff like Gangs of New York, which I thought bathed in excess. And that’s maybe one of the reasons I liked Hugo so much. Scorsese is forced to strip away the usual raging severity (and forced to strip away his characters’ propensity to strip down, as well) featured in his other films and just tell one simple, beautiful, multi-layered story about love, about family, and about film itself. The movie might be lead by two capable youngsters, but it’s this film’s supporting adults, Ben Kingsley, Sascha Baron Cohen, Emily Mortimer, and the always chameleon-like Helen McCrory that give the movie its heart, and occasionally broke my heart while watching them. Hugo is a movie about movies, that renewed my faith that they do, indeed make em like they used to, if not better.
Honorable Mentions
Almost Snagged The Top Spot: A Better Life, which more people should’ve seen and should still be talking about. Hanna (and, to a lesser extent, Source Code), which revealed that good movies do occasionally come out in the first part of the year. And The Descendants, another slam dunk dramedy from director Alexander Payne.
Better Than Anyone Gives Them Credit: Scream 4, for actually offering up some sort of critique of our remake culture, even if everyone skipped it to see some horror remake instead. What’s Your Number? for being better than Bad Teacher, despite what the box office (or some critics) might say. Corey Stoll for his scene-stealing turn as Hemingway in Midnight in Paris. 50/50 for every scene not featuring Seth Rogen. And X-Men: First Class for an underrated remake-quel that also gave us a glimpse into the star potential of Fassbender way before Shame gave us um, a whole lot more glimpses.