Year in Review: 2008
2008 was a much better year in film than 2007, in my opinion. There were more films I was truly excited about, and this list was a lot easier to put together than 2007’s. (As a side note, over at the blog there’s a little bit about my favorite performances of the year, for those who are interested.) With that, here are my favorite 10 11 films of 2008.
I wanted to start this list with a tie, because this tie illustrates the awkward position in which I sometimes find myself. How do I handle good films that I don’t enjoy and, conversely, how do I deal with a film that’s objectively terrible but extremely enjoyable? Cases in point: The Dark Knight is certainly a better film than Eagle Eye. No question. But both films, I believe, were created to give their audiences adrenaline rushes, to entertain, to provide great action. And quite honestly, I had a lot more fun with Eagle Eye than I did with The Dark Knight. I walked out of Eagle Eye excited about the movie I’d just watched because I was so amused and entertained. Does Eagle Eye make any sense whatsoever? Absolutely not. Does The Dark Knight feature stronger performances, better production values and overall more artistic merit? Absolutely. Am I more excited to see Eagle Eye again than I am The Dark Knight? Yes. Do I very much like both pics? Yes, but for different reasons.
Ron Howard’s latest, Frost/Nixon, is the kind of film that when asked about it afterwards, all you can really say about it was that it was good. Now, I understand that that’s a backhanded compliment, but it’s truly meant to be a full-fledged compliment. The film is good, but it isn’t any higher on this list because it’s the kind of good that isn’t very inviting. The performances are all solid, down to the small roles (y’know, the people who aren’t Frost or Nixon), the attention to period detail is well done, the dialogue pops, the direction is seamless – all very good. It’s just a hard film to really love. As the saying goes, I liked this film, but I’m not in like with it.
Iron Man was better than The Dark Knight, plain and simple. Does it hold up upon repeat viewings? Not terribly well; I’ve seen in three times and feel like there isn’t anything else I can get from it. As a theater-going experience from this year, though, Iron Man was unparalleled. I think people underrated this film because, the finale aside, it’s a fun and entertaining film that’s executed extremely well. It has no pretensions of being artful, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Most of the elements in the film are better than they have any right to be, notably Gwyneth Paltrow in a secondary role, bringing shades and depth to Pepper Potts that in a lesser film would’ve been eschewed. It already sounds like Iron Man 2 is brewing up a wonderful cast of villains and secondary characters, so I can only hope it will be just as successful an affair as the first in the series.
Who knew that the director of The Fountain could have followed up that film with The Wrestler? The two are pretty much diametrically opposed from a stylistic standpoint, with director Darren Aronofsky shooting the whole thing with what seems to be natural lighting and a handheld camera. It all plays like a Von Trier film if Von Trier ditched his usual female protagonist and went with a male protagonist. The parallels between a fading wrestler (Mickey Rourke) and an aging stripper (Marisa Tomei) are sometimes hammered home a little bit too obviously, and the whole thing takes a little too much time establishing its characters before the narrative thrusts into motion, but the whole experience is utterly moving without ever becoming cloying or overly sentimental.
I’ll say it: Burn After Reading is better than No Country for Old Men. Is it as serious a film? No, but it’s without a doubt a harder film to pull off successfully, which The Coen Brothers do with aplomb here. The film is a marvel of directorial control, with the tone never wavering too far into seriousness or too far into farce. That The Coen Brothers manage to execute such a high-wire act is a testament to their brilliant hand as directors. And that’s about all I have to say about it, which is probably an indication about why the film has slipped under the radar a bit. There’s not a whole lot of substance to the film. Ultimately, it’s fluff, but it’s fluff done about as perfectly as possible.
It’s interesting that there’s been a backlash brewing against Slumdog Millionaire in the past few weeks. I suppose that’s bound to happen when the majority latches onto a film that emerges from nowhere and then proclaims said film to be a masterpiece and starts awarding it every Best Picture prize known to man (I’m exaggerating: WALL•E and a handful of others have picked up a couple Best Picture prizes, too). I think there’s also a stigma on the film when the general consensus seems to be that it’s “a great time at the movies!” as opposed to something serious. Still, too, there’s an intriguing mix of backlash aimed at the idea that the film is simply filling a need for American audiences to feel like they’ve learned and experienced a foreign culture, even if the film deals with the harsh realities of the slums of Mumbai in a sugar-coated way. To all the naysayers, I say pssshhh. The film is entertaining, the film is a great time at the movies, and while none of my love for the film stems from this area, it is a startling look at a foreign culture. I don’t feel like a better person simply for experiencing the film’s view of Indian slums and empathizing with the poverty-stricken extras in the background, but I feel it’s integral to the film’s telling of one eponymous slumdog as he tries valiantly to escape his circumstances. Slumdog Millionaire is aesthetically brazen, acted wonderfully, and, God forbid, entertaining. It’s not just a fluke that a lot of people love this film: there’s a lot to love here.
Sally Hawkins is to be commended and held responsible for much of the successes of Happy-Go-Lucky, but it’s also nice to see her strong critical support bleed over in the form of buzz for Eddie Marsan’s performance in the film, a sign that the critical community realizes that everyone else in the damn film is operating on the same level of easy greatness that she is on. In the simple tale of a Londoner with a sunny disposition and the effect it has on the people in her life, not only is Hawkins note-perfect, but the rest of the ensemble cast is equally at ease. Credit writer/director Mike Leigh’s trademark use of extensive acting rehearsals for establishing this naturalism, but credit the actors, too, all of them. From Hawkins’s Poppy to Marsan as her driving instructor Scott, the film never once feels acted, elevating the meandering story to something approaching brilliance. It’s a film that I initially liked but as I mulled things over, the film only grew to have much more of a profound effect on me. Yes, the film is a comedy, but there is tragedy here, and it sneaks up on you at the end of the film. A lesser film would have simply presented Poppy as an idealistic character and left it at a lightweight comedy, but the filmmakers and actors are much smarter than that, and the film is that much better for it.
The first film I saw from ‘08 remains in my Top 3 one year later. Cloverfield was a film I expected to like and enjoy, but I was ultimately blown away by how well the narrative gimmick of first-person handheld camera works. It could have all fallen flat, but what the filmmakers accomplish here is an all-encompassing cinematic experience. As opposed to Rachel Getting Married, where the handheld camera work was a disservice to the finished product, the style at play in Cloverfield is every bit as necessary as the other elements of the film. In addition, you have to credit the marketing of the film for keeping surprises under wraps concerning the central monster – what a concept, keeping the monster in a monster movie a surprise. As a result, we enter the theater with preconceived notions about what we are about to see and are blindsided by the verisimilitude on display in the most unlikely of places: an action film released in January.
Wong Kar-Wai’s latest was by far the biggest surprise of the year for me. Before My Blueberry Nights even came out, the cast looked amazing and there was an element of curiosity about Norah Jones’s being cast in the lead role, but once lukewarm reviews emerged for the film, it dropped off my radar. When my roommate received it on Netflix and we watched it on a whim, I was blown away by how conflicting my reaction was about it. I’ll be the first to list the flaws in the film, but this was the odd case where the film is better for having what flaws it has. Norah Jones isn’t the greatest actress, but she’s great for this part, and that’s a key distinction to note. The film has an authentically stylized air to it, if that makes any sense. Even in the midst of occasionally hammy acting or occasionally crazy Southern accents (I’m looking at you Rachel Weisz) and a flurry of stylistic camera moves and a saturated color scheme, the film seems authentic in its study of Americana. There’s a pointed and specific atmosphere that Wong Kar-Wai is aiming for here, and he simply nails it.
As long as Pixar insists on making brilliant movies, I’ll keep putting them at the top of my year-end best lists. The first ten minutes of WALL•E are perfect, a statement I make without the slightest hint of hyperbole, and from there the film rarely misses a beat or loses steam. That Pixar is able to accomplish so much with a G-rated “children’s” film is nothing short of amazing: the thematic complexity at play here is astounding, touching on issues of friendship, the environment, and the lethargy of the populace while also paying homage to silent comedy masters from classic early cinema. WALL•E was probably one of my most anticipated films of 2008, and it was that rare case where all of those expectations were surpassed. More than that, the film completely holds up on multiple viewings, the meticulous attention to detail in the animation providing new pleasures with each viewing. With Pixar, the question with each subsequent film is no longer whether it’s good or not, but rather how much they’ve been able to top their own standards. I’d be far from surprised to see their next film, Up, at the top of my list next year. (No pressure, Pixar.) Even if they don’t live up to their last two efforts next year, Pixar is still responsible for making the best film from 2008.
© 2004-2009 Ben Waldorf. Posted January 20, 2009.