THE GOOD

“What do you do?” Irene (the beautiful, inimitable Carey Mulligan) asks the character known only as the Driver (Ryan Gosling). He responds: “I drive.” And drive he does. The film is relentless, itself driving the action and the characters forward, gaining an unstoppable momentum until it reaches its climactic, ineluctable end. A combination of Robin Hood, Batman, and Grand Theft Auto, the Driver is a man – played expertly (dare I say perfectly?) by Gosling – whose quiet intensity about everything he encounters is unsettling, his confidence alone unnerving. The relationship between the Driver and Irene develops organically, at first without any dialogue (as is much of the film), blossoming into a potent sexuality in which the most physical acts are hand-holding and a single kiss. The writing, direction, acting, cinematography, scoring, costume design, and 80′s-inspired art direction work seamlessly, flawlessly creating a grim world of darkness, death, and, of course, driving.

THE BAD

Because this film is nearly an embodiment of perfection, I will gladly use this section to say exactly that. But, if one must find flaws, there is a moment of dialogue between Bryan Cranston and Albert Brooks’s characters that seems a touch lazy. Cranston’s character attempts to convince Brooks that he should invest in his racecar, devolving somewhat into a rather uncreative stock exchange better suited for a Lifetime made-for-TV movie than one of the best films of the year. That being said, the dialogue still remains true to the particular character in question. Other than that, it is quite difficult after one viewing to spot much that is less than sparse, intentional, brilliant film-making.

THE CONCLUSION

Exciting, riveting, engaging (and a host of other similar words), the multifarious levels of artistic actualization and heart-pounding entertainment that this film achieves under the masterful direction of Nicolas Winding Refn (who is slated to release a new film with Gosling next year, which is cause enough for celebration) are worth pages of consideration and countless hours of appreciation and enjoyment. But, suffice it to say that it is worth seeing if you see nothing else. Fin.

Rating: 4/4 Stars

THE GOOD

Of Gods and Men is the very definition of sparse: limited dialogue, long shots without cutting, silence, and a sense of stillness make up this French film. Based on a the lives of a group of monks living in Algeria, the movie tells the story of their incredibly difficult decision of whether to stay or leave when confronted with extremist violence. Throughout their daily routines, the monks clean, sing, and care for the sick in their village. Through these rather quotidian happenings, director Xavier Beauvois fashions an intensely focused film, incorporating what might be otherwise construed as horror movie conventions. The acute depth of feeling generated by the actors is utterly compelling and would be worth seeing even if the film itself was not well made. As it is, Of Gods and Men is an engrossing story about faith, doubt, courage, and the power of brotherly love.

THE BAD

Without sounding too terribly hyperbolic, it must be noted that this film is practically without fault. Personally, I don’t remember seeing a film that I felt this strongly about since Germany’s White Ribbon. Subjectively, some moviegoers may not care for the lack of action, the meticulous directorial control, or even the subtitles, but the movie is without question one of the best of the year and may easily win Best Foreign Picture. It’s just that good. Plain and simple.

THE CONCLUSION

No surprises here: you simply must see this movie. The absolute command that Beauvois wields is enough to bring you to tears. In all likelihood, it won’t. But the lives of these monks as portrayed and embodied in the lives of the actors just might. And that is something that you just shouldn’t miss.

Rating: 4/4 Stars

UP

Made by the incredible team at Disney, this movie flawlessly executes a reanimation of the Winnie the Pooh story. From the watercolor backdrops, to the seamless integration of the written word  on the screen (you’ll know what I mean when you see it), to the characters themselves, each scene is picture perfect. The voice actors imitate the traditional voices of the Pooh characters very well, making the transition to this new film an easy one for the audience, especially anyone in the slightly older crowd, who may have grown up with Pooh. Throw in a number of charming song numbers, both from the characters and the always lovable Zooey Deschanel, and the whole movie feels like a trip back to one’s youth.

DOWN

Though adorable and captivating in its own way, this one is certainly geared toward a younger audience. The run-time is just under an hour for the actual story, running a little over an hour with the credits (which are worth watching in their own right), making it ideal for young children and their parents. Additionally, the plot is fairly harmless, in that none of the characters is ever in considerable harm or danger. It is well-written, and it certainly draws heavily on the books, but it is, in the end, definitely a movie for kids.

GO, WAIT, OR SKIP

As many have said before, good children’s stories are really written for the children in everyone, and this one is in many ways no different. Is it worth a trip to the theater? Maybe. That  might depend on whether you’re a stay-at-home mother of three. If you aren’t, Redbox and Netflix will have this one soon enough.

Rating: 4/4 Stars

A solid children’s film isn’t really a children’s film at all. We all know that. But it takes a group of people working together toward that aim like Pixar to make this deceptively complex truth a reality. Time and time and time again, they succeed. And Toy Story 3 is yet another in a long line of “children’s films” that are anything but. They are films directed at the child in each of us, and films to which we can all relate, regardless of childhood or background. And, yet again, it’s hard to find one better than this one.

The saga of Woody, Buzz, Slinky, Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head, and the whole gang goes back more than a dozen years (it all began in ’95). Since then, they (and their imaginative and fearless leader, Andy, who is about to head to college) have given us a riot of laughs and tears and everything in between. Here, our hapless group of toys finds themselves stuck in a daycare center, among other foreign lands, constantly within inches of mutilation or simply being covered in fluorescent green paint.

They come to find that the children that play with them on an hourly basis are the least of their worries, as Lotso the Bear, Ken (of Barbie fame), and a host of other malevolent toys have it out for their imminent demise. Working together, they must find a way out of the daycare and back to Andy, back to the life they once knew, however fragile it might be.

The voice acting is as good as we remember. Tom Hanks and Tim Allen lead the troupe, of course, playing Woody and Buzz Lightyear respectively, and Ned Beatty joins them as the maleficent teddy bear. The animation design team is equally wonderful, bringing to life the loveable band of plastic misfits. And who better to direct it than Lee Unkrich, who directed the second film in this series (the other obvious choice is John Lasseter, who directed the original film)? The whole team works so well together, so seamlessly, that the end result is nothing other than what it must be: an incredible film on all levels.

Near the roll of the credits (and the floodgates), as this epic coming-of-age tale comes to a close, we reflect on our childhood, on the life we are living, the friends we have made (both physical and imaginary), and, if we have them, children of our own, who are learning to understand the world around them, weaving their very own sigils in the air, and giving to their stories a local habitation and a name, as the creators of this film have done beautifully over and over again.

Toy Story 3 is a must see. It is this year’s Up, captivating people of all ages, touching us, coaxing us into a vulnerability in ways that much passing as film these days doesn’t even dream of. We were all children once, and inside each of us a child continues to live, continues to play and to create immense worlds of adventure out of wooden blocks and tuberous dolls, out of cotton cowboys and space invaders, out of magic and the stuff of the imagination. If you see an animated film this year, please make it this one. You’ll thank yourself (and so will your kids).

Rating: 4/4 Stars

Sigmund Freud, that veritable master of the mind and erstwhile liaison betwixt the dream world and our own (is there really such a hard distinction between the two?), said, “Dreams are often most profound when they seem the most crazy.” In a world where dreams are entered into volitionally, like remarkable virtual reality chambers, anything is possible, including theft, and its opposite, what the film calls Inception, a beginning and an end in which both are simultaneously evident and obscured.

Cobb (Leo) is a master of this soi-disant “inception”, a criminal of sorts, on the run from authorities and, in more ways than one, from himself, from his past, from the memories that haunt his waking and dreaming life, an admixture he can’t seem to separate clearly, as if his internal centrifuge has gone horribly wrong.

Along with his cast of oneiric bandits, played by a cast of top-notch actors, some familiar faces (Caine, Murphy, and Watanabe) and others new to the Nolan regime (Gordon-Levitt, Page, and Cotillard), Cobb seeks to infiltrate people’s minds through their dreams, colluding in and amongst their projected lives.

As we have to come expect, Leo is fantastic. His ability to draw on the melodramatic styles of his directors, to inhabit the characters he plays, and to simply speak the truth of the scene, is captivating, if not intoxicating. Christopher Nolan, the director, has surrounded Leo with a cast that both highlights the film and punctuates its very calculated movements with panache and a sense of jeu d’esprit, which is only one side to Nolan’s coin, with a backside as insidious as it is immaculately acerbic.

Dreams have a life of their own, the film seems to tell us, while reminding us that we are the authors of those selfsame dreamings: the creator and the created, enfolding on itself in an open and mysterious loop. That is the meaning of inception, after all – both a beginning and an end, at times one and the same, of a thought or feeling or desire whose provenance is lost in the labyrinthine hedges of our minds.

The film instills a sense of wonder at the world of dreams, of our dreams and the dreams of others, of another world in and of itself, a created cosmos, in which the rules may have changed, and in which the playful musings of the spirit are made manifest alongside the penumbral magic of the other side of our lunar souls. In a word: Art. All art is essentially volitional dreaming of sorts, entering into another place and time, created either by ourselves or by others, sometimes simultaneously.

Art, like dreaming, may seem, at times, to lack meaning, to be obfuscated by a misleading artist or, simply, by postmodernism, an absconding racket. Inception is neither. Inception is a work of art, discernible and impenetrable, a dream incarnate on the silver screen, and, though not quite perfect, still the best picture of the year thus far.

A quote comes to mind, something said by Luis Buñuel, another filmmaker, both enlightening and amusing, its truth apropos to Inception, and, indeed, to all art, and to all artists: “If someone were to tell me I had twenty years left, and ask me how I’d like to spend them, I’d reply ‘Give me two hours a day of activity, and I’ll take the other twenty-two in dreams.’” I think Nolan understands this as well as anyone. And I most certainly agree.

Rating: 4/4 Stars

The Coen Brothers are a truly dynamic duo. Wielding wit, charisma, and an invigorating spirit, they deftly create films in which the story often unfolds both dramatically and comically, revealing the dual nature of existence. A Serious Man tells the tragically comic story of Larry Gopnik, a professor whose life, at times both enviable and its opposite, quickly takes several turns for the worse. Joel and Ethan Coen take Larry’s life and unveil the horror lying just beneath the surface.

Larry Gopnik is Jewish, married (kind of), with a handful of rebellious teenaged kids, and he teaches physics at a nearby college. Even his subject of expertise is fraught with varying levels of uncertainty. Larry soon feels as if he has no idea what to do with his life, as his wife leaves him, his son who is supposed to be preparing for Bar Mitzvah makes purchases behind his back, and his Jewish faith is a shambles. Seeking the guidance of Jewish rabbis of increasing levels of rank, he attempts to reconcile the chaos of crisis with the constancy of his religious beliefs. The answers he receives are intentionally vague, seemingly leaving something unsaid, and to him, certainly not very helpful. He even resorts to asking his lawyer for help in what turns into a kind of therapy session – to no avail. The unknown surrounds Larry. In the end, he is forced to come face to face to with simply not having all the answers. Much easier said than done, of course.

Shot as a horror film, the Coens manage to delve deeper and deeper into the psychological horror of Larry’s all-too-normal life. Because he’s Jewish and his life seems rough, it may at times it seem like a page out of the Biblical story of Job, but A Serious Man isn’t about coming full circle. It isn’t about getting everything back that he once lost. Larry loses his grip on reality. His problems are quite normal in many respects, and, ultimately, nothing too special. His wife wants a divorce; his teenagers are healthy and stubborn; his job is secure. He hasn’t lost many things, but he has lost a sense of purpose. He’s lost the stability of stasis. He feels like he’s losing his mind. Larry may get his grip back, but Job lost every familial and material possession he had. Larry has lost a guiding sense of meaning, which more or less ebbs and flows throughout life. We feel secure, then lost, then confused, then stable. Sometimes we don’t know what we feel.

So, in some ways, this film resembles Job’s, but this isn’t a Biblical allegory. To think so would be to miss the point of the film entirely. Each person’s life is a horror story lingering below the veil of reality, and when it rises to the surface we feel the panic of uncertainty, what Camus called coming face to face with the absurdity of existence. When this happens, all feels lost, all seems to be in ruins, though that may not actually be the case. It might. But it might not.

The Coens are brilliant filmmakers. With wonderful casting and a number of fantastic performances from Michael Stuhlbarg (as Larry) and Richard Kind (as his brother), they create a horrifying cinematic experience, in which things aren’t as they seem, and certainty is just out of arm’s reach. At turns both dismal and absurd, this film takes its spot near the top of the Coen Canon, and certainly one of the best films of the year – if not the decade.

Rating: 4/4 Stars

A blend of politics, the Mafia, and concentrated, modern, aristocratic Italian culture, Il Divo is a biopic on Giulio Andreotti, seven time Prime Minister of Italy, whose life is shrouded in secrecy and ambiguity, with plenty of wit to boot. Paolo Sorrentino writes and directs this calculated and highly entertaining film, a product of keen foresight and a scrutinizing awareness of each and every detail.

The story, based on Andreotti’s life, is a fascinating account of one powerful man’s unwavering commitment to secrecy, an obsessive-compulsive lifestyle in which everything is the product of extraordinary premeditation and an uncannily phlegmatic demeanor. A series of imprecise events contribute to the dissolution of Andreotti’s core group of followers, until all is apparently lost. The Italian government accuses Andreotti of Mafia involement, something against which he must adamantly defend himself, and, in the end, his eternal self-reliance will either be his savior or his hamartia.

Toni Servillo plays Andreotti serenely, brilliantly portraying a man whose outward character seems like the unsettling fusion of Kim Jong-Il and Mr. Magoo. Servillo’s surreal stillness is captivating. He says nothing, yet we hang on his every movement, his breathing, his pupils, his meticulous hands. And he is surrounded by capable actors and actresses, a cast of political players whose goal is nothing more than the deification, or downfall, of Andreotti.

The cinematography alone is reason enough to see this film. Sorrentino crafts each scene, however long, with conscientiousness and committed intentionality, not to mention a mordant wit, as dry as it is wry. He presents characters (and subtitles) from unforeseen angles, hidden behind objects, or not at all, all working to further the intangible quality of this film and its characters, whose larger-than-life personalities seemingly jump off the screen.

Andreotti, Il Divo himself, was truly a character, and this film certainly seems to do him justice, portraying a volatile and furtive political landscape, where conspiracy lurks around most corners, leaving the others simply too dark to see much of anything at all. Sorrentino and Servillo work well together, adding this to their repertoire of collaborative efforts, including Gomorra and the upcoming This Must Be the Place. Like all great director-actor collaborations, this film leaves one wanting more. If nothing else, at least a second viewing.

Rating: 4/4 Stars

Few know how to do psychological thrill rides like Scorsese. Evoking (if not channelling) 1991′s Cape Fear, Shutter Island manages to pull off another thriller of extensive scope. Both films allow the score and the camera to set the tone almost entirely in many scenes, in others stripping the score away and returning to conventional camera work. The mixture of the two is put to work by the genius of Scorsese. Add to that masterful performances by living legends, and you have a classic thriller in the flesh.

In 1954, two U.S. Marshals, Teddy Daniels (Leo) and Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo) come to Shutter Island to investigate the escape of a female patient/prisoner at a mental institution. They both look for clues, while Teddy wrestles his personal demons, a distressed history with his wife and memories of serving in World War II. As Teddy’s Now and his Then collide and mingle, the two are harder to distinguish, until Teddy is wrapped up in the mystery of the disappearing murderess in a way he hadn’t imagined.

DiCaprio is Scorsese’s current muse, in the way De Niro was in the 70′s. (It seems only fitting that their names should have such a similar structure.) Scorsese’s vision and Leo’s performance are so in sync, so well harmonized, that it seems as if one’s prescience is the other’s inspiration. They seem to lean on one another synergistically, and the result is another brilliant production, a film which both tells us an engrossing story and coaxes us into its turbulent maelstrom. Cape Fear and Shutter Island, lessons in thrill-making and emotional devastation, inform both the artist and the psychologist. (Only a very thin line seems to separate the two at times.)

Mark Ruffalo plays an earnest Chuck, and Ben Kingsley plays one of the head doctors on the island, each turning in fitting performances, depicting two men in one, willfully split personalities – personal fictions, a steady theme throughout the film. And, though minor, Jackie Earle Haley is fantastic as patient George Noyce. The acting, like the writing, is intentional, inventive, an extension of Scorsese’s imagination, a fusion of past and present.

We create for ourselves a reality that we can deal with – some are able to deal with more than others, some less, some only a strictly confined fantasy resembling reality only in its form, its construction. We build walls and fortify our mental village against intruders, sometimes at any cost. Scorsese knows this well, and this film is the evidence. A gripping story, pitch perfect acting, and the hands of a master. Shutter Island is the best film of the year so far.

Rating: 4/4 Stars

Imagine the Godfather trilogy set almost entirely in a prison in France. You now have a pretty good idea of what to expect from Un prophète, both in substance and tonality. This visceral epic depicts the harsh realities of both prison life and the painful truth of being involved in the mafia, whether within or beyond the prison walls. With no holds barred, Un prophète takes the viewer on the journey of one man’s gripping confrontation with life behind bars and the burdens he must bear simply in order to stay alive.

Jacques Audiard (The Beat That My Heart Skipped) directs this ambitious film about an Arab named Malik El Djebena, who is thrown into prison for six years for something he claims he didn’t do. Six years in this prison is an eternity, one that many may not live to see. Djebena catches the eye of who might as well be the Don Vito Corleone of the prison, the inmate who essentially controls the entire institution, guards and all, whose past remains clouded and whose appearance resembles Brando himself in a way. Through one task after another, the prison eventually grants Djebena days of freedom, twelve hours outside the walls of the prison, during which he begins to make ties of his own, ties which will grant him possibilities he never dreamed of, lending credibility, in one scene, to what seem to be prophetic abilities.

Audiard crafts a brilliant, jarring film, and what might as well be a course in storytelling. Much conventional work is incorporated, but some aspects defy convention, including, at times, some engrossing cinematography. Audiard also collaborated on the script (replete with that beguiling quality so characteristic of the French tongue), and it shows, as the level of control seems evident throughout the film. Should a sequel be in order, one can only hope it resembles the intensity and mastery of this one.

Newcomer Tahar Rahim is Djebena in a riveting performance, and his counterpart, Niels Arestrup, plays the Don, César Luciani, with compelling honesty, in what may be his magnum opus. The casting is spot on all around, and the performances all up to the task. In fact, there are no weak links in the acting chain here, as all the roles are played extremely well.

Raw, unflinching, and powerful, this film is an absorbing encounter, a veritable Godfather for a new generation (a fact of which it is not unaware – at one point, Djebena is told he is the godfather of someone’s newborn son), and an instant classic. One of the best films of the year, it is a triumph, a must see for anyone capable of withstanding the film’s nearly three hours of unadulterated brutality.  A film worthy of recognition, Un prophète deserves to be seen again and again and again.

Rating: 4/4 Stars

You can probably think of several movies that would qualify as a recent quality action flick. Or a recent quality dramedy. But when was the last time you saw a recent quality farce? Yes, a farce. That rare comedy which lampoons with far-flung characterizations and far-fetched situations, many times very political in nature. In the Loop is that film for the time being: the most recent, quality, political farce film in some time. With acerbic politicians and preposterous liaisons, In the Loop manages to reveal the asinine nature of much that is deemed political.

When the British Secretary of State for International Development, Simon Foster, has a slip of the tongue in an interview (an all too often occurrence for him), he sets in motion a series of events on both sides of the pond leading up to a declaration of war in the Middle East. His gaffe quickly escalates into an international phenomenon, and his political life, as well as that of several well meaning interns, starts to spiral out of control. When Malcolm Tucker, a communications chief, gets involved, he tears everyone to pieces with his foul mouth and quick temper. America and the UK battle in England, DC, and the UN building in New York, always resulting in ire and hilarity.

Some of the characters will be familiar to those who have seen The Thick of It, but their relationships are fleshed out so well it doesn’t seem necessary to have seen it. The acting, like the comedic timing, is spot-on. A farce is difficult to pull off, but this one approaches perfection. Tom Hollander (Pirates of the Caribbean), Peter Capaldi, James Gandolfini, Gina McKee, and the rest of this pitch perfect ensemble, have unrivaled comedic chemistry. Relative newcomer Chris Addison and Anna Chlumsky play the interns, two otherwise intelligent people aspiring to political success in one form or another, a highly unintelligent aspiration in this farcical world.

The director of The Thick of It, Armando Iannucci, also directs this one, no doubt lending to the impeccable timing and farcical atmosphere. The film itself tells the ludicrous story leading up to the current war in the Middle East, a veritable farce even without all the Scottish cursing. The world watched as two political giants garnered nonexistent evidence in order, essentially, to declare war on a entire region of the world. The sad truth of the matter, of course, is that, as farcical and funny as it is in many ways, America and England hurled themselves, and the world, into a decade of unnecessary death.

Watching the politicians conjure smoking guns out of thin air and manufacture lie after lie in order to achieve whatever end they see fit, elicits both laughter and terror, as we realize that the buffoonery that took place at such a high level of political import is the progenitor of so much global ruination. Iannucci and his team of extraordinarily funny actors and writers produces, without a doubt, one of the best farces of recent years, if not the best. Ultimately, regardless of your political or national affiliation, this one is a definite must-see.

Rating: 4/4 Stars