Better Late Than Never: Best Films of 2002
Jul 08 '03
The Bottom Line Great cinema is timeless. Here are some films that were built to last.
As someone who at the very least tries to put forth the appearance of being a critic, I’m growing increasingly frustrated with the American release system and its relationship with “official release dates.” Because I don’t live in the artistically-privileged metropoli of NYC and LA (universally-recognizable city initials = instant cred) I’m forced to wait months if not years for the films I’ve been eagerly awaiting. Even worse, sometimes the distribution process gets held up by foreign deal-making and the high turnover rate for fledgling distribution companies- case in point, I still haven’t seen either Shinji Aoyama’s alleged masterpiece Eureka or my beloved Hirokazu Kore-eda’s most recent film Distance, and it doesn’t appear as if I’ll be seeing them anytime in the foreseeable future.
“So why bother making a top 10 list for 2002 if you’re so dubious of the idea of release dates?” you ask- or maybe you don’t, I dunno. “And in July, no less?” The sad sad truth is that I’m fascinated with the making of film-related lists. I enjoy imposing order where none belongs (in this venue, anyway), and I take a great interest in the lists of others. Of course, best-movie-lists are strictly a matter of personal taste above and beyond any supposedly “objective” criteria. My top films aren’t going to be exactly the same as your top films, and if they are then I fear our conversations will be all too short.
Now to the question of timing. I could make a big self-righteous fuss and say that compiling a top-10 essay in frickin’ JULY is my act of civil disobedience against the American distribution system, but that would be lying. Mostly I’m just doing this piece now because I finally feel that I’ve seen just about all the 2002 films I’m going to see for a while. I’ve missed a couple (most notably Morvern Callar) but I don’t imagine I’ll be seeing them anytime soon, and I’m not in the mood to wait any longer. Best to get this over with, I say.
******
Some 2002 trends worth mentioning:
Melodrama comes roaring back. 2001 saw an upswing in film noir (Mulholland Drive, The Man Who Wasn’t There, etc.), but this past year marked a resurgence of melodrama with its heightened emotion, lush visual style and rich sense of performance. Far From Heaven inhabited the genre with expert flair, while both 8 Women and Talk to Her gleefully fused melodramatic conventions with other inspirations.
The fall of Miramax. Yeah, Weinstein still knows how to rock the Oscar™ vote, but his studio’s output just isn’t at the level it once was. Consider that the ‘Max once released Pulp Fiction, Red, and Heavenly Creatures within a month or so of each other- masterpieces all. This year, the closest they came to making one for the ages was Gangs of New York, which while thrilling for much of its length had more than its share of troubles as well. Has increased clout gone to Harvey’s head?
9/11 reaction still subdued in mainstream cinema. “We will never forget,” read the omnipresent bumper stickers, but is it still too soon for audiences to be reminded of it by Hollywood? The only major studio film to portray the aftermath of the attacks was Spike Lee’s 25th Hour, which hardly made a ripple in the public consciousness. Meanwhile most of the U.S. has yet to see The Guys or 11ֽ㧑. Even the shot of the Twin Towers at the end of Gangs of New York has generated surprisingly little buzz. What does this mean, I wonder.
*****
While assigning release dates to recent films can be a dicey proposition, there were a number of notable films which opened here in Columbus and most certainly were not 2002 releases. Among them were:
Lola, Jacques Demy’s debut feature, which saw the obsessions which found their way into his masterpiece The Umbrellas of Cherbourg already in full flower;
Performance, the rock’n’roll mind-bender which became a cult classic, a kind of spiritual cousin to Mulholland Drive;
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, a grand old-fashioned family entertainment from back when that phrase meant something other than “kiddie flick”
Band of Outsiders, one of Jean-Luc Godard’s best films and possibly the most poetic of his early output;
As well as the following series of films- February’s Guy Maddin retrospective at the Wexner Center, Wexner’s summer-long look at the British New Wave, the Ohio 24-Hour Science Fiction Marathon which found a new home at the Arena Grand in April, and naturally October’s Nightmare at Studio 35 (with guest appearance by Bruce Campbell). And a big raspberry to whoever kept Abbas Kiarostami from flying into the U.S. and causing him to miss the Wexner’s mini-retrospective of his work in October.
****
If some of the best films I saw in 2002 were arguably released in previous years, the worst films of 2002 were clearly of this past year. Maybe it’s because nobody else would dare claim them. It’s clear that I see more bad films that most non-critics would choose to see, mainly because I don’t have to pay for the great majority of them. Also, some friends and I had a tradition called “Bad Movie Monday” throughout much of the summer and fall, so that surely contributed to the number of awful films I saw. Most of the bad stuff was just a waste of my time, but a few were worse than that. I’d rather have live cockroaches implanted under my fingernails without the benefit of anesthetic than subject myself to these films again: Frailty, The Hot Chick, Igby Goes Down, Jason X, National Lampoon’s Van Wilder, xXx, and especially The Master of Disguise and Serving Sara.
***
I adjusted my rating system in 2002, changing it from the four-star scale to the more traditional A-F classroom grades. I found that this scale distinguished the best films from each other quality-wise more satisfactorily than a simple four-star rating, which I often gave to around twenty films per year. My top ten is comprised exclusively of films with A and A- ratings, but I like the extra mystique the A rating provides. This rating is to be given to true masterpieces, films which represent to me what great cinema can be and do so for the entirety of their running time. Naturally, only a handful of films every year qualify as masterpieces.
2002 saw, by my estimation, five masterpieces. After applying the new system to this past year’s films, I went back through my archive of yearly top-ten lists going back at least three decades, deciding which films qualified as masterpieces by my yardstick. Examination of these previous lists revealed that 2002 had the highest number of masterpieces of any year since 1999 (After Life, Bringing Out the Dead, Three Kings, Topsy-Turvy, and The War Zone) though not as many as the banner years of 1994 and 1988, which saw six masterpieces each.
Am I a pushover? I don’t think so. Appreciating cinema is purely subjective, when it all comes down to it, and just as all the filmic know-how doesn’t amount to a heap of manure when you can’t stand to watch the movie, one latches onto a good film because it strikes some kind of deeper chord inside him, be it emotional or intellectual. In other words, I calls ‘em as I sees ‘em.
2002’s masterpieces, in alphabetical order:
8 Women. I’ve said so much about this film and in so many arenas that I run the risk of repeating myself, but I’ll try to say something original here. Francois Ozon’s film was a pure delight for me, one which captivated me time and again in the theatre and held court over my imagination for weeks after. Why can’t I get enough of this movie? Some distance has allowed me insight into that question. While I love the cast (Deneuve! Huppert! Ardant! And all the rest down to Ludivine Sagnier who will warrant her own exclamation point soon enough) and the French-ness of it all, the real reason I adore 8 Women is what Ozon does as a director. He begins with the style of classical melodrama and the plot of a murder mystery and then proceeds to graft on bits and pieces- here a striptease, there a torch song, everywhere a goddess-on-Gallic-goddess liplock (pant, pant!)- with a wicked glee comparable to that of the character Sid in Toy Story, who gutted his toys and put them together into freakazoid concoctions. 8 Women, to its eternal credit, is every bit as strange and wonderful as any baby head with spider legs.
Russian Ark. I have a friend who called Alexander Sokurov’s film the worst of 2002, saying, “I was shaking from the sheer boredom.” Funnily enough, this film left me shaking as well, but in my case it was because it so enraptured me. As experimental in form as anything released here over the past year, the film is less a conventional story than it is a guided tour through St. Petersburg’s Hermitage, which is now a museum but is seen here as haunted by the ghost’s of the building’s (and the nation’s) past. Appreciation of the film begins with its technical prowess, but it’s such a unique work of art that it avoids becoming a mere exercise.
Songs From the Second Floor. Director Roy Andersson was unfamiliar to me before the release of this film, but this work alone led me to believe that he’s one of the most original voices in cinema today. The film is a wildly comic and bizarre look at a city in chaos, with the populace believing that the apocalypse is nigh. Andersson organizes the film in mostly static long-shots, observing the strange goings-on from a distance and with such a sharp eye that his framing alone heightens the effect of the scene. Songs contains some of the most indelible images of any film of 2002: the parade of flagellants, the little girl led to sacrifice, the angelic choir, the panic in the train station. Be warned though: this is unlike any film you’ve ever seen. In the best way.
Talk to Her. Pedro Almodovar is a national treasure in Spain, and when a country idolizes a guy who makes films this rich and wonderful it makes me almost want to move there (shame I don’t speak the language). Almodovar has outdone himself with this film, which has so many original ideas and makes all of them work wonderfully. It’s difficult to say which is more brilliant: that he would take a character we like and have the audacity to have him do something reprehensible, or that he would convey the reprehensible act not by showing the action itself but by implying it in an uproarious sequence that at the time plays like a plot detour. Here’s a master artist at the top of his game, making a film that’s like a gift for those who love cinema.
25th Hour. Speaking of being at the top of his game, this was Spike Lee’s best film since Do the Right Thing, as well as (by a wide margin) the best Hollywood film of 2002. Lee is first and foremost a New Yorker, and here he used the setting of the city he loves in recovery from 9/11 in a way that hits home in a way that no Army billboard or Giuliani cameo ever could- and that’s not even the film’s main storyline. 25th Hour is ultimately a film about the necessity- nay, the inevitability- of confronting the choices we’ve made in life. All the film’s characters, especially Monty (Edward Norton), are forced to make choices to which none of the consequences seem to be especially attractive, and Lee’s message is that these choices if postponed can escalate until we hardly have a choice at all. The film’s heartbreaking final sequence presents Monty, and the audience, with one final option, and in the end leaves everything up to us.
**
Here are all my A- films of 2002. I’ll get around to the actual list, but I just had to say SOMETHING about all of them. In their own way, they all deserve a spot in the top ten. Too bad I don’t believe in ties, ya know?
About Schmidt. Alexander Payne’s film is funny in the moment, but its portrait of Warren Schmidt gradually outliving his usefulness in the world is profoundly sad. Jack Nicholson’s performance reminds you that the guy can still act.
All or Nothing. A penetrating portrait of a working-class London family that is growing apart, from Mike Leigh, a master of the domestic drama. The film features three excellent turns from Timothy Spall, Lesley Manville, and the scene-stealing Ruth Sheen.
Bloody Sunday. This is a harrowing re-creation of the 1971 Derry Massacre, filmed by director Paul Greengrass in a faux-documentary style that feels entirely appropriate. And at least he manages to hold off on using the U2 song until the end credits.
Bowling For Columbine. Michael Moore, one-man political juggernaut for the left, created not a traditional documentary but rather an often-hilarious patchwork quilt on the issues of gun control, media, and paranoia in the United States- issues which aren’t as isolated from each other as we’d like to believe.
Cherish. The year’s niftiest surprise tells the story of a 80s-music-loving woman who is placed under house arrest and, paradoxically, learns to become independent. Robin Tunney, who I’ve never much liked before as an actress, won me over this time around.
*Corpus Callosum. Avant-garde elder statesman Michael Snow’s latest experimental film shows that he’s as inventive as ever, as he juxtaposes the tradition and stasis of the home with the technology and momentum of the workplace. There’s too much to digest on one viewing, but Snow’s experimentation is so much fun that I can’t wait to see it again.
Devils on the Doorstep. Chinese actor Jiang Wen directed and starred in a film about a WW2-era faced with peril when two Japanese prisoners of war are dropped there. The film combines the terror of wartime with pitch-black comedy, as the film gradually builds to a powerful conclusion.
Far From Heaven. The inspiration for this film came from the work of Douglas Sirk, but the work itself belongs to director Todd Haynes, who carefully uses the mechanism of 50s melodrama to examine the roots of prejudice and exclusion in all societies. The film looks exactly right, and great performances by Julianne Moore, Dennis Quaid, and Dennis Haysbert fit the style perfectly.
The Fast Runner (Atanarjuat). This film, based on an Inuit legend and shot with Inuit actors in their original language, is nothing if not anthropologically fascinating, but that wouldn’t be enough to warrant a spot on this list. Above all, Zacharias Kunuk (giving us the year’s best debut film) has made a film that is a triumph of storytelling, emphasizing the importance storytelling has on every culture, even ours.
Gangs of New York. Martin Scorsese’s film, after a long and checkered history, isn’t perfect, but when it’s on, it cooks. The film evokes its period in lavish detail (how did Dante Ferretti’s sets NOT win the Oscar™?), and Daniel Day-Lewis’ performance as the villainous Bill the Butcher is nothing short of Dickensian in its conception and execution.
The Pianist. Naysayers will declare that Roman Polanski’s drama is merely another of a seemingly endless parade of “Holocaust films”, but I think the film is more about the way in which a man somehow survives a great horror and then must face the reality of his survival in light of all the death and destruction around him. Adrien Brody’s subtle performance (much of it in his eyes) is heartbreaking.
The Piano Teacher. Isabelle Huppert gives the year’s best performance as Erika Kohut, who uses the power she wields over her students as a cover for darker secrets. While Michael Haneke’s film (taken from Elfriede Jelinek’s probing novel) focuses on her sexual perversities, it’s ultimately about deeper issues of control in Erika’s life, culminating with the chilling final moments of the film.
Roger Dodger. In Dylan Kidd’s debut film, Campbell Scott stars as a verbose ad exec who leads his underage nephew on a tour of New York nightlife, talking a blue streak all the way. Scott’s performance is a revelation, as he uses his verbal jousting as an outlet for the character’s anxiety and rage.
Spirited Away. Easily the year’s best animated film, from Japanese master Hayao Miyazaki, this is a kind of Alice in Wonderland-style fantasy about a young girl trapped in a fantasy world. Miyazaki’s animation shows evidence of many months of careful work, and it pays off magnificently in some positively rapturous images.
13 Conversations About One Thing. Jill Sprecher’s film is a meditation on the role of fate in the modern life, telling several stories which circle around a seemingly innocuous conversation in a bar. The film’s ultimate triumph is the way the different stories bounce off each other in inventive ways, and its ensemble is wonderful, particularly Alan Arkin and William Wise as two insurance agents whose outlooks are as different as night and day.
Tully. This wonderful sleeper is set in a midwest farming community, and the key to the success is that director Hilary Birmingham doesn’t condescend to her characters. Rather than portraying them as simpletons, she fleshes them out, makes room for complexities and contradictions, and finds their humanity.
What Time Is It There? Like Sprecher’s film, Tsai Ming-liang’s strange concoction examines several intertwined lives, but in a way that defies us to find connections between them. As a girl flies off to Paris, a boy who barely knew her becomes obsessed with her, and his mother fixates on her husband’s memory, what are we to make of them?
Y Tu Mama Tambien. Just when I thought the cinema had forgotten how to be sexy, Alfonso Cuaron’s film proved me wrong. On top of that, he also weaves a tapestry about the difficulties of life in modern Mexico, the fleeting nature of the friendship between teenage boys, and a woman (played in a lovely performance by Maribel Verdu) with a sad yet liberating secret.
*
As I recently discussed with a friend of mine, a top-ten list is hardly permanent. One’s opinions of a given film can ebb and flow like the tide, and besides, trying to declare one film better than a very different one is a fool’s gesture. Ask me about my list a week from now and I’m sure that I will have changed my mind at least once.
Bearing this in mind, here’s my top 10 for 2002, in order of sureness that it belongs on this list. The top five films on the list, naturally, are the masterpieces I listed above. The rest aren’t quite as certain, and the film in the number-ten position is hanging by the proverbial thread. But for now, I’m pretty okay with this list.
1. 8 Women
2. Songs From the Second Floor
3. 25th Hour
4. Russian Ark
5. Talk to Her
6. What Time Is It There?
7. Spirited Away
8. Y Tu Mama Tambien
9. The Piano Teacher
10. Far From Heaven
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Epinions.com ID:
hkoreeda
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Member: Paul Clark
Location: Ohio
Reviews written: 35
Trusted by: 9 members
About Me:
What's the polite term for "unemployed wannabe critic"?
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