2008: Flame & Citron (Ole Christian Madsen)

Released: March 28, 2008

a.k.a.: Flammen & Citronen

Director: Ole Christian Madsen; Screenplay: Ole Christian Madsen and Lars Andersen; Cinematography: Jorgen Johansson; Studio: Nimbus Film Productions; Producer: Lars Bredo Rahbek

Cast: Thure Lindhart (Flammen/Flame), Mads Mikkelsen (Citronen/Citron), Stine Stengade (Ketty Selmer), Peter Mygind (Aksel Winther), Mille Lehfeldt (Bodil), Christian Berkel (Karl-Heinz Hoffman – Gestapo Leader), Hanns Zischler (Gilbert – German Colonel), Stine Stengade (Ketty) Claus Riis Østergaard (Bananen), Flemming Enevold (Spex), Lars Mikkelsen (Frode Jacobsen aka Ravnen), Jesper Christiensen (Flammens Far)

- “Do you remember when they arrived? Do you remember April 9th?”

Any selections I make for 2008 and 2009 come with major caveats – I simply haven’t seen everything that I probably should before making a pick. This pertains especially for 2009. I still go to the movies when I can, but I’m one who tends to wait and watch films on DVD in the home theater versus going to the cinema as much as I should. What that means, though, is that I end up being a few months behind on keeping up on newer releases. This issue was compounded even more this year, as when I would normally have been catching up on anything I missed in ’08 I was instead engaged in this wonderful odyssey that has been the Year’s Best Countdown. With all that being said, I think that I’m able to make a solid selection for 2008, even if I haven’t necessarily seen every possible contender.

And I’m going with something of an obscure pick for the year. I’ll be interested to see how many people have seen this Danish film. It received all-around positive reviews, but it only saw release in select theaters and cities. There is one person who deserves sole credit for my viewing of this film – the man who has been here at Goodfella’s since day one, Sam Juliano. Sam saw this one in theaters over the summer and, knowing my tastes for noir and historical thrillers, recommended it as a film that he felt I would enjoy. His high praise intrigued me, but living nowhere near an arthouse theater that would screen a film like this, I wasn’t going to hold my breath. I thought I would simply have wait and hope that it would be released on DVD in the states sometime in the near future. I did, however, discover that IFC had acquired the rights to distribute it in the United States. Knowing that they often offered contemporary films through their On Demand cable service, I decided to give it a shot. Fortunately for me, it was there. I ordered and was once again reminded how many top-notch films are released each year throughout the world that I don’t have the slightest inkling of. It was just good fortune that Sam saw it and recommended it.


Set in occupied Denmark in 1944, the story is inspired by the real-life exploits of two resistance fighters who operated as a hit squad against collaborating countrymen and the occasional Gestapo officer. The pair is known as Flammen (Flame) and Citronen (Citron) which roughly translates as “Flame” and “Lemon” in English. Flame’s (Thure Lindhart) nickname is derived from the fiery red hair that he boldly refuses to cover when he performs a hit. Citron (Mads Mikkelesen) gets his name due to his having worked at the Citroën car factory in Copenhagen before joining the resistance. They make an unlikely duo – Flame is young and brash, fully confident in his abilities to complete any assignment given him. Citron, on the other hand, is reserved, fidgety, always on edge. Both try to live by the code of only killing Danish collaborators, not having a desire to go for German soldiers. Their leader Askel Winther (Peter Mygind), however, is not as principled. He rises to lead the Danish resistance because of supposed connections to the Allies in London, but it is a tenuous connection at best. As Flame and Citron realize that they are now being sent to hunt Nazis and ex-German officers, they begin to question the motives of their leader. Is Winther working for his country or trying to play out personal vendettas? The intrigue is further heightened when a mysterious femme fatale (Stine Stengade) interjects herself into the machinations of the resistance group.

Although set in World War II Europe, it is just as much a noir as a war film. The characters are very much out of the traditional noir mold, finding themselves in circumstances they never imagined being a part of. And because of these situations they are in, they are prodded into doing things that they originally swore they would not do. For Flame, this means continually bending his rules on who he would hunt. Originally it was just men of Denmark who collaborated with Nazis. Then he agreed to kill Germans. This then leads to him reluctantly murdering a woman, which in turn leads to a job where a child is killed. These are things Flame never intended to be a part of, but he is in so deep with the resistance movement he feels like he has to follow through. Similar developments occur to Citron, who tries to shield his wife and daughter from the dangerous world he operates in. Citron sickens himself when he is reduced to robbing a store run by a Nazi businessman in order to feed his family. Both Flame and Citron are unquestionably the protagonists of the film, but in true noir fashion, they are not the crystal clean good guys in white hats. The moral ambiguity of their actions is obvious. If the characters themselves grapple with their roles as assassins, then it even makes the viewer question if what they are doing is justified because of the war.


It’s not just the characters that have the classic noir or gangster vibe. Director Ole Christian Madsen and his crew bring the occupied city of Copenhagen to life similar to how American masters like Robert Siodmak and Michael Curtiz were able to do with Los Angeles and New York. Perhaps an even better comparison would be with other visually spectacular neo-noirs like L.A. Confidential. But even that comparison isn’t perfect, as Flame & Citron doesn’t feel anywhere near as slick as did L.A. Confidential. Everything is in color, but outside of the title character’s flaming red hair, the tones are muted to create the properly overcast atmosphere. At the time of its release, this was the most expensive Danish film ever made and it’s obvious that a bulk of the funding went into recreating the Copenhagen of 1944. Everything feels legit – the streets, the storefronts, the clothes, the cars, the guns. There is a horrific beauty to seeing the city in this period.

There are some virtuoso moments in the film, particularly from the standpoint of directing and editing. The opening fifteen minutes the film is spectacular, using a mixture of archival wartime recordings and original scenes. Playing newsreel footage of the Nazi Army rolling into Denmark, Flame narrates with a series of questions addressed to the collaborators that he targets. “Do you remember April 9th?” he asks, answering quickly with, “I think you do.” He continues with voiceover narration and thoughts as he and his partner travel across town with the day’s assignments. Along the way, Citron too takes the time to reflect on what has led him to this point, reminiscing about how he watched the Nazi stormtroopers march through the center of the city. The sight upset him so badly that he literally became sick at his stomach. All this leads into another montage of historical footage and newly produced shots to quickly enlighten the uninformed viewer. It’s an incredible opening sequence, on par with the kind of editing seen in Oliver Stone’s JFK.

The most obvious influence is also one that has been acknowledged by Madsen – Jean-Pierre Melville’s Army of Shadows. It can be excused if it ends up being a slightly inferior offspring from Melville’s 1969 masterpiece. That description is not at all a slight, because it is a short list of films that I think equal the achievement of Army of Shadows. There is also more than enough variation to separate Flame & Citron from Army of Shadows, allowing it to occupy its own unique position. Although lead characters grappling with their actions in wartime is similar to that in Melville’s film, this one is slightly less cerebral. There is a bit more emphasis on action, putting the big budget to use in choreographing hip gunplay sequences. As I said, it is not at the level of the great Melville, but it’s a worthy follow-up and one that I hope everyone that reads the blog will eventually get a chance to see.

Rating: 9/10

Other Contenders for 2008: My first runner-up decision is another movie that is related to World War II. I’ve seen wildly varying reviews on Stephen Daldry’s The Reader, which initially gave me some pause going into it. I now see it as a great purchase. Kate Winslet rightfully took home a Best Actress Oscar for her role as Hanna Schmitz. As I said at the beginning, I haven’t seen everything from last year, but others that I would recognize as favorites would be: Revolutionary Road (Sam Mendes), The Wrestler (Darren Aronofsky), Let the Right One In (Tomas Alfredson), Gran Torino (Clint Eastwood), Slumdog Millionaire (Danny Boyle), and Wall-E (Andrew Stanton). Outside of Flame & Citron and The Reader, though, I have to say not a lot of great films for me.

There are plenty that I still need to see: Waltz With Bashir, The Class, The Hurt Locker, Frost/Nixon, Milk, and a long one that I loaned to my brother and never got back, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (Andrew Dominik)

Released: September 21, 2007

Director: Andrew Dominik; Screenplay: Andrew Dominik based on the novel of the same name by Ron Hansen; Cinematography: Roger Deakins; Studio: Warner Bros.; Producers: Ridley Scott, Jules Daly, Brad Pitt, Dede Gardner, and David Valdes

Cast: Brad Pitt (Jesse James), Casey Affleck (Robert “Bob” Ford), Sam Rockwell (Charley Ford), Paul Schneider (Dick Liddil), Jeremy Renner (Wood Hite), Sam Shepard (Frank James), Garret Dillahunt (Ed Miller), Mary-Louise Parker (Zerelda “Zee” James), Zooey Deschanel (Dorothy Evans), Alison Elliot (Martha Bolton), Kailin See (Sarah Hite), James Carville (Gov. Thomas T. Crittenden), Michael Parks (Henry Craig), Ted Levine (Sheriff James Timberlake), Michael Copeman (Ed O’Kelley), Hugh Ross (Narrator)

- “Do you want to be like me or do you want to be me?”

Now we arrive at my final true contender for the top film of the 2000s. When I repeated numerous times that there were two films remaining in the decade that I put on the same lofty pedestal as a masterpiece like Mulholland Dr., I had to bite my tongue to not start discussing them right away. I managed to keep from spilling the beans on The New World and now, fortunately, we’ve reached 2007 and I can begin my gushing for this most lyrical of westerns. I had also dropped another slight hint as to the possible appearance of this film in the countdown in 1992’s review of Unforgiven. In praising that Eastwood film, I declared that it was at such a high level that there was only one other western released in the last 30 years that approached it. The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (hereafter to be abbreviated as simply The Assassination of Jesse James), is that one western. And not only does it approach the greatness of Unforgiven, it is every bit an equal.

Before going straight into discussing it, though, I want to stop and acknowledge what an incredible year 2007 was for American cinema. It was a good year for movies around the world, but in particular American filmmakers trotted out one brilliant film after another. Two of the most acclaimed of the decade, No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood, were locked in a dead heat for Best Picture. Both routinely appear near the top of “best of the decade” polls. Celebrated films like Zodiac, Juno, Michael Clayton, and Eastern Promises would have been standouts in nearly any year. Pixar released another standout with Ratatouille. And if you want to cheat a bit and expand things to “English-speaking cinema” and include the British-led Atonement, the list becomes even more impressive. In my opinion, this is one of the finest years in American film in recent memory.


All of which may explain why a film like The Assassination of Jesse James received such little mainstream buzz in terms of awards, best films lists, and other superficial achievements. There were certainly critics who championed the film, and from doing a little surfing around the blogosphere I see that there are a considerable number of cineastes who rank it as high as I do. Still, there is no question that it was often lost in the shuffle of the great films listed above, frequently ignored in the debate that raged between No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood. Rest assured, there is no debate or indecision here. In a year that could have been a major headache to choose a single top film, The Assassination of Jesse James makes the selection a no-brainer. Not only do I think it’s the top film of 2007, but I would put it in the top two or three of the decade and equally as high on a personal all-time westerns list.

Andrew Dominik’s film is a western in setting and subject matter, but not necessarily in the traditional style. To be sure, it contains a few sequences of customary gunplay and tough guy machismo, but these are spaced intermittently across the nearly three-hour runtime. Normally a western without shootouts is like a comedy without jokes, but the story adapted from Ron Hansen’s novel is not concerned with the actual violence and robberies of Jesse James and his gang. There is no need to continually showcase violent sequences. It is rightfully assumed that after seeing just a single spectacular train robbery, the audience is fully aware of the violence and ruthlessness that Jesse is capable of. Instead, the focus is on the myth that comes to surround everything about the notorious outlaw. It is hero worship played out in the nineteenth century, as a man who makes his living sticking up rail lines and killing those who get in his way has achieved celebrity status throughout the country. The plot unfolds as a psychoanalytic study of both the icon Jesse James and admirer Robert Ford. The closer Bob gets to his idol, the quicker the myth of the benevolent bandit begins to crumble.


The story opens as the gang of Jesse (Brad Pitt) and Frank (Sam Shepard) James assemble in preparation of a daring train robbery. Bob Ford (Casey Affleck), who has spent his entire adolescence following the exploits of the James brothers, approaches and begs both Jesse and Frank to let him come along on the raid. After being rebuffed by the cantankerous Frank, he manages to convince Jesse to allow him to join the gang. Helping his cause is the fact that his brother Charley (Sam Rockwell) is a longtime cohort. The actual robbery, taking place within the first fifteen minutes, might be the most spectacular sequence of the entire film. Cinematographer Roger Deakins is in complete control, using contrasting lights and shadows in constructing an eerie montage. The use of flickering lights and torches, creating dancing shadows in the nearby woods and playing across the vigilante masks of the gang contribute to a haunting atmosphere. Something as simple as tracking the front headlight of the approaching train, making it the only thing to pierce the blackness of the dark night, is brilliant in its simplicity.

The gang disperses after the robbery and the story follows them to various locations. Dick Liddil (Paul Schneider) and Jesse’s cousin Wood Hite (Jeremy Renner) travel to Kentucky to stay with James relatives. Charley travels to stay with the brothers’ widowed sister Martha (Alison Elliot). Bob, meanwhile, is on cloud nine when Jesse instructs him to stay back. Other gang members are immediately jealous and Bob basks in the minor distinction. Jesse slowly begins to learn what a hero he has long been to Bob. Growing up, Bob kept a shoebox full of James-related mementos, ranging from newspaper clippings to nickel books glorifying the outlaw. Jesse seems to keep Bob around out of a combination of enjoying the ego boost brought by having a young sycophant at hand and to use him as his personal gofer. But the closer Bob gets to his idol, the less enamored he remains. Far from the Robin Hood portrayed in the news clippings, he finds himself constantly on the receiving end of Jesse’s manic outbursts. He becomes a witness to the insecure, vindictive personality of a man on the run. This is not a glamorous life led by Jesse and his family. Forced to constantly move from one safe house to another, and always convinced that those closest to him are plotting his demise, Jesse manages to alienate someone who once looked up to him as a parishioner would a minister.


Aspiring to the same fame and celebrity as Jesse, Bob realizes that he will never achieve it by tagging along as a sidekick. Instead, he decides to get in touch with Police Commissioner Henry Craig (Michael Parks), declaring that he can lead the authorities to the most famous outlaw in the world. After striking an official deal with the governor of Missouri (James Carville), Bob also brings his brother Charley and Dick Liddil into the plot. The story then is converted into a cat and mouse game, as Bob maneuvers to stay close enough to Jesse to bring about his capture, but not reveal his intentions to the always-suspicious killer. The tension is heightened with each passing moment, as it eventually becomes clear that the two sides in the “struggle” are playing out a shadowboxing routine. Jesse seems to know that somebody in his gang has turned on him, but never directly acts on his suspicion. Bob and Charley remain in constant fear that Jesse will uncover their conspiracy, but feel themselves in too deep to turn back.

The title of the film gives away the end of the chess game, but I won’t reveal the exact mechanics of how it plays out. There is some irony in the title though, as Bob is not exactly portrayed as a coward. As a quirky, shifty person, yes, but not necessarily a coward. And Jesse is not the traditional romanticized outlaw seen as central characters of most westerns. He is hardly likable. Thus, at least in my mind, I never experienced much sympathy for the situation Jesse found himself in. The final chapter to the story serves as a coda in the life of the man who killed Jesse James. Believing that this feat would lead him to great fame and fortune, Bob is instead haunted by the entire episode, earning a living by reenacting the assassination in a stage play. Labeled a coward and a traitor, he becomes one of the most despised personalities in the country.

The most obvious comparison for a film like this would be with a filmmaker that I have praised quite a bit recently – Terrence Malick. Visually, there are a number of similarities to Malick’s Days of Heaven. I don’t know enough about the mechanics to say whether the films are similar in technical respects, but The Assassination often has scenic shots of nature that are similar to those in Days of Heaven. Additionally, it adopts a pace similar to that found in all of Malick’s work, moving quite leisurely, completely unconcerned with how long it takes the story to progress. The thing that Dominik’s screenplay possesses that might appeal to a larger audience than Malick films is the ability to guide the leisurely pace toward tension-filled high points. There are a number of scenes that are as intense as anything you’ll find in a top-notch thriller. In particular, I think that the dinner sequence, when Jesse unexpectedly drops in on the Ford brothers at their sister’s home, to be one of the finest in the film. As Jesse and Charley laugh at Bob for his hero worship as a young boy, the friction builds. Everyone there is terrified of saying the wrong word that will set Jesse off. But after the nonstop prodding from the outlaw, Bob becomes so incensed that he can’t resist the urge to respond. There is also a memorable scene when Jesse is standing on a frozen lake, asking Charley if he ever considered suicide. As he does this, he begins firing rounds from his six-shooter into the ice. With each shot, you see Charley wince in fear that the entire pond of ice is going to collapse beneath them.


The other understandable parallel to Malick is due to the heavy use of narration. This is probably the most criticized element of the entire film. Many are turned off by narration of any kind, but in this instance there are actual specific complaints about the voice-overs that guide the viewer. The fact that some of the narration describes specific actions, in some cases even as they are being performed on-screen, led certain critics to liken it to watching an audio book being read. I couldn’t disagree more, and in fact I think that the narration is fitting. Why do I say this? Because even when it is doing something that could be incredibly annoying, such as describing action as we watch it, the language is overly literary and flowery. What this means is, it sounds like it is being read from a pulp or dime novel about Jesse James that would have been published in that era. I think it corresponds perfectly to the overall tone of the film.

I already mentioned the train robbery, but Roger Deakins deserves praise for more than just this single sequence. Deakins might be the MVP of the entire year in film, as not only is he responsible for the photography here but also in the Coen Brothers’ Best Picture winner No Country for Old Men. Both of his efforts were nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture, but lost to There Will Be Blood (oddly enough, Deakins is a startling 0-8 at the Oscars). I understand how meaningless such awards ultimately are, but it’s impressive to be nominated twice in the same category in a single year. Had I been the final arbiter, Deakins would have won the honor for The Assassination of Jesse James. I don’t know how else to describe the cinematography except to call it beautifully bleak. The outdoor shots are expansive and picturesque, but always maintain a desolate air about them. The Days of Heaven comparison is apt, except that everything appears to take place in under an overcast sky rather than at the “magic hour.”


Deakins is the consummate pro, someone who is easy to take for granted because you always expect superior work from him. The same thing could even be said about Brad Pitt. While not necessarily considered the most talented actor in Hollywood, he does consistently turn out solid performances. Here, his turn as Jesse James comes off much better than I expected going in. I honestly thought it had disaster written all over it, but he shines as the calculating gunman. Hopefully it doesn’t seem like I’m giving Pitt short shrift, but the most satisfying thing about the film is a pair of revelatory performances. The first is that of the director, Andrew Dominik. I have not seen his debut film, 2000’s Chopper, but by all accounts there was nothing there to indicate that he would come up with something like this in his sophomore effort. It takes confidence to make a film like this, one that is certain to alienate a lot of viewers. He does it assertively and in my opinion never falters. The other is Casey Affleck. Affleck is at times annoying, funny, neurotic, lovable – in short, the perfect Bob Ford. He is a multifaceted person who develops into a most unlikely lead character.

All this time and not even a mention of the unorthodox score from Nick Cave and Warren Ellis that is able to get under your skin at the most tense moments. This just goes to show how much there is to explore in this film and how rewarding it can be on repeat viewings. I just hope that Dominik stays active and doesn’t begin releasing movies at a Malick-like pace. Get to work, Andrew!

Rating: 10/10

Other Contenders for 2007: I’ve already listed a number of films from what I consider to be a monstrous year in film. My favorites are mostly in American cinema, but I’ll go ahead and try and list what would be the rest of my Top 10.

2. Zodiac (David Fincher) – My favorite Fincher film
3. There Will Be Blood (Paul Thomas Anderson) – My favorite PTA film
4. Eastern Promises (David Cronenberg) - My favorite Cronenberg film
5. No Country for Old Men (Coen Brothers)
6. The Counterfeiters (Stefan Ruzowitsky)
7. Gone Baby Gone (Ben Affleck)
8. Atonement (Joe Wright)
9. Juno (Jason Reitman)
10. Michael Clayton (Tony Gilroy)

There are some obvious omissions, particularly not having seen The Diving Bell and the Butterfly and also highlighting my lack of familiarity with Pixar in not having seen Ratatouille.

2006: The Lives of Others (Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck)

Released: March 23, 2006 (Germany)

a.k.a.: Das Leben der Anderen

Director: Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck; Screenplay: Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck; Cinematography: Hagen Bogdanski; Studio: Beuna Vista International; Producers: Max Wiedemann, Quirin Berg, and Dirk Hamm

Cast: Ulrich Mühe (Hauptmann Gerd Wiesler), Martina Gedeck (Christa-Maria Sieland), Sebastian Koch (Georg Dreyman), Ulrich Tukur (Oberstleutnant Anton Grubitz), Thomas Thieme (Minister Bruno Hempf), Hans-Uwe Bauer (Paul Hauser), Volkmar Kleinert (Albert Jerska), Matthias Brenner (Karl Wallner)

For the second time in three years, I turn to Germany for my top film. Not since the first two years of the countdown (all the way back in May!), when I chose The Blue Angel and M for 1930 and ’31, have films from Deutschland popped up so close together. Oddly enough, both of these films from the current decade deal with dark periods in German history. As was covered in the review of Downfall, the final days of Hitler’s Third Reich are played out at a frenetic, almost real-time pace in Oliver Hirschbiegel’s stellar work. The formula for writer-director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck’s debut film is quite different. Rather than bombarding the viewer with the immediacy of a dire situation, he crafts a story that slowly builds tension, creeping up on climaxes that are bubbling over with anxiety.

The setting is East Germany in 1984, a time when socialists still ruled the nation, but when protesters and intellectuals are routinely speaking out against the repressive regime. Maintaining control of the ruling elite is the secret police of the East German state, the dreaded Ministry for State Security, or “Stasi.” This is an organization that specialized in covert operations utilized to spy on and uncover enemies of the state. The extent of the operations of the organization is staggering even now – 68,000 full-time employees, as well as utilizing nearly 300,000 part-time workers and operatives over the course of its existence. In addition, the Stasi cultivated an army of informants to clandestinely report on the activities of neighbors, co-workers, relatives, and anyone else that could be under scrutiny as a “class enemy.”


One of the Stasi’s most successful employees is Gerd Wiesler (Ulrich Mühe), an expert in the disciplines of interrogations and covert intelligence gathering. So efficient is Wiesler that he is in charge of instructing new recruits at the Stasi academy in the art of extracting confessions from suspects. The methods used to obtain such confessions – sleep deprivation, constant questioning, threats toward family members – would make the admissions dubious to most impartial observers, but Wiesler views them as foolproof tactics. A former classmate and current superior of Wiesler, Lt. Col. Anton Grubitz (Ulrich Tukur) comes to Wiesler in order to initiate surveillance on the most successful playwright in East Germany, Georg Dreyman (Sebastian Koch). On the surface, Dreyman looks like a loyal socialist, but party higher-ups begin to suspect that he, like many other artists, may secretly harbor anti-GRD feelings. Thus, Grubitz and Party Minister Bruno Hempf (Thomas Thieme) decide that he needs to be placed under surveillance. Grubitz approaches Wiesler, having him set up the operation.

Wiesler wires Dreyman’s apartment and constructs a control room on the top floor. As he spies on them, the reasoning for putting Dreyman under surveillance slowly begins to emerge. When Wiesler spots Dreyman’s girlfriend Christa-Maria (Martina Gedeck) with Minister Hempf, he begins to understand the goal of the operation is not preserving the security of the state. Over the course of his work, Wiesler gradually begins to relate to Dreyman and Christa-Maria. Almost as if he is living vicariously through the couple, Wiesler’s commitment to the cause begins to wane. Taking chances that he would not normally have considered, Wiesler actually begins to leave out key information from the reports that he submits to Grubitz. The result is that no incriminating evidence is found against Dreyman, which infuriates Hempf.


Part of the true reason that no incriminating evidence is found to smear Dreyman is that initially he is not actually a subversive. Although many of his peers in the theater world are dissidents, Dreyman is almost apolitical. If he is not an outright supporter of the GDR, then he at least is someone who has made peace with the way the system is. While Wiesler is undoubtedly the main character of the film, the most interesting aspect of the story to me is the development of Dreyman. When he is put under surveillance, it becomes obvious that he has no desire to be a part of the resistance. His only goal is to be able to continue to be able to write, which is guaranteed by staying out of the rough and tumble business of politics in the GDR. It is only once surveillance has begun on him that he even slightly ventures into publishing something political.

I am not going to go much further in terms of plot, because although I’m guessing that a lot of folks have seen this, but it’s one that needs to be experienced with at least some degree of freshness the first time around. So, to those who still haven’t had the pleasure, I won’t reveal too much. I do, though, want to comment on the conclusion and say that I love it. Rather than wrapping things up with the most obvious, pat ending that anyone could see coming, von Donnersmarck keeps it understated. It's feel good not in an overly sentimental kind of way, but rather very modestly. I hate to sound schmaltzy myself, but this is a movie that gives a reassuring assessment of the ability of one person to decide to do the right thing, regardless of the outside pressure.


The performances are all around solid. Mühe as Wiesler is the prototypical dedicated, methodical bureaucrat. Koch plays Dreyman as the writer who will do anything for his art. The best performance probably comes from Tukur as Anton Grubitz, a man who fashions himself as dedicated to the tenets of the state, but who’s only true ambition is personal career advancement. The true star of the entire film is von Donnersmarck. The script which he penned is tight, using very deliberate pacing and style to make the climaxes unbelievably thrilling. Long sections of the film will seem to repeat snippets of dialogue and situations, but they only lull the viewer into a sense of familiarity that is quickly shattered when tension-filled scenes pop up. As a director making his debut, von Donnersmarck also displays incredible control. While not exactly the most scientific scale to judge such things, the movie looks exactly as a westerner like myself has been led to believe cities behind the Iron Curtain would look. Everything is drab and dull, with each building looking exactly like the next. The coloring of the sets and scenery is equally bland, creating an air of monotony that accentuates the pacing of the story.

Perhaps part of me being drawn to this film is that I see a lot of elements from other all-time favorites. Every time that I watch it, I am reminded of a classic like Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Conformist, another tale of a man becoming disillusioned in an authoritarian state. It’s also impossible not to relate it to one of Francis Ford Coppola’s finest, The Conversation, which touches on the way that surveillance can affect both the watcher and the watched. I don’t think that The Lives of Others is quite at the same level as these two films, but few are. It is an amazing achievement as a debut film and one that is poignant enough to stay with you well after you finish it.

Rating: 9/10

Other Contenders for 2006: I came very, very close to going with Paul Greengrass’ United 93. I think it’s a remarkable achievement, and one which I originally questioned coming so soon after September 11. But it’s handled well and the intensity that is able to be created in another real-time like production is impressive. Clint Eastwood also released one excellent and one OK film in 2006. Screenwriter Paul “I have a message and I’m going to pound it into your head” Haggis gets into the way too much in Flags of Our Fathers. Letters from Iwo Jima is certainly the superior of the two and ranks high on any Eastwood list. I am happy that The Departed finally got Marty Scorsese his long-deserved Oscars, but it’s a movie that I seem to like less the more that I watch it. I still like it, but where I once felt it to be among Scorsese’s best, I no longer think that is the case. Still, it remains a top film for 2006. A movie from this year that continues to keep me puzzled is Darren Aronofsky’s The Fountain. It might be one of the best movies I’ve seen or it might be a dud – and I honestly can’t decide which one I feel is the case! It’s one that I probably need to continue to revisit. Others I have to acknowledge: Apocalypto (Mel Gibson), Pan’s Labyrinth (Guillermo del Toro), Blood Diamond (Edward Zwick), and Inside Man (Spike Lee).

2005: The New World (Terrence Malick)

Released: December 25, 2005

Director: Terrence Malick; Screenplay: Terrence Malick; Cinematography: Emmanuel Lubezki; Studio: New Line Cinema; Producers: Sarah Green and Terrence Malick

Cast: Colin Farrell (Captain John Smith), Q’Orianka Kilcher (Pocahontas), Christopher Plummer (Captain Christopher Newport), Christian Bale (John Rolfe), August Schellenberg (Chief Powhatan), Wes Studi (Opchanacanough), Yorick van Wageningen (Captain Argall), Raoul Trujillo (Tomocomo), Michael Greyeyes (Rupwew), Irene Bedard (Pocahontas’ Mother), Kalani Queypo (Parahunt)

“How much they err,
that think every one which has been at Virginia
understand or knows what Virginia is.”

This film and the experience I had watching it for the first time is unlike anything I’ve ever felt from a movie. I talked about the incredible feeling I had after viewing Mulholland Dr. and how the enigmatic nature of it left me endlessly fascinated. This is different. There, I was intrigued by the story, wondering if I could put all of the pieces together and try to understand how it played out. With The New World, it was an all-encompassing, overwhelming onslaught of all the senses. I doubt that I’m even eloquent enough to put the feeling into words. It had then, and still has to this day, the ability to put me in a trance-like state whenever I watch it. The photography is stunningly beautiful, possibly the most impressive I’ve ever seen. The music is sublime, perfectly capturing the moods experienced throughout the film. The direction is lyrical, like watching a director write a poem through images. I just become completely immersed in the world that Terrence Malick creates.

This will be an interesting write-up, as so much of what I am attempting to communicate has to be experienced to be appreciated. And at times it might read like something of a love letter, which will be interesting for a lot of folks because I’m almost certain that some readers will completely abhor this film. I’ve been anxious to reach this year in the countdown so I could try to get down some thoughts on this movie, and also because I am eager to see if there are others that are as enamored by it as I am.

In the last few years of the countdown, I mentioned that there are two more films that challenge Mulholland Dr. as my top film for the entire decade. That statement was actually a bit misleading, but only because I needed to at least maintain some kind of suspense. The truth of the matter is this: although Mulholland Dr. and a future entry in this countdown come close, The New World is my #1 for all of the 2000s. And if I were to try to make an all-time list, it would place very, very high. I’m talking Top 10 or higher. I love this film that much. My guess is that whether someone cares for The New World is dependent upon their overall feelings toward director Terrence Malick. The typical elements of a Malick film are apparent – voiceover narration, loose and meandering storyline, and, most importantly, unmatched visual beauty. Where I am in regards to Malick overall is obvious and has been stated multiple times on the blog. With the exception of Badlands, I consider the other films on his resume to be bona fide masterpieces. But I’m of the opinion that The New World exceeds anything else that the famed recluse has done.


This is the story of the settlement of Jamestown, told through the often repeated myth of the romance that developed between Captain John Smith (Colin Farrell) and Powhatan princess Pocahontas (Q’Orianka Kilcher). Malick creates a world that is a blend of documented history and folklore. He pays strict attention to many historical details that add to a feeling of legitimacy – things like filming on location in a tributary of the James River and constructing complete replicas of the Jamestown settlement and Powhatan villages. A bevy of experts and consultants were hired to ensure that everything from style of dress, tools, and crops in nearby fields matched those used by natives of the time. The stickler Malick even hired a linguist and forced native actors to partially learn a dialect of Algonquin that, outside of a handful of natives and academics, had been extinct for nearly 200 hundred years. The result is an authenticity that is unmatched by similar historical epics. Perhaps some of these details could have been faked and the general audience would have been none the wiser. But the deliberation that was put into even the most minor details is obvious and it truly sells the idea that the production is as close to Jamestown in 1607 as any film can get.


Where the story diverges from the historical record is in the relationship between Smith and Pocahontas. There is no doubt that the two met each other in Jamestown, and by Smith’s own account she saved him from execution at the hands of Powhatan leaders. There is no evidence, however, that the two developed the kind of romantic relationship that has become legendary, repeated in everything from novels to Disney movies. None of this matters, though. I said it earlier in my review of JFK, but I still maintain that Roger Ebert was correct when he declared that facts belong in print, while movies are about emotions. Malick’s intention was never to make a movie that strictly adheres to documented fact. His films are about feelings. He set out to make a movie that examines what happens when cultures clash, how the passions of ordinary people can be subsumed by inexorable outside forces. And, in my opinion, to show the beauty that existed in both the people and the culture of natives long before being “civilized” by Europeans.


There are three cuts of the film that exist on various world releases, but in the States there are primarily two versions – the theatrical 125-minute release and the 175-minute extended cut. The differences between the two are just the ability of Malick to stretch in certain sequences, providing even more shots of the natural landscape. If I was recommending the film to a newcomer, I would say start with the theatrical release, then if you enjoy that move on to the expanded version. When I personally revisit the film, I almost always reach for the extended cut. But both versions have their worth, as certain sequences are edited a bit different in each cut, producing different responses when you watch them.

I don’t know that a plot synopsis of either version will help all that much for someone who hasn’t seen the film. So much of the story is seemingly random scenes that allow the viewer a window to simply observe the beauty of the land. I don’t even know how Malick wrote a screenplay for much of it. Things like Pocahontas dancing in wheat fields, natives examining the structure of shelters built by the colonists, or the complete lack of dialogue in large sections in favor of natural outdoor noises and the wonderful soundtrack. These are things that I can’t really describe; they simply have to been seen to understand what I am talking about. And they are not going to be for everyone – a lot of people who watch it will feel that the entire thing is wandering aimlessly from one pointless scene to the next. If that’s the case, I’m under no illusion of being able to convince anyone otherwise. But what I think this style does is convey the wonderment of the entire situation. Just stop and consider what it must have been like for two cultures, both essentially unaware of the other, to first make contact? Think about that. Imagine how the natives must have felt to see massive ships sailing into their harbors. Or the mix of excitement and terror that the English certainly experienced in trying to establish a colony in this foreign land. Malick’s imagery perfectly captures this astonishment. In such a situation, it would be impossible _not_ to stop and marvel at everything around you, and this is what Malick forces the viewer to do.


This means that plot and storyline ultimately takes a back seat to the visuals. But this in no way implies that there is not a compelling tale being told. There is an aching beauty in the relationship developed between Smith and Pocahontas. In watching it progress, I found it impossible not to also feel an inevitable gloom about it all. Farrell and Kilcher have such chemistry together that it only heightens the sadness surrounding a relationship that you know cannot work. The scenes near the end of the film, when the two are reunited in England after years of separation, are among the most melancholy I’ve seen. Kilcher was just 14-years old when shooting began on the film, which is probably the most shocking fact about the entire film. She turns in a performance that is mature well beyond her years. Farrell is very good and deserves credit for contributing to the dynamic between the two, but I never got the feeling that his role was one that couldn’t have been filled by many other actors. Kilcher’s performance, on the other hand, is singular. It has the elements of a great silent film performance, as the subtleties of tone of voice and body language are essential to putting it over. It is a remarkable film debut and I am not exaggerating at all in saying that it's among the finest performances that I've seen in a long time.


It cannot be forgotten, though, that this is a Terrence Malick film, meaning that no matter how strong the acting performances the true standouts remain those behind the camera. This fact alone is enough to turn off newcomers to his work, but I find something appealing about knowing that you’re watching an artist in complete control of what he is crafting. In Malick’s four major motion pictures, he hired a different cinematographer for each film. And yet in each case, he appears to best the amazing photography accomplished in his previous efforts. What this tells me is that regardless of who is his DP, Malick is a significant contributor in achieving the look of all of his films. In The New World he worked with one of the best in the business today, Emmanuel Lubezki. There are other outstanding achievements on Lubezki’s resume, but in my opinion not even the work he did in a film like Children of Men approaches the triumph achieved here. Lubezki and Malick decided to attempt to shoot the entire movie without artificial lighting, instead relying on the natural scenery and illumination of the Chickahominy River. In later interviews, Lubezki commented on the fact that he was terribly nervous about the proposition and often told Malick that he doubted they could pull it off. Malick was reassuring, telling his cinematographer that he wouldn’t have asked him to do it if he didn’t honestly believe that he had the ability. The decision to photograph the film was as important as the tactic of shooting during the “magic hour” in Days of Heaven. The result is a vibrant film, with visuals to rival something one would see on Discovery’s Planet Earth.

The soundtrack must also be acknowledged, if for nothing else than to recognize the disgusting amount of talent utilized by Malick in putting it together. James Horner was commissioned to write the entire soundtrack, but quickly ran into obstacles in working with the director. Due to Malick’s constant reshoots and edits, Horner was forced to continually write and rewrite the music for scenes. The result was a finished score that at times did not fit the flow of the film. Rather than reject it outright, Malick utilized it in parts, but in others inserted famed pieces from such musical luminaries as Richard Wagner and Mozart. Not a bad trio, eh? James Horner, one of the most renowned conductors of film scores, along with two of the most celebrated musicians who ever lived. Horner’s contributions are impressive, but the musical centerpieces are those from Wagner and Mozart. The use of Wagner’s prelude to Das Rheingold, particularly at the start of the film as the English ships are first entering Jamestown harbor, is the most fitting piece of music that could have been chosen. It goes perfectly with the theme of discovery. The second movement of Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 23 is used to accentuate the more downbeat, mournful moments of the story. Just the opening notes of the piano in that piece are enough to make the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

I was originally concerned that this post would be shorter than usual, as I felt myself unable to articulate the power this movie has over me. Fortunately, no one has ever accused me of being into the whole brevity thing, and it felt good to finally pen something on a film that until this point I’ve hesitated to even really discuss. I recognize that this is not a film for everyone, but there are actually times that I like this to be the case, as it almost feels like I’m in on a secret that few others get. I’ll close in a way that I think is most befitting this film, by simply display some of the more spectacular images seen throughout. Even these beautiful screenshots don't do justice to a lot of the scenes.






Rating: 10/10

Other Contenders for 2005: After my gushing over The New World, it should be obvious that there is no other film that ever truly contended for the top spot. That being said, there are still a number of other films from this year that I think are outstanding. The first runner-up would have to be John Hillcoat’s Australian western The Proposition. It was a movie that I knew nothing about, outside of reading a random blurb that recommended it as a well-done modern western. It certainly lived up to that billing. Woody Allen’s Match Point might owe a lot to his earlier Crimes and Misdemeanors, and even more so to George Stevens’ A Place in the Sun, but it’s still an excellent thriller in its own right. I would probably rank it as Woody’s best film since Crimes and Misdemeanors. One movie that bombed upon its initial release, but was saved by the release of a director’s cut on DVD is Ridley Scott’s Kingdom of Heaven. I might rank it much higher than others, but I think in director’s cut form that it is a very good pop history epic. And being a major boxing fan, I have to admit to liking Cinderalla Man. It utilizes some of the usual sports clichés, but Paul Giamatti’s performance is more than enough to elevate it. Finally, I think that Steven Spielberg’s Munich works quite well in spots, but fizzles toward the end as Spielberg seems uncertain of the proper conclusion.

Arguably the two most highly acclaimed films of the year are ones that have never been particular favorites. My suspicion is that some will cite Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain as the best film of this year, but it never really worked for me. And I think that David Cronenberg’s A History of Violence is an average crime drama.

2004: Downfall (Oliver Hirschbiegel)

Released: September 16, 2004 (Germany)

a.k.a.: Der Untergang

Director: Oliver Hirschbiegel; Screenplay: Bernd Eichinger based on the book “Bis zur letzten Stunde” by Joachim Fest, Traudl Junge and Melissa Muller; Cinematography: Rainer Klausmann; Studio: Constantin Film; Producer: Bernd Eichinger

Cast: Bruno Ganz (Adolf Hitler), Alexandra Maria Lara (Traudl Junge), Juliane Kohler (Eva Braun), Thomas Kretschmann (SS-Gruppenfuhrer Hermann Fegelein), Christian Redl (Generaloberst Alfred Jodl), Ulrich Matthes (Joseph Goebbels), Carinna Harfouch (Magda Goebbels), Heino Ferch (Albert Speer), Andre Hennicke (SS-Brigagefuhrer Wilhelm Monke), Ulrich Noethen (Reichsfuhrer SS Heinrich Himmler), Christian Berkel (Ernst-Gunther Schenck), Rolf Kanies (Hans Krebs)

I have a feeling that this one could divide readers here at the blog nearly as widely is it did the country of Germany upon its release. As someone who is obsessed with history and loves nothing more than a solidly-constructed historical drama, perhaps I am the perfect mark for such a film. There has always been an air of mystery surrounding the closing of the Third Reich, specifically concerning the final days of Adolf Hitler. In all honesty, I knew very little about the frenetic circumstances of this period, outside of the usual random trivia and general World War II history. So it is little surprise that I found it engrossing to be given a first-person view of the disintegration of both an evil empire and an equally evil man.

The story recounts the final twelve days in the life of Adolf Hitler (Bruno Ganz), watching him spend this time with a large entourage in an underground bunker. It is April 1945 and the Third Reich is on its last legs – the Americans and British are advancing from the West, while the Russians are closing in even quicker from the East. With constant bombing and artillery peppering the city, Berlin is a smoldering mess, with all buildings and houses being turned to rubble. The majority of the story takes place in the subterranean Fuhrerbunker, constructed underneath buildings in the government district of Berlin. Entry into this claustrophobic world is provided by following the character of Traudl Junge (Alexandra Maria Lara), Hitler’s personal secretary. She is hired by Hitler in the early 1940s and by this point in the war has obviously developed a sense of loyalty toward her boss. When much of the staff decides to leave Berlin before the city is overrun, Traudl declares that she will stick by Hitler until the end.


What the audience is able to witness in this claustrophobic world is the breakdown of a man who, in his own words in the film, singlehandedly conquered Europe. His generals and advisors recognize that there is no stopping the Allies at this point – Berlin is going to fall and it is going to happen very soon. Whether Hitler understands this is up for debate. At certain times he begins planning for his suicide, as if he has come to terms with the fact that the war is lost. At others, he plans counterattacks for units that don’t exist or plots strategies to prolong a war that moments ago he had declared he was done fighting. Since none of his generals have the courage to tell him the truth, Hitler operates in a pseudo-dream world in which he is never certain whether he should continue fighting or simply end it all. Along the way, a veritable who’s who of historical Nazi characters is seen. Eva Braun, Hitler’s longtime girlfriend whom he marries just before both commit suicide. Joseph Goebbels, a loyal Nazi until the end. Goebbels’ wife Marga, who performs acts that are enough to make anyone sick at their stomach. Heinrich Himmler, the head of the SS who begins secretly planning to negotiate with the Allies in order to secure advantageous terms for himself and other high ranking party members. Albert Speer, the architect turned war production chief.

Director Oliver Hirschbiegel’s attempt to tell this compelling story was not received warmly by everyone in his home country. As is understandably the case, depictions of this period in German history have remained controversial ever since the war ended. The government has tightly regulated the ability of artists and the media to create portrayals of Hitler and the Nazi party. Although these sentiments may not have been as strong as in the initial post-war years, these unofficial (and in some cases, official) prohibitions remained applicable even in 2003. In making Downfall, Hirschbiegel directly challenged one of the most significant of these remaining restrictions – depicting a realistic, German-speaking Adolf Hitler as the lead character in a film. As if this would not be controversial enough, the way in which Hitler is portrayed would draw even greater fury.


Evidently, much of Germany was not yet prepared for a film to show the psychopathic leader as someone capable of being every bit as human as the average person. The furor arose over the personal approach taken in telling the story of Hitler’s final days. To be certain, there are plenty of maniacal moments – bone-chilling sequences in which he casually discusses executions and deaths of his own German citizens. But there are also moments when the mass murder is portrayed as caring and at times quite charming.

Where I come down in assessing the film is obvious. I choose it as my number one for the year, so these are obviously not issues that affected my appreciation of it. But I can appreciate where the reaction of a large section of the German population was coming from. Bruno Ganz’s chilling portrayal of Hitler at times does border on showing him as a sympathetic figure. This is not the prototypical depiction of Hitler, a madman who does nothing but plot genocide and war crimes. In this film he is also seen patting young German boys on the head, receiving children like a favorite uncle, or showing compassion for the females stuck with him under the Chancellery. It is understandable that some might see this as unjustly creating sympathy for Hitler, depicting his final twelve days in the bunker as some kind of heroic trip toward martyrdom. For me, though, the fleshing out of Adolf Hitler on a personal level only made him even more disturbing. The fact that someone this charismatic could move from patting children on the head one moment, to in the next instant condemning the entire civilian population of Berlin to death is shocking. It is an unnerving and powerful juxtaposition. The other striking dynamic to the film is Hirschbiegel’s portrayal of those around Hitler. It is shocking how even generals who know that the war is lost, refuse to turn their back on the man that has lead them to this point of destruction. There is a scene in the film when Hitler is told that an army led by General Steiner will not be able to attack as he ordered. Hitler then declares that the Army has failed him and that he is finished with it all – in so many words, he tells them that they are on their own from there on out. And even then, a number of generals refuse to abandon the man.

The performance from Ganz is stunning. Even if one is turned off by the subject matter of the film, or completely disagrees with the method of storytelling, I don’t think anyone can deny the level of Ganz’s achievement. Aside from the similarities in physical appearance, Ganz also spent time studying a rare audio recording of Hitler in order to mimic his actual voice and speech patterns. This is not an easy performance to pull off as there is a risk of being too over the top, of playing Hitler as a caricature of the arm-waving, spittle-flying orator at the podium that everyone pictures when his name is mentioned. Ganz embraces this image at times, but adds enough nuances to keep from approaching campy territory. And Ganz’s is not the only standout role. If Carinna Harfouch as Magda Goebbels isn’t enough to horrify you, then I don’t know what will. The way that she justifies giving her children cyanide is enough to make even the most coldhearted viewer squirm.


Outside of Ganz, what ultimately makes the film work for me is the style adopted by Hirschbiegel. Even though we know that the story is unfolding over the course of nearly two weeks, the action has a real-time feel to it. So many things are taking place in such a short period of time, and in such a confined area, and Hirschbiegel never lets the audience forget it. Cuts between characters and scenes – including some sequences taking place on the war-torn streets of Berlin – come quickly and one on top of the other, building tension for a story that has an ending that everyone already knows.

I’ll be interested to see how others assess this one. I find it unsettling in content, but unbelievably compelling in its execution.

Rating: 9/10

Other Contenders for 2004: This was a toss up for me between my actual choice and Martin Scorsese’s The Aviator. I know that I rate The Aviator a bit higher than most – I actually rank it as my #3 or #4 favorite Scorsese film – but we all know that personal taste is going to play a role at various points in this countdown. It’s interesting to see Marty use such a bright, slick production style. Outside of these two at the top, other favorites for the year include: Collateral (Michael Mann), Million Dollar Baby (Clint Eastwood), Sideways (Alexander Payne), Bad Education (Pedro Almodovar), and Maria Full of Grace (Joshua Marston).

Not exactly a banner year, in my estimation, but solid.

2002: City of God (Fernando Meirelles and Katia Lund)

Released: August 30, 2002

a.k.a.: Cidade de Deus

Directors: Fernando Meirelles and Katia Lund; Screenplay: Braulio Mantovani based on the novel “Cidade de Deus” by Paulo Lins; Cinematography: Cesar Charlone; Studios: 02 Filmes, Globo Filmes, StudioCanal, and Wild Bunch; Producers: Andrea Barata Ribeiro, Mauricio Andrade Ramos, Elisa Tolomelli, and Walter Salles

Cast: Alexandre Rodrigues (adult Rocket), Luis Otavio (child Rocket), Leando Firmino de Hora (Li’l Zé), Douglas Silva (Li’l Dice), Phellipe Haagensen (adult Benny), Michel de Souza (child Benny), Matheus Nachtergaele (Carrot), Seu Jorge (Knockout Ned), Jonathan Haagensen (Shaggy), Renato de Souza (Goose), Jefechander Suplino (Clipper), Edson Oliveira (adult Stringy), Ermerson Gomes (child Stringy), Alice Braga (Angelica), Daniel Zettel (Tiago), Darlan Cunha (Steak with Fries), Charles Paraventi (Uncle Sam), Graziella Moretto (Marina Cintra), Luiz Carlos Ribeiro (Bull), Mauricio Marques (Big Head)

Not many things in cinema are able to appall me. Sure, there are moments in films that might startle me or make me nervous. Or even passages of films that stick with me long after a movie ends, which I continually think about or grapple with. Rarely do I see something on screen that actually makes me uneasy to the point that I want to look away, particularly in regards to violence. Perhaps I’m just too desensitized to the point that such things don’t have great impact on me. Even more likely, I think I’m able to put what I’m seeing into context, which makes it much more palatable – in other words, I’m not horrified by the violence in Goodfellas, because I know what such a life, and movie, entails. But one particular scene in City of God managed to make me squirm. When a kid, aspiring to become a neighborhood hoodlum, is forced to choose which of two young boys to shoot in order to prove his mettle, it was hard for me to even watch the scene. The skill with which the scene was directed, the tension created by the script, it all comes together perfectly – you react to it as I did, “horribly” in a good way. That scene is seared into my mind, the one image I can’t shake from this incredible account of life in the slums of Rio de Janeiro.

Certainly a great film is not found in a single scene, but for me it undercuts the key criticism that is leveled against City of God: the fact that it retreads a lot of ground that has been covered in previous crime films. To be certain, the influences of American crime dramas are obvious – the realistic, documentary feel of Martin Scorsese’s early works, the quirkiness and sometimes humorous episodic structure of a Tarantino film, the childhood to adulthood scope of countless gangster films. I’ve seen some claim that the only difference is setting the film in the favela of Brazil. Maybe this is true, but it glosses over what an enormous variation this is. Exploring an underworld that most viewers know very little about, it looks at issues of crime and life in the ghetto differently than any of the previously mentioned films. And in the end, its answers, or lack thereof, are no easier to digest than the scene I described in the first paragraph.


The technically dazzling opening sequence sets the overall theme of the movie, as the main character Rocket (Alexandre Rodrigues) finds himself literally caught in a standoff – old comrades from the Cidade de Deus slums where he grew up on one side, the state police on the other. Rocket grew up in the favela (roughly translating as "slum") in the 1960s, but always remained on the fringes of criminal activity. He sees his brother Goose (Renato de Souza), part of a legendary gang called the “Tender Trio” along with partners in crime Shaggy (Jonathan Haagensen) and Clipper (Jefechander Suplino), lose his life over menial street crime. Instead, Rocket concentrates on school as best he can while growing up in the ghetto, following more carefree pursuits like his crush on the gorgeous Angelica (Alice Braga) and smoking the occasional joint with friends. Moving into the 70s, Rocket remains on the fringes of crime, hanging out with others that are involved in the rampant drug trade, but never becoming directly involved himself. Instead, he focuses on his dream of becoming a photographer, working odd jobs in order to earn enough cash to purchase his own first-rate equipment.

Such noble pursuits are rare in the City of God, however, as most boys grow up idolizing the drug dealers and hoodlums that control the area. The prime example of this is Li’l Dice (Douglas Silva), a boy who followed the Tender Trio around like a mascot. With a quick temper and unmatched bloodlust, by the time he is eighteen he is running a large part of the City of God. Rechristening himself Li’l Zé (Leando Firmino de Hora), he teams up with best friend Benny (Phellipe Haagensen) and sets his sights on taking over the drug trade in the entire ghetto. This inevitably leads to clashes with other drug dealers, as they battle for turf. Li’l Zé's first reaction to any resistance is to kill everyone who opposes them. But Benny is the mild-mannered partner, the only one who can calm his pal. Eventually tension begins to build even between the two friends, as Benny drifts away from a life of crime and falls in love with Angelica.


There are other sub-strands to the story that really make the Cidade de Deus favela come alive. Even minor characters have personality and colorful names. Carrot, the local drug dealer who rises to prominence through his persistence and loyalty to previous bosses. The decade-long history of the apartment that once served as his headquarters is told quickly and adeptly. Things like the neighborhood bar owner who is a dry snitch for local police who snaps when he catches his wife in bed with Goose. And the bus driver and karate expert everyone knows as Knockout Ned. Or the gang of “groovies” that Rocket begins to hang out with in his adolescence. Or the group of young “Runts,” kids in their pre-teens who terrorize the streets and local shop owners while mimicking the gangsters that they idolize. Really, the city itself is given such personality that it almost serves as a character in its own right. The City of God and its inhabitants truly come alive and it is the one constant throughout everything.

For a movie so brutal, very little of the violence is directly shown. There isn’t a lot in the way of blood and gore. But it in no way lessens the impact. The amazing thing is how natural it all is, how characters don’t seem to even give it a second thought. Even Benny, the one hood with a heart in the entire story, utilizes gunplay and violence when needed. He uses it sparingly in comparison to someone like Li’l Zé, but even so called “good guys” are drawn toward it at some point. Rocket even takes a gun at one point in time with plans to knock off a local bus driver for cash. Plans like this are ordinary to the teenagers in the city, even ones who don’t consider themselves criminals. The violence is particularly hard to stomach when it involves kids, which is quite often. And by “kids” I don’t mean teenagers, I mean actual kids. As in nine or ten year-olds toting guns and shooting former playmates. I’ve also seen complaints about the high body count, with the endless barrage of killings and the complete lack of caring at the deaths. Again, I think such critics are completely missing the point. It’s _supposed_ to get this reaction out of you. The fact that kids, teenagers and others are executed and nobody seems to care is one of the key statements of the film. It reiterates the fact that these killings are all too common and that it’s a vicious cycle taking place – one kid is brutally murdered, another steps right in to take his place. There’s no time to stop and mourn or analyze why it happened. The drug trade and violence continues.


The direction from Fernando Meirelles and Katia Lund is as stylish as it gets, displaying technical chops and innovative camera work throughout. I already mentioned the opening sequence that is dazzling, but such technique really is on display over the course of the entire movie. There is much handheld camera work in following characters through the streets of the City of God, lending it any almost neorealist feel. What amazes me is how Meirelles and Lund are able to capture such a hip, stylish visual style while at the same time retaining the gritty, Mean Streets-like feel of the story. Also adding to this neorealist feeling is the fact that a majority of the actors were not professionals, but rather were found in real-life Brazilian favelas and cast into the film. That is incredible to me consider how smooth many of the performances are, particularly from all of the kids.

I won’t go as far as some who declare City of God to be on par with previous crime epics like The Godfather or Goodfellas, but it’s unfair for almost any other movie to be compared to those. I do think it’s a great film, portraying a city and a struggle that most people don’t often get to see. Plus, after taking Portuguese in college, this was the first foreign film I was ever able to watch and actually somewhat understand without subtitles. That’s got to be worth something, right?!

Rating: 9/10

Other Contenders for 2002: Although I don’t usually think of 2002 as a banner year, looking at it now I realize that there are many, many outstanding films. As is the case with most of the 2000s, my exposure is primarily to American cinema, but this year I am actually somewhat well-rounded. Aside from City of God, there are others from around the world that I have to acknowledge. Yimou Zhang’s Hero is another entry on that short list of martial arts films that I like. Aleksandr Sokurov’s Russian Ark is unlike anything else I’ve ever seen, or for that matter even heard of, but it’s incredibly fascinating. The whole approach is innovative and it’s surprising that anyone is able to pull it off this well. And finally, the exiled Roman Polanski’s The Pianist. While I don’t rank it as highly as many others, it’s still a masterful production from Polanski.

As for American cinema, favorites also abound. While I did not initially care much for Sam Mendes’ Road to Perdition, I’ve seen done a complete 180. The cinematography is gorgeous, on a near Malickian level (yes, I’m making that word up). It might now be my favorite Mendes film. I also have always been of the opinion that all three of the Lord of the Rings trilogy are basically on equal footing in terms of quality, so I have to include The Two Towers. The others I might not personally put on the same level as these two, but I also really like: Far From Heaven (Todd Haynes), Catch Me If You Can (Steven Spielberg), Adaptation (Spike Jonze).

2001: Mulholland Dr. (David Lynch)

Released: October 12, 2001

a.k.a.: Mulholland Drive

Director: David Lynch; Screenplay: David Lynch; Cinematography: Peter Deming; Studio: Universal Pictures; Producers: Pierre Edelman, Alain Sarde, and Mary Sweeney

Cast: Naomi Watts (Betty Elms/Diane Selwyn), Laura Harring (Rita/Camilla Rhodes), Ann Miller (Catherine “Coco” Lenoix), Dan Hedaya (Vincenzo Castigliani), Angelo Badalamenti (Luigi Castigliani) Justin Theroux (Adam Kesher), Brent Briscoe (Det. Neal Domgaard), Robert Forster (Det. Harry McKnight), Katharine Towne (Cynthia Jenzen), Billy Ray Cyrus (Gene), Lori Heuring (Lorraine Kesher), The Cowboy (Lafayette Montgomery), Mr. Roque (Michael J. Anderson), Camilla Rhodes (Melissa George), Patrick Fischler (Dan), Michael Cooke (Herb)

- “Silencio… silencio…”

I assume that this one is going to divide some folks. I’ve watched Mulholland Dr. with many people and generally see two initial reactions. Either people are completely confused by it and feel cheated by David Lynch with the abrupt turn that the story takes. Or, there are those that may not fully understand what just happened but are so fascinated by trying to figure it out that they can’t wait to watch it again and solve the mystery. I distinctly remember falling into the latter category after watching it for the first time. I was captivated the entire way through, but utterly confounded by the time the film ended. My exact reaction was, and I remember typing this on a movie message board, “I’m not sure I can explain what I just watched; all I know is that I loved it.” That’s an incredible thing to say about a movie that I will routinely cite as being among a handful of the best films released in the last decade. The fact that I was admittedly confused, unsure of what to make of the story – indeed, skeptical as to whether it made any sense at all – and still remained amazed by the artistry of it all speaks volumes to what an impression this movie made on me.

It needs to be said early in this piece that it is difficult to discuss this movie without revealing key twists and plot details that are major factors in the story. My reputation of trying to keep these as spoiler-free as possible is well-established, but it’s going to be a virtual impossibility here. If you haven’t seen it yet, my recommendation would be to just skim or simply leave comments for 2001 in general. Why ruin what could be a rare experience? But by all means, consider this a flashing sign that reads: GO SEE THIS MOVIE ASAP! Now, with that, we proceed…


Assessing things now, Mulholland Dr. looks like the film that David Lynch was working toward. Taking elements he had utilized with great results in previous movies – the surrealism of Eraserhead, the sexual taboos of Blue Velvet, the wildly non-linear storytelling of Lost Highway – he combined them to create an indefinable type of film. At various times it feels like a thriller, a mystery, a 50s sitcom, an erotic love story, and so much more. The other obvious influence on the tone of the entire project was his celebrated TV series Twin Peaks. Lynch’s original idea for Mulholland Dr. was to follow the formula he created with Twin Peaks – make a two-hour pilot episode and then springboard that into a regular series. He went to ABC only with the vague outline of a woman who is injured in a car crash and wakes up with $125,000 in cash and a blue key in her possession. Other than that, she remembers nothing about herself. The series would progress as the girl she meets afterward tries to help her discover her identity. The ABC brass, understanding how successful the protracted mystery of Twin Peaks was a decade earlier, gave the go ahead. It is amazing to think that television bigwigs would allow someone like Lynch such free reign, knowing the themes he routinely touched on in his work. But they did and Lynch proceeded to shoot the pilot film… only to have ABC reject it once it was completed.

All of this was fine with Lynch, because he was unsatisfied with the changes he was forced to make by ABC executives. After a long night of inspiration, Lynch was able to rework the script, adding subplots that would be prominent in the final version, and stretch it to feature-length. In fact, it was at this point that Lynch included the final third of the film, involving the opening of the blue box and the transformation of the two lead characters into completely different people. Once this twist was added to the story, it guaranteed that the movie was bound to be controversial. But Lynch didn’t stop there. Without the restrictions imposed by television, he was uninhibited in exploring the darkness that permeates so much of his other work, and he does so freely. The bizarre sequences and characters found throughout the story are endless. So I’ll personally take this opportunity to thank ABC for passing on the pilot and freeing Lynch to do what he does best.


After an opening montage of teens jitterbugging, the story begins traditionally, with a wide-eyed Betty Elms (Naomi Watts) stepping off a plan at LAX. She tells the elderly couple she met on the flight that she has come to Los Angeles to stay at her aunt’s apartment and pursue her dreams of becoming a Hollywood starlet. When she gets to the apartment, she discovers a mysterious woman in the shower. The lady was able to sneak into the apartment after surviving a terrible car crash on Mulholland Drive the night before. Unable to remember anything about herself or the circumstances of the accident, she takes the name Rita after seeing a poster for Gilda in the apartment. The only clue to Rita’s true identity is a large amount of cash in her purse and a lone blue key. The bighearted Betty decides to assist Rita in discovering her identity and figuring out what the money and key actually mean.

This is the key storyline, but in watching it progress, Lynch guides the audience through an assortment of dreams, nightmares and hallucinations. The various threads seem completely random, but they are at least loosely tied together, and somehow manage to work in the overall story arc. The other key subplot followed is the travails of wunderkind director Adam Kesher (Justin Theroux). Resisting the influence of the mob-backed Castigliani brothers (Dan Hedaya and Angelo Badalamenti) trying to influence the casting in his latest film, Kesher becomes overwhelmed by it all. The characters met along the way could only be the creation of David Lynch. Just describing them sounds like something out of a vaudeville act: A man dressed as a cowboy calls a meeting and obliquely discusses what Adam is going to do. Mr. Roque (Michael J. Anderson) appears as a puppetmaster, pulling the strings of Hollywood from behind a plate-glass window. A blue-haired woman. A hitman who manages to shoot through a wall and kill an innocent bystander. Two men who meet at a local café to discuss the recurring nightmare that one of them has been having about a strange being that appears behind the dumpster of the restaurant. Billy Ray Cyrus having an affair with Adam’s wife. Truly, these are only characters and scenarios that could be created by Lynch.


If you’re still reading at this point, chances are you’ve already seem the movie and understand how convoluted it all can seem. And the confusion is taken to another level when Betty and Rita find a blue box that is a match for the key in Rita’s purse. When they turn the key, everything changes. In my opinion, it’s the jumping off point for whether someone is going to love or hate the film. If you can stomach the shifts of characters and perspective, it’s a mystery that holds up to endless repeat viewings. If it seems like too much of a swerve, it is likely to ruin the entire thing.

There are entire web sites devoted to interpreting Mulholland Dr., with dissertation-length essays attempting to construct complete interpretations. That is not my intention here, but I do think it’s interesting to at least get individual takes on how to make sense of it all. I have reached a point where I feel confident in saying that those who think the entire movie is one convoluted mess are wrong. There _is_ a coherent story to be interpreted. I can’t account for all of the scenes that take place – things like the Cowboy and the monster behind the dumpster at Winkie’s still vex me – but regarding the key love triangle between Betty/Diane, Rita/Camille and Adam, I have an interpretation that works for me. My analysis is not at all revelatory and is the one I see most people adopting. It seems obvious to me that at least one section of the film is a dream – either the first two-thirds, containing Betty and Rita, or the final third where they become Diane and Camille. The question becomes which part? I’ve seen arguments made both ways, but the entire storyline between them makes sense to me if the first two-thirds take place entirely in Diane’s mind. It is Diane looking back on her relationship with Camille in an idealized, Hollywood light. She casts herself as the innocent Betty, unable to live what she has become in reality. Unable to cope with the fact that she has brought about the death of a former lover, she retreats to these hallucinations to relive the relationship. Things like the blue key, which signaled that the deed has been done, are incorporated into the dreams as Diane weaves in and out of reality and hallucination. But once she realizes that there is no undoing what she ordered, reverting into her dreams no longer becomes possible. Toward the end, such attempts only take her back to real-life memories of Camille and Adam flaunting their relationship. The end result is explosive, to say the least.


OK, a thoroughly abbreviated and amateurish interpretation, but it was nice to at least get something like that into writing. I think the fact that I can construct such an analysis is a huge part of the appeal for me. The complete incomprehensibility I experienced with Lynch’s later Inland Empire, for example, was a definite turnoff. I’ve yet to come across a coherent story being constructed out of it, and thus have no real attachment to it. For anyone else who would like to try, I’d love to hear how others have interpreted it all. As I said, I can’t account for everything that happens. Certain characters and scenes still have me baffled. But I have explicitly avoided reading too many interpretations of critics and others as I still occasionally try to unravel it all myself.

The most powerful memory I have of seeing Mulholland Dr. for the first time remains the fact that I saw it under the best possible conditions. I literally knew no more about the storyline than the description on the back cover of the DVD, which gives almost nothing away. What initially drew me in was the Hitchcock-like mystery of it all. The movie progresses by playing as a straight thriller and Lynch is able to create scenes of unbelievable power. Sequences like when Betty and Rita secretly visit the apartment of the unknown Diane Selwyn or the intense El Silencio club kept me on the edge of my seat. I had no idea where the story was going. And then they opened the box and, in the words of the inimitable Cosmo Kramer, blew my mind. The result was one of the most memorable movie experiences of my entire life. I remember watching the credits roll, scrambling to figure out what I just watched. It’s a cherished memory and I’d give anything to be able to go through that again or to have similar experiences.

Rating: 10/10

Other Contenders for 2001: OK, this countdown is devoted exclusively to major motion pictures, but I can’t go through this year without at least acknowledging Band of Brothers. It’s a great mini-series, and in my opinion the best thing that HBO has ever made – and this is coming from someone who thinks that The Sopranos, The Wire and Curb Your Enthusiasm are among the greatest television series of all time. Band of Brothers is amazing.

As to the actual movies under consideration in this countdown, nothing came close to approaching Mulholland Dr. I can only think of two movies in the entire decade that would challenge it for me, so the runaway victory is no surprise. But others from this year that I really like: The Fellowship of the Rings (Peter Jackson), The Man Who Wasn’t There (Coen Brothers), Y tu mama tambien (Alfonso Cuaron), and Gosford Park (Robert Altman).