Best of Best Picture 2011
By Samuel Hoelker
February 24, 2011
BoxOfficeProphets.com
The ten best picture nominees are not the ten best films of the year (three are on my list), but just because the Academy didn't "get" Greenberg doesn't really annoy me. It's a good, eclectic selection with both mass and limited appeal. Although having ten nominees somehow makes the Oscar race less exciting (it's been down to two for quite some time), it does help get lesser-known titles out there and gives Hollywood overall encouragement to keep making small, quality films. Let's hope every year there's a Winter's Bone nominated instead of a Blind Side.
I know you're as sad as I am that Greenberg won't be listed below, but overall we can't complain.
1. Black Swan
I’ve seen Black Swan three times. It’s my favorite movie of 2010. I’ve been asked to defend my choice and it’s a little hard to. Each time I’ve seen it I’ve found it funnier and funnier yet subtler and even more exciting than previous viewings. Black Swan is basically an over-the-top version of Swan Lake itself (provided the premise given in the film is the actual premise) put into a modern, sexy context.
One thing I find fantastic about Black Swan is the minor unsettling pieces that are prevalent throughout. This applies to the music, of course, but there are some great small visual pieces that not only are great in terms of character emotion but also show Aronofsky’s overall effectiveness as a director. Not only does he manage to get great performances out of people from whom one usually doesn’t expect greatness (although I couldn’t get the image of Meg Griffin out of my mind any time I saw Mila Kunis, and Meg Griffin is not someone you want to see making out with Natalie Portman), but he mixes it perfectly with visual flair and a general tautness. I’ve never understood the common thought on Aronofsky, that his films can only be seen once. I find them addictive. I can watch Requiem for a Dream on repeat, and while disturbing, Black Swan is hardly the type of movie that cuts deep into your soul. It’s no Eraserhead.
What I do like about Black Swan, too, is that it doesn’t make any sense and is unashamed about it. There’s no wrapping up what’s going on in Natalie Portman’s mind, and events basically go unexplained. It goes past a simple hallucination explanation to the point of no explanation. And it works.
2. The Social Network
In the early part of the year, everyone was talking about how stupid “the Facebook movie” was going to be. For some reason, everyone thought that it was going to literally be about Facebook – maybe anthropomorphic thumbs-ups for “likes” or something inane. I’m not sure; I don’t claim to be part of the cultural zeitgeist. At the very least, though, I’m sure people were thinking that Facebook would be an actual character, sort of like the upcoming Ridley Scott Monopoly movie (which, yes, I’m super excited for. No, that’s not sarcasm).
It’s probably that first trailer that convinced everyone otherwise. To the tune of a cover of Radiohead’s “Creep,” it showed us how intertwined with our lives Facebook is. Its importance cannot be understated, and that made the film immediately more relevant than most people first thought. Plus, it had Jesse Eisenberg’s Mark Zuckerberg being really sassy, and sassy is something Eisenberg usually isn’t.
The Social Network will probably be the film of 2010. When you think of 2007, you think There Will Be Blood (or No Country for Old Men), maybe, and when you think of 2002, of course you think of Chicago. 2010 is not the year of the cinematic masterpiece (besides maybe personal ones, like Greenberg for Noah Baumbach or Black Swan for Aronofsky), but in a few years I feel like The Social Network will be considered one. I think its impact on both the film and actual world have yet to truly sink in, but when they do, the film’s importance will grow even more.
The Social Network also makes me excited for The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo remake – as much as I love the original (#5 of the year), a lot because it’s foreign, this movie makes me have absolute faith in David Fincher (and Rooney Mara) that they can pull off something truly special. And special is not word that is often used for film nowadays.
3. Inception
It’s strange, but I think I have a problem with modern Christopher Nolan (besides the fact that the Academy loves snubbing him). It’s not the quality his films – Inception is my sixth favorite film of 2010 and The Dark Knight was my second favorite of 2008 (because, you know...WALL-E). It’s the strange, unmemorable qualities that his films have. I’ve only seen each once (and The Dark Knight in a drive-in), but neither stick with me. I remember the Joker making a pencil disappear, Maggie Gyllenhaal acting embarrassingly, and Aaron Eckhart being awesome.
With Inception, it’s almost the same. I have images stuck in my head, and they’ll probably be some of the most lasting film images of the noveaux-teens, but actual plot? When a movie is pure exposition, it’s hard to allow time to let things sink in. I don’t remember any of the characters or their personalities (although I do remember Marion Cotillard’s smile...makes me melt every time). It’s strange, too, because Inception is well-written and impeccably directed. For the film to work, nothing could be changed to the screenplay.
Maybe it’s my fault. I caught Inception after opening weekend, where everyone had already made Facebook statuses about how their minds were blown and that they needed to see it five more times in order to understand it all. Of course you didn’t need to see it multiple times to understand it – if so, it wouldn’t be a very good film, would it? The movie is perfect in its exhibition of a multi-layered, confusing screenplay and making it all work. So I understood it and didn’t need to see it again (besides, it’s fucking long). Had I seen it again, maybe it wouldn’t be fading from my mind quicker than Marty McFly’s family from the photograph. I’m sure I will see it again and that will help – but then again, even after my first viewing of Memento everything was stuck in my brain. I’m sure it’s my fault, though...
4. The Fighter
Sports movies are lame. Boxing movies have been done to death. Mark Wahlberg movies set in Massachusetts are starting to get old (the world will explode if Wahlberg is in the next Dennis Lehane adaptation!). So why would I be excited for The Figher? What new things would it bring to the table?
Absolutely nothing. It’s the same ol’ underdog story we’ve seen before. Lower-class Massachusetts looks just as rough (or exaggeratedly rough) as it always has. And yet The Fighter has lots of acclaim. Why?
Because it’s really good. Somehow, a generic (albeit true) story gets turned into a compelling, exciting film, and not just because of the actors. While Mark Wahlberg is really good (although I am a Wahlberg defender), Christian Bale and Melissa Leo really stand out. Amy Adams, not so much. I don’t get her praise (she’s serviceable). Is it just because she says “fuck,” which she usually doesn’t do? Being rewarded for playing against type is fine, just as long as it’s a deserving reward.
Outside of the acting, though, The Fighter is still strong. It’s not the best picture of the year (and I don’t actually think anyone considers it such), but it’s hard to find large faults in it. Sure, I could do without the prologue/epilogue with the real Dicky Eklund, but if that’s one of my major complaints, that’s a good sign.
5. The King's Speech
The King’s Speech is a good movie. I only know about one or two people who dislike it, but they also don’t like I Am Love so I discredit their opinion. It’s as crowd-pleasing a movie as a movie can be. A major problem with crowd-pleasing films, though, is that the crowd is pleased and can easily look past its flaws.
Sure, Colin Firth is good and Geoffrey Rush even better (and I stand by that more than I feel that Aaron Eckhart was better than Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight). Firth’s gimmicky performance can win the hearts of audiences, but after having seen the film twice, I’ve decided that it’s not that difficult of a performance. Firth does a good job, but sometimes he doesn’t seem to really try. I think some of that may be the screenplay’s fault (I’m going to buy everyone in the Academy copies of Grown Ups if it wins best original screenplay), but often acting can overcome screenplay faults. Firth can’t do that, and that makes me sad. Rush’s character – infinitely more interesting, exciting, and, in the end, difficult – requires more work (if anything, I think playing a stutterer would be fun). Rush succeeds in every regard, and if Christian Bale hadn’t played a weight-shifting-necessary role, he’d win best supporting actor and I’d be happy.
It’s also the generic, Oscar-bait-ness of the film that annoys me a little. Sure, it is what it is, and I accept that, but think of the possibilities if Rush’s Lionel Logue had been the main character. Since his threads are thin at best, we can only see glimpses of his relationship with his wife, children, and himself, but they’re far more interesting than seeing Firth’s brother, Guy Pearce, have an affair. The film could have gone in such different, edgier directions.
I can’t fault The King’s Speech for what it’s not, though. With the exception of Helena Bonham Carter, the acting is at least notable, the direction is, once again, crowd-pleasing and acceptable, and the screenplay does what it needs to do. It’s a fine film. I think anyone who thinks that it’s the best picture of the year, though, has seen too few 2010 films.
6. Toy Story 3
Pixar’s not infallible. Well, nothing in the film industry is (besides Richard Jenkins), but for some reason people think that everything Pixar makes is perfect. Most of their movies are above average, to say the least, but for every Monsters, Inc. and WALL-E there has to be a Finding Nemo and a Cars (and, um, a Cars 2...). I would be perfectly fine with this very good track record if people hadn’t come to exaggerate Pixar’s greatness. It seems, to me, that people feel compelled to love any Pixar movie that comes about.
That’s not to diss Toy Story 3. It’s very good. It’s beautifully animated with some very good 3D (surprising, eh?). The story’s solid and the voice-acting is fine. It just is a little bothersome...it’s almost pathetic. Not just the fact that Andy, going away to college, has to give up his toys (when I left for school, I didn’t think twice about losing my once-beloved collection of stuffed animals…because I was 18-years old), but also because unlike what people seem to like to believe, there is no Toy Story saga. This isn’t really a conclusion to anything; if it is, it’s to something that didn’t need to be concluded.
What annoys me about Toy Story 3 is its automatic pedestal placement; this is also evident in the film itself. It may not be as smug as failed Oscar hopefuls Somewhere or Blue Valentine, but it knows it’s good and that people will love it. Too bad I didn’t. It’s definitely not even the best animated film of the year (Despicable Me obviously is, although it would be great if The Illusionist won as well). I guess the world’s idolization of Toy Story 3 will be a double-edged sword when we’re treated to Cars 2 later this year.
7. Winter's Bone
One of the most-used adjectives I’ve seen to describe Winter’s Bone is “harrowing.” It’s true that it’s harrowing. It’s also frustrating. There’s an overwhelming sense of things being left out with the express intention of almost making the audience feel dumb. The plot isn’t confusing (although the title is stupid), but there are just too few connections evidence in the film itself.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to rewatch Winter’s Bone before Oscar season. I’m sure I would praise Jennifer Lawrence and John Hawkes a lot (I do recall being impressed by them), but then again, their performances didn’t stick with me since last June, unlike, say, everyone in Greenberg (but that’s another story). I do remember, though, being surprised by everyone’s infatuation with it. I do like the fact that this small film is being recognized, and it’s far from being a mediocre film, but they’re clearly throwing it a (wait for it...) winter’s bone.
8. True Grit
True Grit is possibly the most disappointing movie of 2010 on multiple levels. Much like everyone else in the world, I’m a pretty big Coen brothers fan (but, like Pixar, I know they’re not perfect. I don’t like Barton Fink or even The Big Lebowski all that much). I wondered what spin they would put on what, to me, seemed like a generic Western. Would aliens be involved? Would there be a crossover with A Serious Man, with Rooster Cogburn creating the ideas for the Mentaculus? Would John Goodman or Richard Jenkins be around?
Nope. Not only is True Grit straightforward for the Coen brothers, but it’s straightforward for a film in general (and...dare I say, an Oscar movie?). The first time I saw it, I was disappointed by the Coen brothers. Only one scene really struck me as being Coen-esque (the introduction of Rooster Cogburn in the courtroom); everything else was pretty straight-forward and devoid of auteur-ism. The ending, especially, brought me down. Why isn’t there a cool, crazy epilogue that I’m so used to?
After a little bit of reflection, I realized that that wasn’t fair. Perhaps this was their intention? I can’t fault a movie for not being what I thought it would be. Maybe on a second viewing my opinion would change?
Nope. I was able to accept it a little more for what it was, but I was still bothered by lots of aspects. It doesn’t really have a theme. The plot is pretty threadbare. The character of Maddie Ross doesn’t seem real, or at least, she’s not interesting. I’m also upset by all the praise that Hailee Steinfeld is getting; most of it is condescending because she “holds her own” again Jeff Bridges and Matt Damon. That’s her character, at the least. Maybe she’s a very talented actress; I’ll reserve judgment on that until later.
9. 127 Hours
Overall I’m in the Danny Boyle minority. I like Sunshine and Trainspotting as much as the next person, but other than that, I’m just not a fan. I didn’t hate 28 Days Later, and Millions is alright, but Slumdog Millionaire is pretty offensive. 127 Hours, Boyle’s follow-up to the should-have-stayed-direct-to-DVD Slumdog, is at least not offensive and imperialistic. It’s just not very good.
My theater got 127 Hours in November and it underwhelmed. I assumed it was going to just be another failed Oscar movie (like Conviction and, sadly, Never Let Me Go). For some reason, I get extreme satisfaction when Oscar bait fails. I always like when the Academy goes out on a limb (I wasn’t following closely in 2006 but The Departed winning? Surprised the hell out of me!) and I thought that 127 Hours would fall by the wayside. I’d allow James Franco to get recognition. Other than that, everyone should forget about 127 Hours as much as they forgot about Millions.
Yes, James Franco is very good in 127 Hours. He’s obviously overshadowed by all of the negative aspects of the film – the lack of subtlety in the filmmaking, the strange, unexplained and unwelcomed superheroness of the character, the boring and surprising stupidness, etc. – but it’s still nice that a good performance in a crappy Oscar bait film is being recognized. If only the film were just as unrecognized.
10. The Kids Are All Right
I usually look forward to the faux-indie comedy of the mid-to-late summer. Little Miss Sunshine is great and (500) Days of Summer is hard to top. Imagine my disappointment, then, when I see the trailer for 2010’s The Kids Are All Right. I try to keep my hopes up: like Mark Ruffalo’s character, I love lesbians, but there’s nothing that’s drawing me to it besides, obviously, having to see it. I especially don’t like the part in the trailer where Julianne Moore kisses Mark Ruffalo, since she is, you know, a lesbian.
Imagine my disappointment, then, when the film is worse than the trailer. The screenplay is all over the place, the acting is unremarkable to downright terrible (see Mia Wasikowska’s horrible drunk acting), it’s incredibly unpleasant, it’s not at all quirky or hip when it thinks it is, and, probably worst of all, it’s a disgrace to its title (The Who should sue, after the Talking Heads win the case with Todd Solondz for the just-about-as-bad-but-at-least-it’s-got-Paul-Reubens Life During Wartime). The film hops around from one fractured scene to the next. The worst example: the film sets up their kid Laser (that’s right..Laser. THEIR KID IS NAMED LASER. THAT IS NOT QUIRKY OR HIP. IT IS STUPID.) as being somewhat troubled, due to a friendship with a bad kid. At one point, his friend wants him to pee on a dog (that’s right…TO PEE ON A DOG. This would NEVER HAPPEN). Laser refuses. And then...that’s the end of this major subplot, about 40 minutes into the movie. As far as I remember, Laser does nothing else (besides have the stupidest name in film history since, like, Keyser Soze [which is a really stupid name once you realize it is]).
That’s not all, though. The film takes a pretty high-horse moral stance with itself. At one point, Julianne Moore, for no reason, fires her nice gardener. It’s supposed to be funny and true. It’s actually hard to watch. These people have a privileged life, invent problems, and we’re supposed to want these problems solved for their sakes. These aren’t characters, created from recesses of a creative mind, exposing the deepest parts of the artist’s mind to expose themselves, ourselves, and the world. They’re upper-middle-class whiny people whose sole purpose is to make the moviegoers feel progressive. They may have secretly voted for Prop 8, but at least they can tell their friends that they saw a gay movie with apparently affable characters (“hey, they live just like me!”).
Also, it’s not funny at all, which comedies should be.