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Kim Voynar

By Kim Voynar Voynar@moviecitynews.com

Top Ten 2011: Narrative Features

I’m doing a couple things differently with my top ten lists for 2011. This year, I’ve put together separate top ten lists for narrative features and notable indie films, which includes a couple films from the fest circuit that haven’t yet been picked up or released, and a third list highlighting documentaries. I also decided to list my picks alphabetically this year, rather than assigning a particular position on the list to each. Here’s round one: the top ten narrative features I saw this year:

I Saw the Devil, Jee-Woon Kim
I fell head over heels for this film when I first saw it at Toronto way back in 2010, and my love for it has been unwavering ever since. A tensely drawn story about a serial killer (Old Boy’s Min-Sik Choi) who has the tables turned on him when he chooses as one of his victims the pregnant fiance of a secret agent (Byung-hun Lee), I Saw the Devil is not only one of the best written and directed films of 2011, it’s also one of the best edited and shot, and has a terrific score to boot. It’s violent and bloody, yes, but it’s more an exploration of morality and what separates men from monsters than your typical serial killer movie about the mind of a psychopath.

Martha Marcy May Marlene, Sean Durkin
One of the most buzzed about films at Sundance this year, with its title that forced you to memorize it or forever stumble over it, and a stunning breakout performance by Elizabeth Olsen in the lead role, Martha Marcy May Marlene uses non-linear storytelling to explore both how this young girl got drawn into a cult led by the scary and charismatic John Hawkes, and her unraveling as she tries to go back to a normal life when she runs away from it. Jody Lee Lipes brought some of the most note-worthy cinematography of the year to this film; the dreamy scenes on the farm the cult lives on are just stunning. Olsen, who had two films at Sundance in 2011, looks to be moving fast in making her mark on the indie film world. If she keeps taking smart roles like this one and stays away from Hollywood tripe, she’ll be a formidable force in the future.

Meek’s Cutoff, Kelly Reichardt
I haven’t seen Kelly Reichardt’s earlier feature, River of Grass, but with her more recent films — Old Joy, Wendy and Lucy, and now Meek’s Cutoff — she’s established herself as a writer/director who, like Claire Denis, pays close attention to the visual composition of every shot and uses words with great restraint and economy. Meek’s Cutoff, an exquisite, patient, quietly tense tale of a group of pioneers whose questionable guide gets them lost in the wilderness at a time when there was no help around the corner, no gas station or town just around the bed, no cell phones with which to get help, uses some stunning cinematography to establish the vastness of the wilderness into which our travelers have wandered, carrying their precious few vestiges of civilization with them in their wagon.

Melancholia, Lars Von Trier
Melancholia, in which Lars Von Trier distills an end-of-the-world tale down to its impact on a wealthy, emotionally unstable family, moved me greatly with its visual imagery and poetry. We first meet sisters Justine (Kirsten Dunst) and Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg) on the eve of Justine’s wedding, held on the sweeping, majestic estate Claire shares with husband John (Kiefer Sutherland) and their young son. All of Claire’s meticulously proper wedding planning goes awry, though, when clinically depressed Justine tries and fails to hold it together for the sake of her sister and new spouse. In the second half of the film, as the end of the world comes nigh, though, things flip and it’s mentally unbalanced Justine who faces the end with eerie calm, while Claire and John fall apart. Every frame of this film is gorgeous, and every moment bears the mark of Von Trier’s unique vision. There’s a scene with Dunst lying naked in the moonlight that’s has such painterly beauty, it makes your soul ache. He may be one of the most controversial directors around, and he could sure use a handler to guide him through press conferences, but you can’t say that Von Trier makes films that look and feel like they could have been made by anyone.

Pariah, Dee Rees
Dee Rees’ smart, sensitive feature debut Pariah explores the acceptance (or not) of masculine lesbians within the African American community through an excellently acted and directed exploration of that theme. This is the kind of film that’s made or broken by performances, and Adepero Oduye gives a stellar turn in the lead role of Alike, a young girl coming to terms with her butch-dyke sexuality within her insular, controlling, religious Brooklyn family. Kim Wayans is terrific and heartbreaking as Alike’s controlling mother, and Oduye, who seems to look frankly right through the camera lens into your heart, is spot-on in every frame.

Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, Apichatpong Weerasethakul
There’s nothing linear or traditional about Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s weird, engaging tale of Boonme, who we meet as he’s dying of kidney disease and saying goodbye. Seamlessly interweaving the spectacular natural beauty of Thailand with Buddhist ideas around reincarnation, the characters in Uncle Boonme accept without question the presence of spirits, the idea of reincarnation, and the need to meditate on the choices made as you’ve wended your way down your life path. This isn’t the most accessible film for audiences used to having their stories spoon-fed them with laugh tracks, big explosions and heavy-handed exposition, but if you can sit back, open yourself up to its gentle, abstract beauty, and allow its imagery to flow over and through you, Uncle Boonme is a most fulfilling cinematic experience.

Tinker Tailor Solider Spy, Tomas Alfredson
I loved practically every second of Tomas Alfredson’s striking adaptation of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. This intelligent, perfectly paced thriller about moles and mysteries-within-mysteries, is excellently cast; Gary Oldman as Smiley is getting critical raves, but the rest of the cast, including John Hurt, Colin Firth, David Dencik, Toby Jones, Mark Strong and Ciaran Hinds, is equally top-notch; the excellence of the performances allows Alfredson an economy of form that keeps the dramatic tension pulsing from start to finish as the mysteries unravel. The tight script, by Bridget O’Connor and Peter Straughan, very effectively whittles down a rather mammoth and complex story to its bare essentials. The mysteries are there, but the characters are front and center. And the brilliant, spare, visually evocative montage that closes the film is a practically perfect use of cinematic form in storytelling.


The Tree of Life, Terrence Malick
Have you ever meditated for a long period time, until you reach that dream-like, floating stage of consciousness where images from your subconscious mind float like soap bubbles before you, only to pop and disappear? This is what watching Terrence Malick’s long-anticipated film The Tree of Life felt like. I’m still not convinced that the dinosaurs, and even the whole part with Sean Penn, couldn’t have been excised from the final cut without losing much, but every moment exploring the 1950s life of Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain as the parents of three young boys more than made up for any transgressions. Way more than just a “circle of life” ode, The Tree of Life is a gorgeous, thoughtful, moving gift from a writer and director who seems to be deeply mining his own philosophical underpinnings in figuring out what life, the universe and everything means to him.

We Need to Talk About Kevin, Lynne Ramsay
Lynne Ramsay’s chilly, wrenching examination of the mother-child bond ponders the question of “nature or nurture?” through the impact of a teenage spree killer on his mother, as she muddles her way through the aftermath of shattered lives. Tilda Swinton gives a terrific performance as Eva, a world-traveling feminist who chafes against the shackles of motherhood once her odd, endlessly crying son holds her captive to home and parental duty. Is Eva unable to bond with Kevin because there’s something amiss with him from the beginning? Or does he grow to become a calculating killer because off some internal button that never got pressed by maternal love and compassion? Either way, Eva cannot wash the guilt off her soul, even as she endlessly scrubs a bath of red paint off her house as she struggles to rebuild her life.

Without, Mark Jackson
If Mark Jackson’s feature debut, Without, had gotten into Sundance last year, I have no doubt we would have been hearing about his lead actress, Joslyn Jensen, in the same breath with Felicity Jones, Brit Marling and Elizabeth Olsen. As it was, the film’s solid reception and awards at Slamdance helped the film make its mark on the fest circuit, though I’m continually surprised by industry folks who haven’t seen it. Jensen turns in a solid performance as Joslyn, a young girl who accepts a short-term job taking care of Frank (Ron Carrier, also excellent) an elderly, wheelchair-bound man, in an isolated island house, while she struggles to come to terms with overwhelming grief and guilt. Jackson does a superb job of building tension from scene to scene, keeping the audience guessing as to whether Frank is really as disabled as he seems, and just how much Joslyn will unravel before it’s over. This is one of the most striking debut films I’ve seen; Jackson who wrote, directed and edited, is one of the most exciting young directors to come along in recent years. Keep an eye out for more out of him.

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It shows how out of it I was in trying to be in it, acknowledging that I was out of it to myself, and then thinking, “Okay, how do I stop being out of it? Well, I get some legitimate illogical narrative ideas” — some novel, you know?

So I decided on three writers that I might be able to option their material and get some producer, or myself as producer, and then get some writer to do a screenplay on it, and maybe make a movie.

And so the three projects were “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep,” “Naked Lunch” and a collection of Bukowski. Which, in 1975, forget it — I mean, that was nuts. Hollywood would not touch any of that, but I was looking for something commercial, and I thought that all of these things were coming.

There would be no Blade Runner if there was no Ray Bradbury. I couldn’t find Philip K. Dick. His agent didn’t even know where he was. And so I gave up.

I was walking down the street and I ran into Bradbury — he directed a play that I was going to do as an actor, so we know each other, but he yelled “hi” — and I’d forgot who he was.

So at my girlfriend Barbara Hershey’s urging — I was with her at that moment — she said, “Talk to him! That guy really wants to talk to you,” and I said “No, fuck him,” and keep walking.

But then I did, and then I realized who it was, and I thought, “Wait, he’s in that realm, maybe he knows Philip K. Dick.” I said, “You know a guy named—” “Yeah, sure — you want his phone number?”

My friend paid my rent for a year while I wrote, because it turned out we couldn’t get a writer. My friends kept on me about, well, if you can’t get a writer, then you write.”
~ Hampton Fancher

“That was the most disappointing thing to me in how this thing was played. Is that I’m on the phone with you now, after all that’s been said, and the fundamental distinction between what James is dealing with in these other cases is not actually brought to the fore. The fundamental difference is that James Franco didn’t seek to use his position to have sex with anyone. There’s not a case of that. He wasn’t using his position or status to try to solicit a sexual favor from anyone. If he had — if that were what the accusation involved — the show would not have gone on. We would have folded up shop and we would have not completed the show. Because then it would have been the same as Harvey Weinstein, or Les Moonves, or any of these cases that are fundamental to this new paradigm. Did you not notice that? Why did you not notice that? Is that not something notable to say, journalistically? Because nobody could find the voice to say it. I’m not just being rhetorical. Why is it that you and the other critics, none of you could find the voice to say, “You know, it’s not this, it’s that”? Because — let me go on and speak further to this. If you go back to the L.A. Times piece, that’s what it lacked. That’s what they were not able to deliver. The one example in the five that involved an issue of a sexual act was between James and a woman he was dating, who he was not working with. There was no professional dynamic in any capacity.

~ David Simon