Most film critics are list fetishists. And while I do enjoy stacking up movie
titles at the end of the year, it's also a frustrating holiday ritual. First
off, I've seen a few hundred movies this year, and yet inevitably a few slip by
that, based on the buzz they are receiving, I suspect would rank on this list.
This year those include
feature films like Tabu and Once Upon a Time in Anatolia
and documentaries like Brooklyn Castle and This is Not a Film.
Also, going over all the movies I saw this year, it was hard to let some go
unmentioned. Sure, Steven Soderbergh had a great year with Magic Mike and
Haywire, but how do those compare with The Turin Horse? I was also big fan of
the insanely exciting Indonesian martial arts film The Raid: Redemption, but how
do you compare that with Bernie? Then there are the films you list because,
despite their flaws, they have a particular personal resonance. Sarah Polle's
adept direction of Take This Waltz, and Michele Williams' endearing performance
in that film, have not garnered mention on many other year-end lists, but the
movie stayed with me for so many months I couldn't leave it off mine.
1. Amour (Dir. Michael Haneke)
Haneke's quiet movie about a dying woman and her devoted husband is simply
unshakable. In it we encounter two of the most subtly rendered characters on
screen this year, and their last days inside a modest Parisian apartment reveal
so much about human interrelation. Here Haneke's penchant for starkly-drawn
worlds allows for an exploration of character and affection that resists
sentimentality and nostalgia. Instead, his straightforward rendering lays bare
our longings, frailties, fears, and failings.
There are plenty of movies this year that try to engage with the peculiar
confusion of contemporary life – from blinding violence to a splintered sense of
self – but Haneke's film reminds us that perhaps what we often fail to grasp is
a nuanced appreciation of the nature of a love that is hard-bearing,
sacrificial, violent, open-ended, enigmatic, and necessary.
2. Holy Motors (Dir. Leos Carax)
Leos Carax's Holy Motors is befuddling, enrapturing, diabolical,
exhilarating, infuriating, and beguiling. It is a movie-riddle that strikes at
something unsettling close to the core of existence. In it, Denis Lavant
delivers the year's best singular performance as a hard-to-pin-down actor who
glides through Paris in a stretch limo, performing living scenes. It takes a
while to begin to understand what Carax is up to with his film, which breaks
down our expectations of what we take to be "true" or "real," initially in a
cinematic sense, and then more broadly. Lavant plays a businessman, an actor, an
artist, a performer, a beggar, a thief, a murder, a father, a scoundrel, a
lover, a dying relative. He is lived contradiction, honesty manifested as a lie,
whose presence serves as a foil both to society and existence.
Holy Motors is an unholy satire, an elusive and beguiling critique of life
itself. Through his character, Carax breaks-down his audience, spinning Holy
Motors into a carnivalesque hall of mirrors, an image play about images. "What
is beauty if there is no beholder?" Lavant's character speculates at one point.
The answer that emerges in the movie is that beauty is something equal parts
seductive and horrifying — horrifying, perhaps, because, as we fear (and begin
to suspect), in the context of Carax's vision of reality, it may be nothing at
all.
3. Zero Dark Thirty (Dir. Katheryn Bigelow)
There has been no small amount of controversy surrounding Katheryn Bigelow's
new film. Objections have been raised regarding its depiction of torture, its
glorification of war, its blurred moral stance on human rights, its possibly
racist depictions of Muslims, its conflicting characterization of feminist
vigilantism, its suspected historical untruths and journalistic indiscretions,
its flagrant breaching of national secrets, and what might be characterized as
callous patriotic blood-lust.
The reason for all of these muddy and uneasy reactions to Bigelow's movie is
that while Zero Dark Thirty appears in the form of an exciting Hollywood movie
about search and capture of Osama bin Laden, it is equally a challenging
critique – of the institutional structures that drove the manhunt, of the
structure of human reason and capacity for understanding that deciphered the
riddle of bin Laden's location, of the seek-and-destroy mentality that ended up
leading a team of Navy Seals to the hated terrorist leader. And while Zero Dark
Thirty is ostensibly a movie about hunting for bin Laden, it is also a piece of
entertainment that raises its very entertainment as a crucial point of moral
questioning. If hunting and killing bin Laden was a victory for America, than
Americans share complicity in the murky and unsettling means to that end.
