#5 Black Swan
I'll get one thing out of the way first and foremost--I have tons of respect for Darren Aronofsky as a filmmaker. His paced use of follow-shot from behind a character adds tenacity to scenes, his preference for digital handheld shooting is innovative to say the least, and his dark and untreaded subject material is always worth plenty of discussion.
When I saw Black Swan in theaters, I was taken aback. It was everything you could have asked for in a "psycho-sexual thriller". I cringed and even tented my eyes on a couple of occasions; certainly not a movie for the squeamish. By the time the resolution hit and the credits started to roll, I had a sh*t-eating grin on my face. "That was cool," I remember saying. When I walked out of the theater and into the lobby, I kind have had forgotten I had been in a movie theater at all. Oftentimes that's a telltale sign of being enraptured by a film.
However, the problem I have with Aronofsky's films, save The Wrestler, is this:
I never want to see them again.
I don't think you could pay me to watch Requiem for a Dream.
Aronofsky's usual plan to make the viewer squeamishly uncomfortable is as prominent as ever. It's a fantastic watch on the big screen, with all of the noise and light and wild score, but it's not like I'm gonna call the fellas over for a couple beers to watch Black Swan in my TV room (wait, there's one scene, maybe...). I just don't see it translating into further viewings on DVD. It's another Aronofsky one-and-done for me at this point.
I could change my mind on that-at least I'd know the outrageously insane stuff is coming ahead of time. He gets outstanding performances out of his actors, and with all of the time that Portman is on screen and shot-up close and with all of the devotion she put into the role of Nina Sayers, I can't see her not winning the statue, even if she did get slighted by Annette Bening at the Globes. Another one that I thought should have maybe gotten a nod was Vincent Cassel as the creepy choreographer Thomas, who oozes power and sex and convinces Portman to bring more of her dark side to the table. This was probably the first dramatic role I've seen Mila Kunis do, and I liked her as the seemingly unstable temptress and competition.
The viewer begins to lose touch with reality pretty early on in the film, from the moment she splits her first toenail at practice (Really, Aronofksy? Necessary?). Nina is under such microscopic scrutiny by her peers and her batsh*t crazy mother that she can't help but lose her mind. And as she transforms from innocent wunderkind to some sort of split personality who wages war with forces dark and light, Aranofsky never even hints at playing the "this is what really happened" card. Which I think is kind of cool.
This film was a polarizer--everyone I know either loved or hated it. What I have to say is this: An awesome horror-psychological flick. Very well written, acted and crafted. Shockingly uncomfortable, and low on my re-watch list. See it once, enjoy it for what it is, try your best to get the nasty imagery out of your head, and move on. That's Black Swan.
#4 127 Hours
In September of 2006, I called in sick for what would be the only time in my current job, which I've had for just over five years. The reason was a simply idiotic one: I was at the gym in between shifts, and I thought I could handle bench-pressing a whole bunch of weight on my own. Not the case. I went to put the weight back on the bar (can't recall-175, maybe?) and overshot it, resulting in the entire thing coming down and squashing my left ring finger in between the bar itself and the metal portion of the bench.
I looked up, and my fingertip was spraying blood around the weight room. The owner of this particular Lifetime Fitness branch happened to be on the floor, and with his quick thinking, we got me wrapped up and upstairs to an urgent care that happened to be in the same building. Before I got stitches, I called over to my boss with a weary "yeah...not going to be able to make it in today..." and took the afternoon and the next day off. Never since, even though on Friday I ended up with a fever that had me lying down in the nurse's office for the first time in probably 20 years. But that's a whole other story.
I've since learned to ask for a spotter when I'm attempting larger weight and have been shown how to correctly hold a bench-press bar (thanks, Jespsen). The weightlifting story can be connected to 127 Hours in couple of ways. First, with the possible exception of Winter's Bone, it was far-and-away one of the least viewed of the ten nominees, simply because "it's the one where dude chops off his own arm." That part is only two minutes or so, and yeah, it's a little grizzly, but not a whole lot worse than watching a 25-year old moron spurt blood from his ring finger in a gym. Secondly, Aron Ralston should have had a "spotter" with him when he got trapped in a Utah canyon, and by that I mean someone, anyone else.
The movie starts with Aron Ralston (James Franco) doing his best Mountain Dew commercial, biking as fast as he can along dirt roads, kicking up dust, headphones cranked full blast. His extremeness feels a little cheesy at first, but it being shot in the same bright style that Danny Boyle used in Slumdog and showed to the viewer in vivd split and four-screens make it forgivable and fun to watch. He gets off his bike and deeper into canyon territory, where he meets Kristi and Megan (Kate Mara and Amber Tamblyn). It becomes painfully obvious how much of an outdoors nerd he is, as he gives them plenty of tips and pointers before showing them a natural spring to jump into from deep within the rock. After a little fun, they part ways--the girls invite him to a party over the weekend, and he says he'll try and make an appearance.
And that's the last we see of anyone--in the present timeline anyway--for a long time.
As he's jumping from rock to rock, he somehow manages to dislodge a boulder and it comes down with him, trapping his arm and him in the depths of a narrow canyon--Oh Sh*t. From there everything changes. His first priority is to dislodge the boulder, so he tries everything he possibly can with the supplies he has on him. Second priority, conserve food and liquid, which he can do for only so long. Third priority, stay alive. Invent games to keep things interesting. Find ways to keep track of time. Film video diaries. Try not to fall apart.
James Franco is simply outstanding as Ralston, who runs the entire human gamut of emotion and physicality. Unless he is having a dream or acting in a flashback, he's also completely alone. His range is astonishing enough that the viewer experiences the dwindling hope and crushing reality right along with him.
Yes, he cuts off his own arm. If you're not into the blood thing, you can cringe for that two minutes and be fine. You at least know it's coming. But don't avoid the movie just because of that two minutes; it's way too good to miss.
#3 The Town
People say Affleck has had a slew of garbage roles in his day, that his acting is nothing special, and that he's been riding the coattails of talented buddy Matt Damon for going on 15 years.
Some of that may be true, but the guy knows his way around Boston.
The Damon-Affleck penned Good Will Hunting, despite its occasional hokeyness, is one of my all time favorite scripts. I'm a big Casey Affleck fan, so I knew I would dig Gone Baby Gone, but I ended up liking it a ton thanks to Ben's steady direction and choices made behind the camera. The Town shows his confidence has grown as a director, and to tell you the truth, his acting's pretty damn decent, too.
He's Doug MacCray, a repeat-offender who leads a team of four bank robbers in the Charlestown neighborhood of Boston: Himself, the brains; James "Jem" Coughlin (Jeremy Renner), the trigger man; Albert "Gloansy" MaGloan (Slaine), the driver; and Desmond Elden (Owen Burke), the tech wiz. As a crew they've knocked out close to a dozen banks without getting caught. The movie opens with them robbing a bank in Cambridge, clad in masks that evoke Predator. Everything goes according to plan except for one thing--they take a hostage, bank manager Claire Kesey (Rebecca Hall). MacCray begins running surveillance on her to make sure that she doesn't start talking to the wrong people, but amidst his hovering, he ends up starting a relationship with her. That's not shared with anyone, let alone Jem's sister Krista (Blake Lively, perfect in slum Boston garb) with whom he has had a long on-again-off-again relationship and has spent a little bit of time playing surrogate father to her daughter, Shyne.
Other factors in Doug's life are FBI agents Frawley and Campa (Jon Hamm, exuding his usual Draper smugness, and Titus Welliver, LOST's Man in Black) and his boss, Fergie (Pete Postelthwaite, rest in peace), a vicious man who runs drugs and other criminal jobs out of his flower shop. Before too long, he's falling harder for Claire and wants out of the bank game. No one, however, is interested in him walking away quite yet. Especially Jem, who believes in his heart that he just finished serving his nine year bid exclusively for Doug. MacRay has a different take: "Here's a little f---ing cheat sheet for you. It's never gonna be you and me and your sister and Shyne playing house up there. You got it?"
Affleck does a great job in the conflicted protagonist role which yes, has traces of Will Hunting with his warring desires and his dealing with everyone else's push and pull. Renner is even better as the loose cannon who is governed by the rules of the old neighborhood. And Jon Hamm should be in the supporting discussion as well, with his sly and accurate portrayal of an FBI agent gone for broke. Everyone's good, everyone's real, everyone is very Boston.
BEFORE #2, I'll say this...
My #1 and #2 have flip-flopped back and forth countless times. It has been agonizing trying to decide which of the two I like better, and why. I'll have what I think is a solid justification, and then second-guess it. Thing is, I don't believe in ties when it comes to something be crowned. So as of today, even though I'm sure it has the capacity to switch back to #1 anytime, my #2 film of the year is:
#2 The Fighter
There are many excellent casts in the movies this year, but no ensemble quite as tightly knit and pitch-perfect as this one. This is the third Massachusetts movie to make the top eight, so it's been a busy and important year for that fah-kin' state.
Believe it or not, I hadn't seen Rocky until recently--within the last few years, anyway. I thought it was pretty good. Sylvester Stallone is so dunderheaded and goofy-sounding it at times made it hard to concentrate. The classic soundtrack, the run up the stairs, the fight with Apollo Creed--of course all of those moments were legendary to finally see on the screen.
Quite honestly though, I thought that The Fighter may have been a better boxing movie. I know that's a very audacious claim and everything, but if you put the two DVDs in front of me, chances are I'd probably choose the newer of the two.
The mercurial David O. Russell, who somehow found himself angry enough to call Lily Tomlin the most disgraceful of words on the set of I Heart Huckabees and notoriously get into brawls with George Clooney during the filming of Three Kings has seemingly settled down a little bit and has directed his way back into prominence. The film is shot using a handheld as well as old stock film and it feels very authentic.
The acting performances are so good that the movie's lead, Mark Wahlberg, is possibly the weak link out of the bunch. Wahlberg plays amateur boxer Micky Ward who is training to be a welterweight champion. He'd be there already, but he's being held back from his jailbird half brother, ex-boxer and crack-addict Dickie Eklund (Christian Bale), his controlling mother Alice (Melissa Leo), and his seven sisters (played by various actresses). He trains with his brother and Mickey O'Keeffe (playing himself), but his brother is unreliable, spending altogether too much time with the wrong crowd, playing hooky and smoking crack. The entire time, Eklund's behaviors are being taped by an HBO documetarian, which he believes to be about his glory as a fighter. Instead, it's about crack use, and when he comes to figure that out, it happens in a such a compelling way that it almost brings you to tears.
There are ups and downs, but in the end it is a feel-good story. Amy Adams shows range as Ward's girlfriend Charlene, trying to be one good influence in a storm of people who claim they know "what's best" for him. Melissa Leo's Alice tries to balance her love for Micky and Dickie but ultimately tries to coddle them both. And the seven sisters sit on their Lowell couches and La-Z-Boys, a smart-mouthed Greek chorus of giant perms, beers and cigarette smoke. A couple were actresses (one of which Conan O'Brien's sister), but most were unknowns, and they were phenomenal.
But the best performance of the year, supporting or otherwise, goes in my opinion to Christian Bale. Like The Machinist, Bale dropped a bunch of weight to simulate an unhealthy lifestyle, in this case of a junkie. The way he talks about his past glories, the way he smiles sheepishly when people try to worry about him, and the range he shows when he learns he's been duped by the documentary will take your breath away. I was beyond impressed with the frailty he brought to the role. Again, unbelievable performances from everyone.
See you soon with #1, and a couple of other things to wrap-up.
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