My Decade in Movies [Zombie's Top Ten, Part I]

When 'Backer posed the challenge to the League of listing and explaining our top movies of the decade, I immediately spent the next several weeks listing every movie I'd absolutely loved in the last ten years. I was left with a list of a few dozen movies that I found very memorable - and absolutely no way to narrowing that list down. What criteria am I supposed to apply? Do I go for the movies I had the most fun watching, or the ones I felt had the best screenplays? Which ones I've re-watched the most times? None of these choices seemed to fit, so I decided to try something a bit different.

This last decade was a very transformative one for me - as both a person and as a writer. I started the aughts in high school - over the next ten years, I'd go through four years of screenwriting training at NYU, meet lots of inspirational, like-minded writers, graduate and eventually start pre-production on my own film. I'm in a far, far different place going into 2010 than I was in 2000.What does that mean in terms of films, though?

For this prompt, I'll explore the ten movies over the last decade that I feel impacted me the most on a writer. When I look back on my (hopefully long, hopefully successful) screenwriting career many years from now, I feel like my writing will still show some trace of these movies that just hit me at the right place at the right time.

So, without further ado...

2001 - Mulholland Drive


Sometime just before seeing Mulholland Drive was when I decided I was going to pursue a career as a screenwriter. I'd always toyed with the idea growing up, writing plays and short movies for my friends and family, but the summer of 2001 was when the idea cemented in my brain. I am going to be a writer even if it takes me my whole damn life.

I had first seen Blue Velvet sometime a few months earlier and it quickly became one of my favorite movie (and still is, to this day). The concept of auteur filmmaking was still pretty foreign to me. (I understood that Dario Argento and Quentin Tarantino had styles they carried from film to film, but that was as deep as my knowledge went.) David Lynch was one of the first directors whose body of work I specifically hunted down and barreled through. Mulholland Drive was the first Lynch movie that was new at the time I saw it.

Mulholland Drive begins as one thing, but by the time the movie hits its three-quarter mark you're not sure what it is at all anymore. The surreal fever dream that breaks out for the last half hour of the movie was one of the most unsettling, horrific, haunting pieces of film that I'd been exposed to. (Seriously - the film goes batshit crazy.) I remember coming to the end of the movie, calling a friend while the credits were still rolling and urging him to drive over, and then watching it all again that same night.

We debated the meaning of Mulholland Drive's ending until the wee hours of the morning, coming up with several different theories but none that seemed to fit exactly. This process repeated again and again - I'd watch and rewatch the movie with different friends, family members and other acquaintances, hoping that someone would catch something that I'd missed each time and crack the Mulholland Drive code. What the hell did it mean?

After I learned that the movie started as an aborted ABC TV series and that the last half hour probably didn't have any meaning at all - I at first felt let down, but after a while I embraced it more than ever. Some films tell a story. Some tell a story with a message. And some - like this one - don't really have a story or a message; but, they create a unique experience. Despite my search for the answers to Mulholland Drive proved to be frustrating and futile, watching the movie was an experience I enjoyed, the first time I watched it through the tenth time. And that has to be a sign of asuccess, right?

2000 - Battle Royale


I came across Battle Royale in a very roundabout way - which makes sense, as growing up a teenager in rural Ohio you just don't discover foreign film on your own. (I didn't see a video store that stocked any until I moved to NYC and was spoiled by the recently-deceased Kim's Video.)

I caught the Flaming Lips touring with Beck when their tour stopped in Cleveland in '02. During the Lips' vibrant and glitter-fueled stage show a large screen hung where scenes of exploding Japanese schoolgirls were projected behind the band. Naturally, this violent, bloody imagery stuck in my brain - when I got home from the concert I immediately jumped on the internet to find out just what the hell Wayne Coyne & Co. had exposed me to. It didn't take long for someone to point me to Kinji Fukasaku's Battle Royale.

I bought a horribly-subtitled bootleg DVD from eBay and eagerly dug in. Wow - these crazy kids were just massacre-ing the bajeezus out of each other! I have never seen anything this insane! I wish I knew could tell what the heck was going on! It was love at first sight.

With a new awareness that filmmaking happened outside of the U.S., U.K. and Canada, I then wondered - was all foreign film like this? Are they all this messed up?

2001 - Amelie


Aaaand Amelie proved to be the polar opposite of Battle Royale. As soon as my eyes were opened to foreign film, I eagerly grabbed my Columbia House catalog, flipped to the back and immediately ordered all five non-English movies they had in-stock. Two weeks later my package arrived and I tore in.

Whoooooa, whoa, whoa. This movie didn't have any axe-wielding Asian school girls, but it certainly had a lot of other things to offer. I was instantly enamored with the director, Jeunet, and his adorable, waifish leading lady, Audrey Tautou. To this day, no movie has outright charmed my pants off like this one. It's as twee as can be, but you can't help but just love it to death.

I can probably blame Amelie's influence for turning the female leads of my screenplays into Manic Pixie Dream Girls - a tendency I've been working to break myself of. The next time I write a female character whose sole personality trait is "cute" - I'll look in your direction, Miss Tautou.

In any case, this movie pushed me head-over-heels for foreign cinema. Practically to a fault, actually - for a period I'd convinced myself that Hollywood was morally bankrupt and completely bereft of ideas. I might have been right - but by limiting myself to subtitled flicks for this period caused me to miss out on a lot of really great domestic cinema.

2001 - Spirited Away


Let's go back a little bit. My initial fear of subtitles for some reason didn't apply to anime. I was an an anime nerd from my early teenage years, when my older cousin introduced me to Akira, Project A-Ko and the like. I did not fear subtitles on my animated films; on the contrary, I preferred them. (Yeah, I was THAT guy on the internet forums.)

Spirited Away (and a few choice selections from the rest of Miyazaki's filmography) is the perfect example of what a filmmaker with unlimited imagination can do when they are presented with unlimited means. An entire world is created here, much more 'real' than anything the James Camerons and Peter Jacksons of the world can make with truckloads of studio money. That's the animation advantage - if you can dream something up, it can be realized visually. It's a shame that so few animation studios outside of Ghibli and Pixar seem to be aware of animation's full potential.

The child enters a surreal dreamworld in this film that is mysterious, beautiful and terrifying all at the same time - and absolutely believable. To me, this movie does everything that Spike Jonze's Where the Wild Things Are tried to do earlier this year - only so much better.

2001 - Wet Hot American Summer


Wet Hot American Summer seemed like a rare creature in the early 2000s - a lowbrow comedy that wasn't an American Pie, Scary Movie or Austin Powers sequel - could it be?! And it DOESN'T star Rob Schneider or David Spade? God, what a black hole the late '90s, early '00s were for humor...

Wet Hot American Summer is silly. That's really the best way to describe it. If you can buy that everything that happens in this movie takes place over the course of one day, you're gold. If you've already accepted that the 30-something actors are playing teenagers, this shouldn't be a problem. By the time you get past all of the above, you won't question talking soup cans, telekinetic teens or children averting armageddon from the comfort of their summer camp. This movie is all over the place, but in a good way. Sure, there's crude humor in there, but the film isn't driven purely by dick jokes like way too many comedies are these days.

This movie showed that a script can be silly for silliness' sake and still become a viable movie in the new millenium. Most importantly, Wet Hot American Summer reminded me you don't have to f*ck a pie to get a laugh.

[Check back later for the second half of Zombie's Top Ten of the Decade]

Cake Man's List for the Top 10 Movies of the Decade - part 2

As promised, here are my choices for Top Ten of the Decade numbers 5 through 1.

5. THE WRESTLER (2008). The Wrestler caught me completely by surprise. I had an opportunity to attend an advance screening, which was followed by a Q&A with director Darren Aronofsky. As a major fan of Requiem for a Dream  (coughNumberThreecough), I went mostly for the chance to hear him talk. What I got from the viewing by itself was more value from the experience than I had hoped to get from the night.

It’s not often that I feel as though a drama has just hit me in the gut. Most dramas that don’t easily fall prey to obvious melodrama (and those are few and far between) tend to get weighed down by their characters’ obstacles, emotions, or the director and/or screenwriter’s goals. As a viewer, it’s easy to guess what’s coming around the corner or to feel let down by events that you know will happen. The Wrestler surprised me on multiple occasions. When Mickey Rourke’s The Ram – his professional wrestler alias – suffers a heart attack and is told he has to get out of the ring, that’s immediately what he does. I’ve been so accustomed to characters always acting in their own worst interest in dramas that I was taken aback by his health-conscious decision. But that did more than surprise me; it got me on board with the protagonist. Here’s a guy who is just trying to keep himself going (physically, emotionally, mentally) that we want to see him succeed. When he fails and is upset, we’re upset. When he’s happy, we’re right there with him. The Wrestler culminates in one of the most poignant, touching, and memorable scenes I’ve seen in years, and probably longer than that if you only consider movies I’ve seen in theatres. It was a punch to the gut that floored me – in a good way – and instantly cemented itself on this list the moment the credits rolled.

4. MAN ON FIRE (2004). Man on Fire, starring Denzel Washington and directed by Tony Scott, is not only a revenge thriller, to me, it is one of the definitive revenge thrillers. Set in Mexico City, a city rampant with kidnappings, the film stars Washington as ex-mercenary John Creasy, an alcoholic former warrior who is deeply haunted by the ghosts of his past. When a business man (Marc Anthony) hires Creasy in what promises to be an easy job protecting his daughter, Pita, Creasy finds himself growing unexpectedly attached to the girl in his care. Therefore, when Pita is kidnapped and apparently killed in a kidnapping gone awry (one that leads Creasy to multiple injuries), war is on.

Man on Fire had to be on this list, because it’s something that I can watch almost any time of day. If I’m sitting at home channel surfing, and this happens to come across the screen, I’ll stop and watch – at least for twenty minutes. This movie is more than just a good revenge flick, though. (That said, anyone looking to make a Punisher or Taken or The Brave One should watch Man on Fire. A lot.) The acting is incredibly solid. The relationship between Creasy and Pita feels natural with very little of the almost requisite cheese. Of course, the action and “I’m gonna kill them all” attitude is explosive (sometimes literally). On top if it all, the soundtrack, which includes the ever beautiful vocal work by Lisa Gerrard, is stirring. At almost two and a half hours, Man on Fire isn’t short, yet the running time never once deters me from throwing this into the DVD player. At the end of the day, I think that it’s the mix of incredibly strong action with at times quite moving emotion that earns Man on Fire a high spot on my list.

3. REQUIEM FOR A DREAM (2000). Talk about a difficult watch. Darren Aronofsky’s second film on this list (hmmm… a pattern, perhaps?) is perhaps the most visually stunning films about drug addiction that’s ever been made. It’s also one of the least compromising. So filled with imagery and stories about the horrors that drug addiction can lead to is Requiem for a Dream that I honestly believe it should be shown in high school health classes. If ever there was a movie that turned me off to drugs, this was it.

Jennifer Connelly and Jared Leto play Marion and Harry, a young couple deeply in love and enjoying their life together. Their friend Tyrone (an amazing job by Marlon Wayans – one of the only things I’ve liked a Wayans brother in) and Harry’s mother Sara (Ellen Burstyn), round out their happy little family. Over the course of the 102 minute runtime, all four key characters go from happy go luck to deeply troubled (and in trouble), all because of drugs. Harry and Tyrone’s pot use leads to dealing and to heroine addiction. Marion’s demons drive her to whoring herself out for toxins, and Sara’s addiction to medication (which have been overprescribed to her) land her mentally crippled in a hospital. What’s most amazing to me is how much I feel for all of these characters every time I watch the film and how beautiful the finished product is. Requiem is unquestionable evidence that Aronofsky knows how to set up a shot and tell a compelling story. This choice, along with The Wrestler (not surprisingly) is one of the most dramatic films on my top 10 list, and it never fails to move me. While not one that I can watch over and over due to the incredibly heavy content, Requiem for a Dream in infinitely rewarding each time I do decide to embark upon it again.

2. TSOTSI (2005) South African. Full disclosure: I love South Africa. I’ve been there twice now, and I hope to have a home there some day. That said, I can’t remember how I first heard about the 2005 Academy Award winner for Best Foreign Language Film. I think I might have watched it on an airplane to South Africa. Whatever the case might be, I was instantly taken with Tsotsi. “Tsotsi” means “thug” and is the protagonist’s street name in the stirring film about a street tough who carjacks a car, shooting the female passenger in the process, only to discover the woman’s baby in the back seat shortly thereafter. Set in the shantytowns of Johannesburg and directed by Gavin Hood (who would go on to be involved in the problematic Wolverine Origins), Tsotsi is ultimately about redemption.

As a human being, Tsotsi is trouble. Not only does he unflinchingly paralyze a woman while stealing her car, but he beats one of his own friends to a bloody pulp. However, we also get the sense that he’s someone who wants to change; only he doesn’t know how. The baby that winds up in his care becomes that opportunity for him, one that he truly begins to reform for. Like many of the films on this list, Tsotsi has a great soundtrack. South African native singer Zola adds a number of tracks, while Mark Kilian and Paul Hepker contribute the more melodic tracks featuring Vusi Mahlasela. The final scene in the film is also undeniably the most powerful, and the stirring vocal work elevates the last beat to great filmmaking. If you haven’t seen Tsotsi, please do yourself a favor and do so. Though the realistic portrait of life in Johannesburg can be difficult to take at times, the film transcends the culture gap and earns itself a top spot on any list of notable movies. It is touching, moving, and very pretty – both on the eyes and the ears.

1. GLADIATOR (2000). “And the Oscar goes to…” Gladiator blew my mind when I saw it in theaters as a high-schooler. The action not only looked amazing on the big screen, it deserved the big screen. For 2 and a half hours, I sat, jaw open, eyes wide as Maximus fought his way through gladiator after gladiator to the evil emperor. I was riveted, and it is because I’m still riveted every time I watch Gladiator to this day that it’s my favorite movie of the past decade.

As a pretentious film student going to college in New York City, I felt I had to hide my love for this movie. Sure, it won the Academy Award and was frequently referenced in film texts and magazines, but it was a big-budget action movie. It didn’t have subtitles or black and white art shots or unknown actors or achingly dark portrayals of a modern family at the brink of destruction. Therefore, it was wrong to love. One day, though, I realized that none of that mattered. Every time I channel surfed and found Gladiator, my plans were set. If I was staying in on a Friday or Saturday night with nothing to do, I would pop Gladiator in and be good to go. More than that, I studied Gladiator for its structure and dialogue, since it presented itself as the perfect learning tool for a number of scripts I was working on. When I’m not watching it, I still allow it to influence me audibly – I listen to the soundtrack (more Lisa Gerrard) while writing pretty regularly. Ridley Scott knows how to make a movie, that’s not up for debate. When he got a hold of David Franzoni’s script, he turned out one of the best epics in recent decades and reinvigorated Hollywood’s interest in a period long-forgotten by filmmakers. Gladiator is worth studying, worth watching, and worth loving. I’m so glad that Maximus killed that pretentious film student that was afraid to love this movie and freed the writer who was willing to embrace it. Yes, Sir Ridley Scott, to answer Maximus’ question, I am entertained.

So there you have it, my top 10... er 11.  Just a few fun connections to point out:

                1. Heath Ledger – The Dark Knight and Brokeback Mountain
                2. Lisa Gerrard on Soundtrack – Gladiator and Man on Fire
                3. Directed by a Scott Brother – Gladiator and Man on Fire
                4. Directed by Darren Aronofsky – The Wrestler and Requiem for a Dream
                5. Mickey Rourke – The Wrestler and Man on Fire

And finally, here are a few films not in the top 10 (or even top 20 necessarily) that I just wanted to point out for various reasons or elements: HALF NELSON for a great scene; MEMENTO for a really original way to tell a story; WALL-E and TRIPLETS OF BELLVILLE for great (and very dialogue free) animated films; MONGOL for a wonderful and gorgeous epic; HEAD-ON a German Turkish film that's a great look into another culture; UNBREAKABLE for an amazing twist (what can I say, I'm a comic book fan); and LOVE LIZA for great writing and superb performances by Philip Seymour Hoffman and Kathy Bates. 

Cake Man's List for the Top 10 Movies of the Decade

Inspired by Backer, I've decided to include my picks for the Top Ten Films of the Decade. This isn't my list for what I think are the ten most technically successful films, but rather my favorite ones, the ones I've watched the most or enjoyed my most. It's an odd list; some of the choices even surprised me. Anyway, without further delay, here are choices 10 through 6 (5 though 1 coming on Thursday).

10.  THEY CAME BACK (2004) French, a.k.a. Les Revenants. Even I was a bit surprised when this made it onto my list, but I knew it belonged because I just couldn’t feel comfortable with it being relegated to the runner up section. A little seen film (to my knowledge), it tells the story of a small French town that suddenly has to deal with the unexplained return of all its recent dead. A zombie movie in the least conventional sense, the dead in They Came Back are thinking beings that retain a number of the memories of their past life. They recognize their loved ones and do their best to return to daily life, even going so far as to taking up their old jobs. Nearly a fifth the town’s population is made up of the returned deceased, and while all seems right on the surface, just the slightest bit of observation shows that it’s not.  The dead aren’t nearly as smart or capable of independent living as they were when they were alive, but their defects don’t stop the flood of painful emotions that their loved ones experience upon suddenly having their wives, husbands, parents, and children back from the grave. Before the shock of having deceased family members back has subsided, it becomes obvious that the dead have their own agenda, though what it is is unclear.

Every time I rewatch They Came Back, I’m reminded of how slow portions of it are. Its 103 minute runtime definitely drags in places. However, I can’t stop it from popping into my mind every now and then. Though I think the film could have done more to explore the “what if” scenario of having your loved ones return (semi-amicably) from the dead, I think that They Came Back does a great job at least probing the question, and it gets me thinking enough to earn a spot at number ten.

9. Stranger Than Fiction & Wristcutters: A Love Story (both 2006). Ok, I cheated a bit, but I had too hard a time choosing between these two to bump either rout of the running. Stranger Than Fiction is probably the smartest film I’ve seen Will Ferrell star in. It was also one of the most refreshingly clever films I saw while in school. Will Ferrell plays an IRS agent who suddenly begins hearing a voice (Emma Thompson), which narrates his life and informs him that he’s unaware that he’s going to die soon. It turns out that the voice he hears belongs to a novelist who has invented a character that is Ferrell – from his name and job down to his every move.  With the notice of his impending death looming over his head, Ferrell casts off his rigid, IRS agent lifestyle, and makes time for life, excitement, and love.

It’s hard for me to put my finger on Stranger Than Fiction’s appeal to me, but the voiceover and Ferrell’s response to it, the unfolding love story between an IRS agent and a hippie baker delinquent on her taxes (played by Maggie Gyllenhaal), and the literary references and intelligence from writer Zach Helm all come together beautifully. Will this go down as a classic? No, probably not. It’s more likely to be forgotten. But the strong performances, excellent comedic timing (Dustin Hoffman is hilarious as a literary professor who Ferrell turns to for help and guidance – his advice is to go ahead and die, since Ferrell is living the author’s masterpiece), and the smart, smart writing earn Stranger Than Fiction a (shared) ninth spot.

Wristcutters: A Love Story is another off-beat comedy with somewhat dark subject matter. Patrick Fugit plays Zia, a young man whose disappointments and boredom in life have driven him to suicide. After killing himself (during the opening credits), Zia winds up in a purgatory of sorts populated only by suicide victims in an afterlife that is “like life, only worse.” The suicides wind up in a New Mexico-esque desert that’s unending in every direction. Soon, Zia – who is stuck working a crappy job at Kamikaze Pizza – befriends Eugene, an Eastern European failed rocker who lives with his entire immediate family. When Zia finds out that his girlfriend (a large factor in his suicide) has also offed herself, he and Eugene hit the road to find her.

Wristcutter’s charm is in its off-beat humor and the close, real connections that develop between its characters. At its core, this is a road buddy movie mixed with a romantic comedy. Of course, there’s another girl and that leads to the inevitable realization that what we once had might not be what’s best for us now. While nothing groundbreaking there, perhaps, Wristcutter’s real strength is the new approach it takes in creating worlds and embedding an element of the paranormal and the offbeat. Eugene’s car has a giant void under the passenger’s seat, which transports anything dropped on the floor to a different dimension (a gag that remarkably doesn’t get old). Most characters Zia meets along the way are accompanied by a flashback showing how they got to the suicide world. This is a smart, fun, and certainly rewatchable film. And, perhaps surprisingly, it generates enough discussion and deeper thinking about the “what ifs” associated with it to keep it alive after the final credits role.

8. Sunshine (2007). The sun is dying. This is true. Of course, none of us will be alive to experience the effects that will have on the Earth. In Sunshine, though, the sun’s life is rapidly fading, and with it, goes any hope of survival. Cillian Murphy plays Capa, part of a team of scientists charged with taking a year and a half long flight across the solar system on a mission to reignite the sun. They’re actually the second team to embark on this perilous quest, as the first one mysteriously went off the grid a couple years ago. Stranded in space, millions and millions of miles from earth, they have nowhere to turn if things begin to go wrong.  And, because they’re millions and millions of miles from earth on a mission that determines the fate of all life on the planet, things inevitably begin to go wrong.

I’m not an overwhelmingly huge sci-fi fan, but Sunshine is hands down one of my favorite recent films. The allure of the planets, stars, sun, and solar system that my pre-K teachers instilled in me still hasn’t worn off, so Sunshine instantly gets bonus points for placing me in the middle of it all. (There is actually only one, very short scene that takes place on earth. The rest of the movie is either set on the ship, just outside the ship, or in very close proximity to the ship.  It’s dark. It’s space. It’s a giant void. And it works perfectly.) The movie also begins to shift from pure sci-fi (think 2001 but more active) to a bit more comic-booky at the end. Granted, those two are not often unrelated, but that’s the feeling I get when watching Sunshine. It’s also a great example of post-apocalyptic or other heightened disaster scenario films (one I’ve actually used with my producer and manager). The audience is never told why the sun is about to burn out in 2050; we’re simply told that it is going to happen and we’re on board from there. Sunshine is fun, smart, and engaging. Director Danny Boyle recently made a major splash with Slumdog Millionaire (and he was unquestionably a big presence before that, too), but I wonder if even he has forgotten about this one. Having earned just barely $32 million worldwide (not even 3.7 domestic), Sunshine was by no means a hit. Except, of course, with me that is.

7. The Dark Knight (2008). Since everyone in the world saw this movie three times (in theaters), I think I can bypass the quick synopsis. For me, The Dark Knight has an instant, undeniable bias that propels it toward the top of my favorites list – full disclosure: I am a HUGE Batman fan. By that, I mean that I have over 150 Batman trades (most of which I got for free… I promise). I love Batman like Onyx loves Predator, UFOs, and ninjas combined. So, when Chris Nolan – whose Batman Begins was hard not to include on this list – made one of the darkest, most chaotic Batman anythings last year, I was hooked. The heart of The Dark Knight, of course, is Heath Ledger’s creepy and devilishly, successfully heinous Joker. Every minute mannerism, tick, and blink conveyed an infinitely deep, disturbed persona belonging to someone who had no end to the joy that he derived from generating chaos and fear. The Joker was brilliant as an antagonist, driving the protagonist so close to the breaking point that not only the audience, but the protagonist himself begins to doubt that victory is possible. Heath Ledger’s performance and the Nolan brother’s script instantly places the Joker among the ranks of the best on-screen villains ever, and the sense of overwhelming chaos and futility that the film exudes is almost palpable.

As much as I love The Dark Knight, I should admit that my first reaction to it was split. On the one hand, I had found a new favorite villain and dreamed of the day that a character I write can stand up next to the Joker and attain the same levels of cinematic infamy. On the other hand, there were certain elements that just didn’t work for me. Gordon’s “death” for example never seemed to fit in as anything other than a red herring for the audience. I didn’t and still don’t feel that was earned in the movie. It didn’t seem natural or to work, technically. The more I think about The Dark Knight, though, and the more times I rewatch it, the less those unsuccessful elements matter. In the end, when the fat is boiled away, what’s left is a thrilling, fast, gripping action film that’s smart and has one of the best villains of the past decade, and many might say, of movie history.

6. Brokeback Mountain (2005). When Ang Lee’s multi-Oscar winning Brokeback Mountain first came out, it earned a lot of buzz as one of the first (and certainly more successful) mainstream Hollywood films about an openly gay couple. Lee didn’t shy from his subject matter, and he didn’t expect the audience to, either. With beautiful, heart-breaking performances by Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger, the film embraced its subject matter with fully formed, believable characters. Add to it Gustavo Santaolalla’s score, the supporting performances, desolate setting, and deliberate pacing, the nuances and often subtle gestures throughout the film make for an amazing final product.

Of course, the first reaction to Brokeback was often that it’s the “gay cowboy movie.” I remember being annoyed by the audience I saw it with, an audience that seemed to have no appreciation for the depths of the film, but was rather there to giggle uncomfortably at the sight of two grown men kissing passionately. It doesn’t take much, though, to recognize what Brokeback Mountain really is. Sure, the love story is between two men. But, at its core, that’s what it is. A love story. Universal in the emotions and complications that come with loving another human being, Jack and Ennis experience a love so rife with obstacles that it becomes impossible. The times they live in, the people in their world, their jobs and lifestyles, and even their own stubbornness all conspire to keep these two soul mates apart.  Ledger’s performance as the softspoken Ennis Del Mar is one of the most moving I’ve seen on the screen. He yearns for nothing more than to take a chance on the life that Gyllenhaal’s Jack proposes they share, but he cannot allow himself to do so. At the end, when he holds the late Jack’s bloodied shirt to himself and utters those three simple words, “Jack, I swear,” we know that he’s aware his only chance for happiness is gone forever. One of the most devastating and honest love stories, Brokeback Mountain is sure to live past this decade and survive the test of time.

Top Ten of the Aughts (Part II)

If I learned anything from making my list, it’s that it's hard to write a short blurb about a favorite movie. These films are my favorites precisely because their appeal can’t be reduced to four sentences. And while I can fill page after page with a film’s qualities, whatever I came up still feels insufficient. Like anything else, a favorite movie will grab me for reasons I’ll never truly understand.

Observing the list, I realize that as much as I can appreciate a good performance or the texture of a shot, I am drawn to good stories. There’s no getting away from it: without a good screenplay, you can’t make a good film. And, man, this decade had some bad movies. But as Hollywood continues to churn out remakes, sequels, and derivative garbage, it becomes clear that now more than ever there is a need for good stories well told.

(For Part I, #’s 10-6)

5. Sideways

Miles is a forty-something failed writer who teaches 8th grade English. He does the New York Times crossword on his steering wheel and casually inserts French into everyday conversation. He’s a wine snob who attends a few too many tastings. Recently divorced, he hesitates in making a move on Maya (Virginia Madsen) because, though interesting and attractive, “she works for tips.” Or is that just an excuse for his lack of confidence?

Though the complex Miles is perfectly observed by the writers and Paul Giamatti, his is a character incapable of advancing a plot; that distinction goes to the childish Jack, in a career performance by Thomas Hayden Church. Miles takes his soon-to-be-married buddy on a tour of California’s wine country, but Jack envisions a less sophisticated sendoff: getting both of them laid.

In doing so, Jack boosts Miles’ credentials, telling Maya that his novel is being published; and, obviously, Jack plays down his upcoming wedding while eying Maya’s friend Stephanie (Sandra Oh). Jack succeeds in his goal…and embarks on a fling that becomes more serious than it should. Miles and Maya tag along to complete the quartet, and as their relationship becomes more intimate, the lies become more and more difficult for Miles to live down.

Wow, the broad strokes of this film would hardly make it seem like a comedy, even though it contains some of the funniest moments I have ever seen. Some are in plot payoffs, like when Jack, who suffered a broken nose through his exploits, crashes Miles’ car into a tree to substantiate another lie. Some are in the interactions between Jack and Miles, and how we suspect Miles has maintained this friendship for the sake of validating a sense of superiority. Some are sight gags, as when Miles breaks into a house to reclaim Jack’s wedding ring and is chased down by a naked beast of a man.

Some people call this film depressing. Understandable. Essentially, it’s a film about characters coming to terms with who they are not, leaving them with less to veil their insecurities. But as they are pathetic at the beginning, at least they aren’t hopeless at the end.

4. The Lives of Others

The film begins with a member of the Stasi, Gerd Wiesler (Ulrich Mühe), interrogating a suspected political prisoner. This scene is intercut with him teaching a class on interrogation methods. He uses a recoding of the interrogation, showing how the deprivation of sleep and repetitive questioning can effectively extract information from a prisoner. He stops the tape, adding commentary when necessary. The students write notes, judiciously. He might as well be teaching physiology.

It's rare for a film to have deep political resonance without skewing its argument with didactic heroes and villains. Wiesler is a nationalist with firm socialist ideals, believing in the GDP and the Stasi. As such, he bugs the apartment of playwright Georg Dreyman (Sebastian Koch) to protect the State. But in learning a committee member is having an affair with Dreyman’s actress girlfriend (she does so to avoid interference with her career), Wiesler realizes Dreyman’s imprisonment would rid the committee member of a rival.

A clear abuse of power, Wiesler’s same uncompromising sense of duty leads him to intervene in ending the affair. But as the intervention becomes more personal, he discovers the beauty in the couple’s relationship and realizes that is worth protecting.

This is a complete film with a meticulously plotted screenplay. Writer/director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck provides authentic settings and gives attention to most minute detail, evoking a neorealist feel not unlike The Battle of the Algiers. All of this is strung together by an incredible performance from Ulrick Mühe, whose actions and mere facial expression rarely deviate from that of a calculating professional. So uncommon are his physical reactions that a simple frown commands the audience’s attention. Mühe allows the context of the story to dictate the emotions; consequently, it isn’t until the last frame when he says, “No, it’s for me,” that he is fully understood.

3. Adaptation.

This needs cleared up: just because a film can discuss screenwriting and Hollywood does NOT make it a good screenwriting resource. For an aspiring writer looking for a clear example, Charlie Kaufman’s non-linear screenplay about Charlie Kaufman writing a screenplay about Charlie Kaufman’s difficult adaptation of Susan Orlean’s The Orchid Thief would hardly provide clarity. If used as a teaching tool, it should be used to exemplify the apex of a craft.

Charlie Kaufman (Nicolas Cage) loves Susan Orlean’s book and embraces the idea of writing the world’s first film about flowers. Just flowers. No sex or drugs or car chases or underdogs overcoming huge obstacles. “The book isn’t like that and life isn’t like that. It just isn’t.”

Then what is life about? While unable to adapt the book, Charlie’s life entails complaining about things he should do, fantasizing about women he should hit on, and criticizing people he should not have to endure. Like his twin brother Donald, who one day declares, “I’m gonna be a screenwriter!” and conceptualizes a completely unfeasible thriller that eventually sells for a million dollars. The Orchid Thief, a beautiful composition without a story, is a validation of Charlie’s life…but it also serves as a mirror for his own shortcomings.

The film intercuts between Charlie’s struggles and Susan Orlean (Meryl Streep). A writer for The New Yorker, Orlean ventures to Florida for a story about John Laroche (Chris Cooper), a conservationist known for poaching rare orchids. He’s a fascinating individual whose intelligence escapes Orlean, who can’t get past his toothless grin and Southern twang; when she returns to New York for a cocktail party, all she can talk about is the smell and appearance of his truck. Orlean visits again. As he describes how a moth developed an elongated nose to pollinate a special breed of orchids, she becomes entranced by his passion and fulfillment…but realizes her own superficiality and emptiness.

While engaging and entertaining, Kaufman and Orlean’s stories show how the orchid exists not to accommodate but to make the moth adapt. How a two-hour film can tell such a story with no missteps, with subtle commentary on perception and racism, high-brow and low-brow cultures, New York and Hollywood, with moments that are tender and others that are hilarious, and still include sex and guns and car chases is beyond comprehension. Nicolas Cage effectively differentiates Charlie and Donald, and Spike Jonze magnifies all the humor and irony in the screenplay. But this one goes to Charlie Kaufman.

2. In America

This is a film that grabs you from the start.

An Irish family – Johnny (Paddy Considine), Sarah (Samantha Morton), and their two young daughters (Sarah and Emma Bolger) – drives across the Canadian border, hoping to move into the States illegally. Before hitting the border police, Johnny reminds his daughters, “Remember, we’re on holiday.” As an officer approaches the car, the girls quickly exclaim, “We’re on holiday!” The officer nods as he scans their passports. The youngest daughter, Ariel, a spark plug, adds, “Yeah! And my dad’s not workin’!” Several officers surround the car, asking rapid-fire questions.

Concerned, the oldest daughter, Christy, begins her narration of the film - her little brother Frankie once said she has three wishes; right now she wishes they get across the border. The officer scans their documents, “How many children do you have?” Three, Johnny replies. Two, Sarah corrects him. This confuses the officer. “It says three here.” Johnny replies, “Yeah. We, uh, lost one.” The officer looks at the hopeful faces, hesitates, and then smiles. “Welcome to America.”

The first scene, no longer than three minutes, foreshadows everything about the film. It’s a story with humor, despair, realistic complications, and elements of mysticism, that also manages to see the good in people.

Director Jim Sheridan shares credit for the screenplay with his daughters, Naomi and Kristen, inspired by their own immigration to America following the death of their brother, Frankie. This is understandable, as the film takes its time and moves naturally; it’s almost like a filmed journal of moving to Manhattan, watching it go from abrasive and scary to warm and inviting. What’s impressive is that something so organic can be orchestrated by such meticulous craft.

The family is poor. Johnny has failed his lone Broadway audition and, gallantly as he tried, was unable to air condition their sweltering apartment. Ariel is also sad, missing Ireland and her dad’s old playful spirit. To relieve the stress, the family goes to a carnival. An ET doll catches Ariel’s eye, and Johnny decides he’ll win it for her. The scene is so carefully constructed that what begins with Johnny playfully trying to please his daughter becomes about proving he can take care of the family or losing everything. How many films can effectively pull that off?

Even fewer are the films that mix such grim complications like AIDS and poverty with something as intangible as magic without being sentimental. And then there’s the emotional climax that shows little more than the movement of a hand. The film is filled with great performances and wonderful moments that continuously build without feeling manufactured. And when it’s all said and done, it shows the difficulty in letting go of the past, and the necessity of moving forward.

1. Almost Famous

At some point, everyone feels like an outsider.

William’s mother (Francis McDormand) has the family celebrate Christmas in October when it’s less commercialized. While his middle school peers grow facial hair, William stands a foot shorter. When he asks why, his mother informs him that he’s eleven, not thirteen. His sister Anita (Zooey Deschanel), fed up with the unorthodox lifestyle, leaves home to become a stewardess. She leaves William her record collection and looks into his eyes: “One day, you'll be cool.”

He wants to believe her.

Almost Famous is a story about how William (Patrick Fugit) at fifteen lands a dream job at Rolling Stone, then goes cross-county with the up-and-coming rock band Stillwater as he tries to score an interview with the elusive guitarist Russell (Billy Crudup). It’s a story about first experiences and desperately trying to be cool - cool enough to belong in the rock ‘n’ roll community, to hang out with a band like Stillwater, to spark the interest of Penny Lane (Kate Hudson).

A great coming of age story, it’s about how William comes to realize he’s not cool…but who is? Penny Lane commands a room with her looks and charisma, hops seamlessly from band to band, and does it all without opening up, not even revealing her real name…but even she isn’t above heartbreak. Millions of Americans love Russell, who’s handsome, meets the likes of Bob Dylan, and can even unlock Penny Lane…but not even he can bullshit William’s mother. And then there’s the band as a whole, whose growing popularity has earned them the cover of Rolling Stone magazine…but they deny the facts of William’s story, as even they have insecurities about status and perception. Lester Bangs – played by Phillip Seymour Hoffman, as the poor man’s Obi-Wan Kenobi – observes it perfectly: “The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with somebody when you’re uncool.” And Lester is admittedly not cool.

Like any great movie, you remember the film for its moments. Like when Stillwater brings William backstage or when he deepens his voice on the phone for his editor. Or when Stillwater’s plane is about to crash, and the drummer breaks his silence - “Fuck it! I’m gay!” - only for the plane to steady. Russell on the roof of a high school party: “I am a golden god!” The reconciliation of Anita and her mother – “I forgive you.” “I…never said I was sorry”. And, of course, when the inner conflicts plaguing the group are resolved as they sing along to Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer”.

Loosely based on Cameron Crowe’s own experiences, it’s a film that’s written without feeling written, where every character has a distinct point of view and the actors disappear in their roles. It’s a film of bright colors, a portrait of an America united to a soundtrack of Bowie and Zeppelin and Cat Stevens. It’s a film with a heart, embracing people for who they are.

William ends up getting his interview, but he asks his big question not as a reporter but as a star struck fan: “What do you love most about being a rock star?” And Russell leans forward, glowing like a child, “To begin with…everything.”

Same for this movie.

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Best of the rest… The 40-Year-Old Virgin, Bowling for Columbine, City of God, Closer, The Dark Knight, Eastern Promises, Flags of Our Fathers, The Fog of War, Grizzly Man, Harold and Kumar go to White Castle, High Fidelity, A History of Violence, In Bruges, Intermission, Kill Bill: vol 1, Let the Right One In, Minority Report, No Country for Old Men, Pan’s Labyrinth, Rachel Getting Married, Requiem for a Dream, Shallow Hal, Shrek, Sin City, Slumdog Millionaire, The Squid and the Whale, Traffic, Wall-E, You Can Count on Me

Top 10 Films of the Aughts (Part I)

The period between 1990 and 1999 was great for movies. Pulp Fiction, Shawshank, Hoop Dreams – that's 1994 alone. There are times when I think the quality of films (especially domestic films) has degenerated as I’ve grown more familiar with writing and filmmaking. But then I thought about it, and, man, some really great movies came out this decade.

So here are #'s 10 - 6... (#'s 5 - 1 coming soon...)

10. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Charlie Kaufman won a much-deserved Oscar for the most original concept in recent memory. Break-ups hurt because of loss – the loss of a comfort zone, the loss of someone else, the loss of someone else’s feelings. To prevent this feeling of loss, what if a medical procedure could erase that person from your memory?

The premise is ingenious, but the film stands out for depicting a universal relationship between Joel and Clementine (Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet), told from beginning to end. The break up scene is most relatable, as Joel and Clemantine each say hurtful things that can't be unsaid. Whereas most movies capture romance with sparkling jewelry and huge set pieces, the most romantic scenes involve throwing leaves at each other, falling on the ice, or lying on the couch. And of course, the film does a commendable job in showing that pleasure from the good times ultimately outweigh the eventual pain.

Joel wants to procedure to stop, but is powerless as his body is knocked out. In Joel’s final memory, he and Clementine sit on the beach, completely aware that the incident is going to be erased: “This is it, Joel. It’s going to be gone soon.” “I know.” “What do we do?” “Enjoy it.”

9. Inglourious Basterds

Quentin Tarantino might be gimmicky. He might be completely full of himself. He might be a narcissist, a sexist, a thief.

He can be all of those things, but he can still be an expert craftsman.

A farmer stands on his front yard filling buckets of water. In a car in the distance, two guards approach with a Nazi colonel (Christoph Waltz). The farmer looks to his house, to his three teenage daughters. He pours some water over his face.

In the house, the colonel takes off his hat and smiles. “Do you know who I am?” The farmer nods. The colonel motions for his guards – equipped with machine guns – to step outside, but they remain visible through the window. The colonel acknowledges the daughters and their beauty. He asks if they would mind stepping outside. They look to their father, who nods, nervously. They step outside.

In the hands of a lesser writer/director, the subsequent scene between the colonel and farmer would be rushed and expositional; with Tarantino, the talky scene plays secondary to the tension of the guards in the window and the mere fact that we don’t know anything.

To arouse the curiosity of an audience without making it question the logic - that is tough. And, man, he makes it look easy...

8. Brokeback Mountain

It took a while for this film to set in. I think that’s a testament to Heath Ledger, the screenwriters, and Ang Lee, who collectively take a subtle story/protagonist and make it fly.

The premise by nature leads to a reactive story, one that studies a cowboy Ennis (Ledger) who lacks the ability to love. Whether it’s his wife, daughters, or Jack (Jake Gyllenhaal), the one person with whom he connects, he never allows more than five consecutive words to escape his tight-lipped demeanor. When someone notices a hint of transparency, he responds aggressively, like when he attacks Jack and ends up with a bloodied lip. He pushes himself into seclusion.

Jack is killed, and though the cause of death is ambiguous, the film sets up that he was possibly murdered for being homosexual. Through Jack’s ex-wife (Anne Hathaway), Ennis learns that Jack wanted him to scatter his ashes. When going to Jack’s parents for the ashes, he finds intertwined with one of Jack’s shirts is his blood-stained shirt from their fight years earlier. He holds them up to his face.

It’s subtle and fantastic.

7. Match Point

Though elements are borrowed from his Crimes and Misdemeanors and Hannah and Her Sisters, this is the most unique of Woody Allen’s canon. For starters, there is no Woody Allen, meaning neither himself as an actor nor a neurotic character in the cast. Secondly, this was the first of his films to take place outside of New York.

For a writer, the film is an education on economy and precision. Allen equips the hero of the story, an Irishman from a poor family Chris Wilton (Jonathon Rhys Meyers), with two gifts: skill with a tennis racket and good looks. Though he never climbed the ranks in professional tennis, his skill enables him to become an instructor at a country club. There, he befriends club member Tom Hewitt (Matthew Goode) and is able to use his other gift to catch the eye of his sister Chloe (Emily Mortimer). He charms his way into her heart and into the good graces of her wealthy parents, virtually guaranteeing him a fruitful life. But there is one problem: Tom is engaged to an American, Nola Rice (Scarlett Johannson), a failed actress pulling the same stunt as Chris.

Though the outsiders are experts in their roles, their obvious similarities and sexual attraction complicates their didactic plots. An affair is unfeasible, but proves unavoidable. And that’s the first act of a film that manages to explore themes of luck, hard work, and love without seeming implausible and still deliver a twist ending that hits just the right note.

6. Love Actually

How can you think of this film without smiling? Whether it’s the cheery score, that “Christmas is all around me!”, or that even a Hugh Grant or Colin Firth can act like a complete spazz when face-to-face with that flashy-eyed girl, this is one of those movies that will always put you in a good mood.

But how is it that Love Actually avoids being cheesy? It’s because the brilliant writer/director Richard Curtis explores the flip side of the coin. A workaholic (Laura Linney) finally has the chance to romance her crush, but a call from her hospitalized brother prevents it from happening. Daniel (Liam Neeson) is in constant grief after losing his wife to cancer. And, of course, the most heartfelt scene in which Karen (Emma Thompson) realizes her marriage is over after opening a Christmas gift.

The lows also accentuate some wonderful “movie moments”. There’s the porn star “rehearsing” with his female costar while having trouble asking her on a date. There’s Jamie (Colin Firth) and his Portuguese servant in the water saying the same things in different languages. There’s the controversial Billy Mack (Bill Nighy) on television: “Kids: don’t buy drugs. [a sigh of relief from the hosts] Become a pop star and they give ‘em to you for free!” And, my personal favorite, Mark spilling his heart out to Juliet (Keira Knightley) via poster cards though he has nothing to gain.

How did this film not get a screenplay nod?

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(Hm. Noticing a theme, my revised #1 of the decade is now Terminator Salvation.)