Since we recently concluded a decade, there have been a few "best of" lists for those ten years. Let's chip in! Rather than go through the process of picking out the ten best movies regardless of where they fell (I have been very obsessive about ranking movies in the past), I figured I'd list my favorite from each year.
2010: Inception
I've been a big fan of Christopher Nolan since Memento. I went back and watched Following when I became aware of its existence. Memento was my favorite movie for a while. The Dark Knight instantly was a favorite. Outside of Batman, Inception became Nolan's most famous movie thanks to its trippy visuals (later replicated in Doctor Strange) and outstanding cast. It singlehandedly revived Tom Hardy's career!
2011: Warrior
Speaking of Hardy, Warrior was my favorite movie released a year later. It's Hardy's Brando moment. And he stars opposite Joel Edgerton in his breakthrough role. It's an unspeakably breathtaking cinematic achievement on a strictly human scale, in a decade that increasingly belonged to spectacle. Many dismiss it as an MMA movie, but if it is, then it's the Rocky of MMA movies, and nobody ever dismissed Rocky as a boxing movie.
2012: Django Unchained
I thought Quentin Tarantino and Christoph Waltz had engineered magic in Inglourious Basterds, but I hadn't seen anything yet. Waltz has continued to be a significant presence in film, but he will never top the moment he tells Leonardo DiCaprio that the writer (Alexander Dumas) he was attempting to use to legitimize slavery was actually black.
2013: Saving Mr. Banks
The incredible story of how Mary Poppins was made not only gave Tom Hanks an unexpectedly brilliant role as Walt Disney, but Colin Farrell another career highlight as the inspiration for the title. The whole thing is great insight into the creative process, besides.
2014: Interstellar
Here's Christopher Nolan again! A lot of viewers, I think, were exhausted over his supposed genius. They saw Inception. They were wowed by Inception. But for a lot of people, one towering achievement can never truly be followed by another. So they saw Interstellar and thought..."Well that's not 2001: A Space Odyssey," a movie it superficially resembles. I was never wowed by 2001. I ended up reading all four Arthur C. Clarke books at one point, but I never thought the books, or the Stanley Kubrick movie, was really as great as they clearly want to be. But Interstellar is truly great, and it achieves that status by being transcendent, which is what 2001 desperately wants to be, but instead is just one of those projects that grapples at big ideas but doesn't know what to do with them except toss them up on a page or the screen. And as he always is, Nolan is in full control of Interstellar, and I still wonder if it's his best film.
2015: The Force Awakens
Okay, I'm a Star Wars nerd, but in the same way I'm a Star Trek nerd. I generally like all of it, even the stuff most of the fans despise. It's not because I'm indiscriminant, but that I don't choose to hate something just because it exists, which seems like the primary motivating factor of a lot of fans, even if they will never admit it and come up with a million things to defend their views. So I really loved seeing another Star Wars trilogy begin. And this was a great beginning.
2016: Arrival
Denis Villeneuve is about as close to the second coming of Christopher Nolan as we're likely to get, at least anytime soon. I missed Prisoners when it was released, but was sufficiently wowed when I got around to it. And he has never disappointed me. And Arrival is a masterpiece (still want to read the original short story on which it's based), the best showcase Amy Adams has gotten in an already phenomenal career.
2017: Logan
After Dark Knight, this is the best superhero movie ever made. Hugh Jackman was born to play Wolverine, and this is the performance he was building toward all along, and everything around him works, at last, equally well.
2018: Isle of Dogs
A hugely charming fable, exquisitely put together, a towering artistic achievement from Wes Anderson.
2019: The Man Who Killed Don Quixote
I can't stop praising this one. I've been a fan of Terry Gilliam since before I really had a personal reason to be (that was how much I loved The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus), and so I was well aware of the tortured history to this becoming a reality, so it was a great relief to see how much it was worth the wait. Especially having recently read and very much enjoyed the original Cervantes, to see how cleverly Gilliam updated it, with enough original charm, I'm still aghast at how little anyone else seems to care.
Showing posts with label Isle of Dogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Isle of Dogs. Show all posts
Saturday, January 11, 2020
Saturday, July 28, 2018
Isle of Dogs (2018)
rating: *****
the story: A corrupt politician creates a conspiracy to exile all dogs, but his adopted son mounts a campaign to rescue them.
what it's all about: The exact parallels aren't there, and they don't need to be, but Isle of Dogs might be the first great cinematic response to Trump, regardless of where you are on the political spectrum. Its plot can be seen as a response to Trump's immigration policies. But regardless of all that, it's a great film, the crowning artistic achievement of Wes Anderson's career.
Anderson has made a career of creating quirky movies. He's become increasingly ambitious over the years. 2001's The Royal Tenenbaums was his first widely-acknowledged success, but Anderson took a giant leap forward with his follow-up, 2004's The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, which can be interpreted as a modern, absurdist's version of Moby-Dick. 2009's Fantastic Mr. Fox, a stylistic herald to Isle of Dogs, saw Anderson begin to break free entirely of conventions, while 2014's The Grand Budapest Hotel saw him emerge on a truly grand scale for the first time.
Isle of Dogs, no matter how you interpret it, even if it's only to be understood as a generic cautionary tale, is a wholly contained accomplishment, a complete vision capable of being enjoyed on multiple levels. The title itself is a nod and a wink; you can love it if all you are is a dog lover. This is an era that relishes simple pleasures, after all. You can relish it for the rich vocal cast, a true embarrassment of riches that continues Grand Budapest Hotel's most simple pleasure, all those small roles filled by well-known actors. You have Bryan Cranston, still justifiably riding the wave of his breakthrough performance in Breaking Bad, in the lead role. You have Edward Norton and Liev Schreiber just below him. You have Bill Murray, you have Jeff Goldblum, you have Scarlett Johansson, you have Bob Balaban, Greta Gerwig, Harvey Keitel. You even have Fisher Stevens! You have Courtney B. Vance as narrator!
You can appreciate it as a boy's quest movie. You can appreciate it as the rare movie omitting subtitles despite heavy usage of Japanese characters speaking Japanese. You can appreciate it for subverting the "white savior" concept, despite criticism that it plays into that concept. Gerwig voices an American schoolgirl who leads a peoples revolution against the corrupt politician, but in the end it isn't her actions that produce the happy ending, but the adopted son's, who is Japanese, and the dogs, all of whom have plenty of reasons not to work together, but do. And that's as much the message of the movie as anything else, that idea of putting aside differences that seems to have been utterly lost today.
The music is intrinsic to all this. Not just the taiko drumming. Another criticism of the movie is that it takes a white man's poor understanding of Japanese culture and assumes it's being accurate. The whole point of omitting subtitles is acknowledging the cultural divides that even the dogs represent, speaking English (dogs don't speak English). It's metaphor, people. There's nothing intrinsically Japanese about this movie, it's a creative choice, in a movie brilliantly bursting with them. Very few directors in history have made as many of them, and as many of them as well, as Wes Anderson has in Isle of Dogs. The constant drum beats, with or without taiko drums, and the anonymous indy-style songs, are incumbent of a talent who has been synthesizing the castoffs of film history for decades, and come up with a masterpiece from them.
I don't know if this is going to remain my favorite movie of 2018, but it's going to be difficult to beat.
the story: A corrupt politician creates a conspiracy to exile all dogs, but his adopted son mounts a campaign to rescue them.
what it's all about: The exact parallels aren't there, and they don't need to be, but Isle of Dogs might be the first great cinematic response to Trump, regardless of where you are on the political spectrum. Its plot can be seen as a response to Trump's immigration policies. But regardless of all that, it's a great film, the crowning artistic achievement of Wes Anderson's career.
Anderson has made a career of creating quirky movies. He's become increasingly ambitious over the years. 2001's The Royal Tenenbaums was his first widely-acknowledged success, but Anderson took a giant leap forward with his follow-up, 2004's The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, which can be interpreted as a modern, absurdist's version of Moby-Dick. 2009's Fantastic Mr. Fox, a stylistic herald to Isle of Dogs, saw Anderson begin to break free entirely of conventions, while 2014's The Grand Budapest Hotel saw him emerge on a truly grand scale for the first time.
Isle of Dogs, no matter how you interpret it, even if it's only to be understood as a generic cautionary tale, is a wholly contained accomplishment, a complete vision capable of being enjoyed on multiple levels. The title itself is a nod and a wink; you can love it if all you are is a dog lover. This is an era that relishes simple pleasures, after all. You can relish it for the rich vocal cast, a true embarrassment of riches that continues Grand Budapest Hotel's most simple pleasure, all those small roles filled by well-known actors. You have Bryan Cranston, still justifiably riding the wave of his breakthrough performance in Breaking Bad, in the lead role. You have Edward Norton and Liev Schreiber just below him. You have Bill Murray, you have Jeff Goldblum, you have Scarlett Johansson, you have Bob Balaban, Greta Gerwig, Harvey Keitel. You even have Fisher Stevens! You have Courtney B. Vance as narrator!
You can appreciate it as a boy's quest movie. You can appreciate it as the rare movie omitting subtitles despite heavy usage of Japanese characters speaking Japanese. You can appreciate it for subverting the "white savior" concept, despite criticism that it plays into that concept. Gerwig voices an American schoolgirl who leads a peoples revolution against the corrupt politician, but in the end it isn't her actions that produce the happy ending, but the adopted son's, who is Japanese, and the dogs, all of whom have plenty of reasons not to work together, but do. And that's as much the message of the movie as anything else, that idea of putting aside differences that seems to have been utterly lost today.
The music is intrinsic to all this. Not just the taiko drumming. Another criticism of the movie is that it takes a white man's poor understanding of Japanese culture and assumes it's being accurate. The whole point of omitting subtitles is acknowledging the cultural divides that even the dogs represent, speaking English (dogs don't speak English). It's metaphor, people. There's nothing intrinsically Japanese about this movie, it's a creative choice, in a movie brilliantly bursting with them. Very few directors in history have made as many of them, and as many of them as well, as Wes Anderson has in Isle of Dogs. The constant drum beats, with or without taiko drums, and the anonymous indy-style songs, are incumbent of a talent who has been synthesizing the castoffs of film history for decades, and come up with a masterpiece from them.
I don't know if this is going to remain my favorite movie of 2018, but it's going to be difficult to beat.
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