The Ten Best Films Of 2005

1.   Café Lumière (Hsiao-hsien Hou, Japan/Taiwan)
2.   Caché (Michael Haneke, France/Austria/Germany/Italy)
3.   The New World (Terrence Malick, United States)
4.   The Intruder (Claire Denis, France)
5.   Tony Takitani (Jun Ichikawa, Japan)
6.   Tropical Malady (Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Thailand, France, Germany, Italy)
7.   Nobody Knows (Hirokazu Koreeda, Japan)
8.   A History Of Violence (David Cronenberg, Germany/United States)
9.   Last Days (Gus Van Sant, United States)
10. Broken Flowers (Jim Jarmusch, United States, France)

*list based on U.S. theatrical release date

First Trailer For "Margot At The Wedding"

My introduction to Noah Baumbach's directorial work came at the 2005 New York Film Festival, where his film The Squid and the Whale became not only one of my favorite films at the festival, but also one of my favorite films of that year. I have been anticipating his follow up ever since, and today Moviefone has posted the exclusive first look at his next film, Margot at the Wedding. The cast is quite interesting, with Nicole Kidman, Jennifer Jason Leigh, an unusually restrained Jack Black, and John Turturro. And the involvement of cinematographer and Gus Van Sant favorite Harris Savides (Gerry) guarantees a beautiful looking film. It seems that Baumbach has fashioned another intelligent, low-key look at familial dysfunction. The film is set for a limited release on October 12.

Margot at the Wedding Trailer @ Moviefone

Real Life (Brooks, 1979)

Brooks's debut feature solidifies my burgeoning belief that his directorial work represents some of the most intelligent, most sophisticated, and of course funniest, American comedy in existence. In Real Life, he plays a filmmaker named Albert Brooks, who sets out to film a "real" family over the course of an entire year. His belief is that the human drama of everyday life will make for a more truthful and exciting film than anything Hollywood could produce.

The result of (both) Brooks's efforts is a prescient and delightfully reflexive examination of the hypocrisies intrinsic to filming so-called "reality," and serves as evidence that Brooks's trademark wit was fully formed from the outset. Inspired by "An American Family," the 1973 PBS show considered the first reality TV show, Real Life is to a certain extent parody, though it is parody of a more insightful, ambitious form. If for nothing else, see this film for the "Ettnauer 226XL," quite simply one of the most ingenious comedic devices of all time.

Brief Impressions: Stormy Monday (Figgis, 1988)

Figgis's jazzy riff on the crime film is wonderful to behold. Roger Deakins captures the rain-soaked, neon tinged Newcastle milieu beautifully, with his work here reminiscent of the French Cinéma du look movement of the 80's (Diva, Subway). Yet, Figgis's minimalist neo-noir lacks narrative substance and ends up relying too heavily on mood to sustain itself. The most fascinating element of the film, the ambitious and commendable effort made by Figgis to convey much of the narrative in purely visual terms, is also responsible for the film's disjointedness and for the distinct aftertaste of superficiality. IMDb listing.

Oshii's "The Sky Crawlers" In 2008

Mamoru Oshii, director of the landmark anime film Ghost In The Shell, has a new anime in the works. Set for release in Japan in 2008, the feature, titled The Sky Crawlers, is based on best-selling Japanese author Hiroshi Mori's five-part novel of the same name, which Oshii called "a work that should be made into a movie for young people now."

According to a press release from animation studio Production I.G., "the story unfolds in another 'possible' modern age. The main characters are youngsters called 'Kildren', who are destined to live eternally in their adolescence. The Kildren are conscious that every day could be the last, because they fight a "war as entertainment" organized and operated by adults."

Along with Ghost In The Shell, Oshii is also responsible for three widely acknowledged anime masterworks: Ghost In The Shell 2: Innocence, Patlabor: The Movie, and Patlabor: The Movie 2, and though this distillation of his body of work, with its pattern of original/sequel repetition, might ostensibly indicate a filmmaker lacking imagination and inspiration, this is simply not the case. Amidst the beautifully fluid animation typical of Oshii's anime lies a provocative philosophical depth, and a desire to challenge the expressive and intellectual potential of the anime form. For those unfamiliar with Oshii (or anime in general) I strongly recommend the four aforementioned films, which are widely available on DVD.

Official Website (in Japanese)
Press Release @ Production I.G.

The Trailer Compendium: Vol. 8

Upon first glance, Nicolas Roeg's Bad Timing and Richard Lester's Petulia might seem to be strange bedfellows. Roeg's film is a perverse exploration of sexuality and obsession. Lester's film (for which Roeg served as cinematographer) is study of crumbling lives wrapped in a brilliant observation of 1960's America. What makes these films quite suitable companion pieces however, isn't their respective narrative contents, but rather their beautifully nonlinear narrative forms (due in large part I'm sure, to Roeg's involvement). Enjoy!

Bad Timing (1980):


Petulia (1968):

Death And The Maiden (Polanski, 1994)

Death and the Maiden functions ostensibly as a pure thriller, an exercise in sustained tension, masterfully orchestrated and compulsively watchable. The performances from Weaver, Kingsley and Wilson are altogether superb and evenly matched, and Polanski’s direction is inspired. Polanski exploits the claustrophobic nature of the source material to the utmost, staging the action in such a way as to communicate character psychology through spatial orientation within the frame.


Yet, for all its formal concision, and though the setup (three characters, one house, a single night) implies a certain inherent simplicity, the film is simultaneously a fluent, coherent discussion of subjects ranging from political repression and the limitations of justice to sexual empowerment. The brilliance of the film lies in Polanski’s ability to sustain a complex and ubiquitous thematic density that subsists beneath the narrative, without ever sacrificing the film's more basal power to enthrall.


To that effect, ultimately what fascinates most about this (quite literally) dark, exceedingly taut chamber drama, a minor masterpiece, is its psychological component. Its desire to unmask and observe an evil (embodied with nuance and disturbing ambivalence by Kingsley) that horrifies not because it is absolute, but because it is human, and perversely comprehensible.