I still wholly believe this film is much too long, its
third act as superfluous as it is detrimental to the entire 007 mystique. But I
can’t refute the fact that its complete package – everything from the impeccable
cinematography to the lighting to the score – left me with a sense of
wonderment. Mendes has created a bold image of 007 in the 21st century, as self-reflective as it is self-indulgent. And in a world where movie franchises
often meet ignominious deaths as studios milk every last dollar, James Bond
once again proves why he’s lasted 50 years and will undoubtedly return for
more.
Honorable Mention: Chronicle
The best non-superhero superhero film of the year, Chronicle took a standard template and
wove it into something extraordinary. It was more emotionally intimate than The Dark Knight Rises, more visually
thrilling than The Avengers. It dared
to push the bullied teenager with special powers concept - a framework that The Amazing Spider Man had a prime
opportunity to explore but pitifully squandered - into a realm rarely ever
seen. It was realistic and gritty, angry and heartbreaking – this year’s best
example that fantasy storytelling and emotional depth are indeed not mutually
exclusive.
#5: Sound of My Voice
Taut and thrilling yet elegantly simple, Sound of My Voice was one of the most
pleasant surprises of the year. Its storytelling technique isn't overly
complex, its visuals not exceedingly flashy; but it manages to spin a damn good
yarn. This was one of the few films in recent memory wherein I literally did
not know what was around the corner. Its storytelling finesse was undeniably
brilliant, its execution pitch perfect. This is the reason we go to the movies;
more tales ought to follow in its footsteps.
#4: Amour
As the title suggests, Amour is a story about love. But it is not a love story. You won't
find pledges of happily-ever-after. Or vows of I'll-never-forget. This is a
cold film in the best sense of the word - a cynic taking hold of something sentimental,
a critic crossing something tragic. It's an odd but potent mixture of nobility,
warmth, and compassion that doesn’t set out to reassure the world that
everything will be alright – because in actuality, it won’t – but instead, lets us all pass on with a glimmer of dignity, grace, and peace.
#3: The Queen of Versailles
I believe in the American dream. It's wonderful and inviting and appealing because above all things, it presents the illusion that this is all attainable. The Queen of Versailles casts an amusing but compassionate eye on not only the flaws of David Siegel, the timeshare magnate who dreams of building the largest single-family home in America, but on the hubris of humanity in general. Its metaphor is as sad as it is apt - the inept Queen is Jackie Siegel, the 21st century equivalent of Marie Antoinette, draped in all her lavish garbs, surrounded by all her gaudy excesses, completely oblivious to the storm brewing right outside her palace windows. This is not how the other 1 percent lives; this is how the 0.1 percent lives.
#2: Compliance
Fear stems from the unknown. And that maxim is taken to
an extreme in the best horror film of the year. A potent mix of true facts and
cinematic performance, Compliance was
a small movie that could have been easily overlooked, lost among the ruins of
the superhero rubble, trampled under the barrage of hairy Hobbit feet. But it’s
a film that dares to ask big questions and provoke even greater emotions. It
revolts but fascinates, enrages but sympathizes. It’s a morally intrusive
reflection of humanity’s greatest strengths and greatest flaws, a tale that is as
repulsive as it is irresistible.
#1: Jiro Dreams of Sushi
Jiro may indeed dream of sushi, but this movie conjures
up images and ideas that vastly eclipse simple morsels of seafood and rice. It’s
a brave story – a tale of creative will and unquenchable desire – that starts
off posing as a food-porn documentary but soon evolves to dissect something far
greater. Jiro Ono is a man whose relationship with his work – and to a great
degree, his entire life - wavers on that fine line between love and madness.
His views on career and family – the perseverance and drive needed to perfect something,
anything, over the course of an entire life – says more about the way we choose to live our lives now in the 21st century than any other film this year.
