Fareed's Top 10 Movies of 2008

With the Oscars upon us and "The Reader" set to pick up a Best Picture win (*kidding*), it seems appropriate to list my top 10 movies of 2008.

1. The Dark Knight

Grand filmmaking at its most ambitious and intelligent. For a longer defense of the fil’s merits check out my editorial:

http://www.dailyprincetonian.com/2009/02/19/22799/

For reasons I don't quite understand, the people at Domino's pizza presented the most riveting and thematically rich preview of the movie:

2. Waltz with Bashir

This stunning animated Israeli documentary beautifully captures the visceral chaos of history. Director Ari Folman smartly uses the innocuous side of the animated medium to completely immerse the audience within the mindsets of soldiers caught within a frightening and pointless war. The inclusion of live-action documentary footage at the end of the film makes for one the most emotionally devastating moments in cinema this year.

3. Gran Torino

Over the past decade, Clint Eastwood has been on an artistic role producing consistently taught and remarkably poignant work. "Gran Torino" serves as a moving tribute to both Eastwood's career and his transformation from brusque action hero to perceptive artist. That it received no Oscar nods cements this work as an underrated masterpiece.

4. Man on Wire

The story of the peculiar Phillip Petit's mission to walk on a tight rope between the two World Trade Center towers could have been nothing more than a 90 minute curiosity. Like Werner Herzog, documentarian James Marsh proves capable of capturing the inspiring beauty that lies at the core of his subject's eccentric quest. To quote from my original review," “Man on Wire” stands as a beautiful testament to an impossible dream and a quiet love letter to the majesty of New York City."

5. Let the Right One In

The Swedish gem was not only one of the best vampire film of 2008, it was also one of the finest examples of world cinema. Its story of a young boy meeting a girl-turned-vampire masterfully explored the horrors of childhood while delivering a truly haunting genre experience. See it now before it gets its planned American remake.

6. Vicky Cristina Barcelona

Woody Allen's oh-so-charming "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" is sexy without showing more than an ounce of skin, engaging without being intellectually pompous. A film of boundless energy and vigor.

7. Happy-go-lucky

Sally Hawkins delivers the finest female performance of the year in Mike Leigh's fantastic film that explores the dark side of ebullience.

8. In Bruges

A textbook example of how to effectively walk the line between film genres. This deftly scripted film about two hit men who find themselves holed up in Belgium is at once tragic, hilarious and oddly surreal.

9. A Christmas Tale

French director Arnaud Desplechin crafts a disquieting Kafkaesque tale of family dysfunction that is elevated by the electric chemistry between Catherine Deneuvre and Mathieu Amalric as a mother-son pair who despise each other. Rarely has hate been rendered so palpable on the screen.

10. The Wrestler

While Mickey Rourke deserves every bit of praise he's received for his stunning portrayal as a fallen professional wrestler, the film is a wonderful showcase for Darren Aronofsky. His appropriately brutal imagery boldly illuminates the art behind the spectacle. If that wasn’t enough, the film features the most moving endings in recent memory.

Most underrated movie of the year: Che

A difficult, often misunderstood epic about the guerrilla leader Che Guevara that eschews cheap emotional theatrics for real insight into the tragically misguided leader. Hopefully, it will be rediscovered in years to come.

A Cinematic Predecessor to "Slumdog" ?

To celebrate the Oscars, I wanted to present a possible precursor to "Slumdog Millionaire" that has been much lauded for the seemingly out-of-nowhere Bollywood dance at the end of the film. It reminded me of the samurai film “Zatoichi” made in 2004 by Japanese auteur Takeshi Kitano:

Keep in mind that this finale follows a relatively conventional though sharply directed samurai film. The result of this juxtaposition? A sublime and joyous scene.

Belated but still timely review of 'Milk'

The other day, I entered Small World Coffee to have my soy latte fix, only to spot Alison Pill (the actress in ‘Milk’ who plays the lesbian Anne Kronenberg active in Harvey Milk’s campaign) relaxing with a coffee in hand and a Labyrinth bag leaning against her extended calf. I could not contain myself any longer. I had to know. I approached her, and found that she was a pleasant and charmingly awkward individual. She helped me confirm my longstanding belief: Gus Van Sant was an amazing director.

Many consider Van Sant to be the auteur of our time, versed with a distinctive perspective that caters to an esoteric, arthouse audience while still able to traverse the gap into the mainstream Hollywood arena. With the biopic ‘Milk’, the acclaimed director of Oscar winning ‘Good Will Hunting’ and ‘Elephant’, has delivered another tour de force.

It is not difficult to compare Van Sant’s efforts in supplying a forceful dent to the perceptions of conventional society with Harvey Milk’s own achievements. It is also inevitable, post-Prop 8, to regard the film ‘Milk’ as an invigorating stimulation for the gay community enraged by the de-evolution of human progress and acceptance in California. ‘Milk’ is thus, not only a reenactment of an individual’s life, but also a political beacon, the torch whose display of splendor does not disappoint. The awards and nominations it has garnered so far can attest to that.

The opening scenes of the film set the tone, where Harvey Milk (Sean Penn in another astounding performance) picks up Scott Smith (James Franco) in a subway station to avoid spending another birthday alone. They spend the night at Milk’s and formulate a new resolution: to move to San Francisco, make a difference in the gay community, and peel away from the confines of the closet.

‘Milk’ is very much a collaborative effort between director and ensemble performers. Penn, in a role that requires a 180 degree turn from his award-winning Byronic character in ‘Mystic River’, portrays a flamboyantly vociferous figure to perfection. Playing a distraught and neglected ‘housewife’, Franco withdraws from the comfort zone once again and absolutely delivers. Supplement this with Emile Hirsch’s ex-gigolo turned aid, and the cast is unbeatable. Even the ever chameleon-like Josh Brolin, last seen in Oliver Stone’s ‘W.’ and ‘No Country for Old Men’, was able to pull off a disappointingly flat character and transform it into an individual wrought with insecurities and anger.

The extensive interpolation of conventional film, Super-8 film and archival, 60s footage provides a congenial quality that reminds one of neglected memories, of lost childhood, love and encounters. One of the strongest moments in the film is when the camera zooms out of Penn and Franco locked in an intimate and passionate kiss, by a sign stating ‘we are open’ in reference to their newly opened camera shop, unafraid of outsider persecution. The moment grainy quality that seems to capture fragility and nostalgia of the time.

Ten years down the road however, this film will likely be forgotten because it falls victim to its own forceful message. It is so oversaturated with gay rights themes that after 2 hours of repetition, the characters and voice of the film become quite one-dimensional. At times it seems like we were watching a crusader movie. Even Dan White’s already underdeveloped motive for killing Milk and the Mayor George Mascone, is overshadowed by the dominant spirit of gay activism. While the film flimsily suggests White’s homosexual tendencies, it felt inadequate. Perhaps a double bill in the vein of the ‘Flag of Our Fathers’ and ‘Letters from Iwo Jima’ is needed to expound the interesting background of White’s emotional and psychological turmoil.

Nonetheless, while it lasts, ‘Milk’ is an epic effort by the maverick Gus Van Sant, and would definitely collect many awards come Oscar day.

Paws: Four our of Five
Pros: Great acting, distinctive filmmaking and beautifully filmed scenes.
Cons: Over-saturation of gay rights theme gets tedious after 2 hours.
Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=unu-9vM9VZw

My beef with Uggs...

I know that I should just give up already, but I still don't understand what is so great about Ugg boots, and I really wish people would stop wearing them. Why is this the one fad that refuses to die? Sure, I mean, they're cozy (I did, I am ashamed to say, own a pair at one point in my life), but doesn't anyone have any semblance of originality anymore? There are plenty of other comfortable shoes out there, like moovboots, the wellies lined with sheepskin that I am dying to get my hands on...they're so cute from the outside, that no one has an inkling that your feet are luxuriating in a soft heavenly wonderland. Warm and waterproof...what else can a girl want?

Many things, as it turns out, not least that females within my eyesight graduate to grown up boots, like Frye, and cease to inundate my poor helpless vision with those hideous brown suede "Ugly" Boots (their proper Australian name). They make you look like a fat tourist from Idaho, munching on a street vendor's pretzel while staring star-struck at Rockefeller Center. Please, take my advice, be a little different, and go downtown, buy some, "gasp", vintage boots, and ditch that Vera Bradley/Longchamp bag in favor of a nice leather tote (I particularly am in favor of those from Anthropologie, but understand that they are a little trop cher, vintage is always a more interesting alternative anyway). Only then can my sense of aesthetic rest in peace, happy with the knowledge that people are choosing to resist the devastating tendency to conform.

Reluctantly enjoying bad movies over Winter Break

Normally breaks of any kind are my excuse to immerse myself in a lot of film. My patented daily regimen called “Fareed’s 7 Easy Steps to Cinematic Nirvana” typically goes as follows:

1. Wake up
2. Watch a movie
3. Eat lunch
4. Watch a movie
5. Eat dinner
6. Wrap up the day with one last movie.
7. Repeat this process until arriving at Princeton.

Although I would have liked to follow my time tested routine during the winter break, it was not to be. Lingering academic work and grad school applications forced me to keep my nose in the books (*shudder*)

When I had a chance to watch any movies, it wasn't any Oscar bait. As a matter of fact, I think two of the films I've seen at the cinema would be more comfortable being a part of the upcoming Razzies.

1. Punisher War Zone

2. Brubaker (a Netflix selection of a pretty good Robert Redford flick from the 1980s. I spent most of the time thinking "he really hasn't aged that much during the period between this movie and 2007’s 'Lions for Lambs.').

3. Twilight (since everyone seems to be weighing in on the cultural phenomenon, what's the harm of one more review?)

4. L'Apprenti (a delightful little French film about a boy who dreams of becoming a simple 'paysan,' a farmer. Oddly enough, rather than transporting me to another world, it only reminded me how some aspects of my native Montanan culture remain entrenched in times past).

Punisher War Zone

Youtube Trailer:

I knew things weren't going to be ideal when the first movie I saw during break was the new "Punisher" movie. Everything you've heard about the movie is true. It's terrible, I mean awful. It's tonally inconsistent, and barring a few choice moments, relies too heavily on neon lights and shadowy corridors to create a "gritty" atmosphere. One of its rare choice moments stems directly from Frank Miller's renowned graphic novel "Batman: Year One."

During a scene the Punisher invades a mobster's dinner party, the lights go out and suddenly a red flare lights up revealing the menacing vigilante (00:46 in the above trailer). In the Miller comic book, Batman gives a foreboding speech telling the mob bosses that their days are numbered. In the movie, however, Punisher (AKA Frank Castle) kills everybody including a random old lady. The initial moment where the Punisher stands on the table illuminated by a harsh red light, seemingly ripped from the Batman tale, was one of the few moments where I thought "this is awesome," instead of “this is awesomely hilarious.".

All of its problems however, do not take away from the fact that the movie is Mystery Science Theater-style fun. I laughed more during this picture than the on-point comedy "Pineapple Express." See it if your tired of great films, and are seeking some visceral, trashy thrills.

Twilight

Youtube trailer:

"Twilight" is another bad movie that can be enjoyed for somehow making $35 million look like 5 bucks on the screen. The effects are atrocious, and the acting equally so (except for the heartthrob star Robert Pattinson who understands exactly what he needs to do in order to strike a chord with audiences. In fact, he is the only person with any screen presence. It's almost as though the film is deliberately trying to amplify this quality of Pattinson by populating the screen with teenage performers who deliver their lines with all the enthusiasm of a freshly lobotomized R.P. McMurphy). Worse still, the film's pacing is meandering which guarantees that the picture falls into the trap that afflicts many mediocre works, it's occasionally boring (unlike the far worse but often more amusing Punisher).

Its one redeeming feature besides its unintended comedic ones is that the film stands as a meditation on teenage romance by generation trained with abstinence programs. Sex, even physical touch, has been replaced by longing looks and chaste caresses. The central message of "Twilight" appears to be that relationships can only be romantic and worthwhile when every aspect of explicit sexuality has been drained out.

And that's it. The numbers of films screened over vacation have been woefully low. That's one of the sacrifices of making a sojourn to Montana than industrial France during that delightful period when the studios seem driven to put all their best movies out in art-house theaters at the same time. Hopefully, you all have had a bit more luck than me with your choice of films over break, and if you are ever wondering how to spend those many empty days outside of Princeton feel free to try “Fareed’s 7 Easy Steps to Cinematic Nirvana.”

So, you're still not over Twilight...

I admit: I am that girl. You know, the girl who read all four Twilight books and went to see the movie and (don’t laugh) thought Edward’s crooked smile was adorable. It sounds bad, but I’m here to confess my latest sin against intelligent thought. Even after I realized that the books were ridiculous and the movie was a low-budget, ridiculously cheesy farce that may have violated the Geneva Conventions by tormenting its audience with heaps of sloppy, angsty dialogue, I went back for more: I read the partial draft of “Midnight Sun.”

For those in the know (or anyone who’s remotely interested in the Twilight series), “Midnight Sun” is the first book of the quartet rewritten from Edward’s perspective. Unlike “Wicked” and other spin-off novels, “Midnight Sun” was written (or, to be more accurate, is in the process of being written), by Stephenie Meyer, the imaginative woman who penned the first four Twilight books. When someone in Meyer’s camp first leaked the draft of “Midnight Sun” she was furious over the apparent violation of her rights as an author and swore never to finish the novel. According to her website, she doesn’t want anyone to read the viral version of “Midnight Sun” but she also doesn’t want to spur readers to seek out the illegal version. As a compromise, she posted to the draft on her website but urged her fans not to read it. Luckily, I’m not a fan.

First, I need to add a little disclaimer. “Midnight Sun” only makes sense if you’ve read all of the other Twilight books. Many of the details of vampirism or the Cullen family history (for example, Jasper’s story) to which Edward alludes during his narration appear only in the last couple of books in the series. Wading through Edward’s tangled psyche is trying enough without having to figure out what you’ve missed from the other books. If you attempt “Midnight Sun” without the background provided by the rest of the “Twilight” books you might assume that you didn’t enjoy the draft because you missed some of the details when, in fact, you probably didn’t enjoy it because of the awful writing and tedious pace.

Question: Why read “Midnight Sun” at all?

Answer: You probably shouldn’t but sometimes you’re just THAT bored. Maybe you liked the books. Maybe you saw the movie. Maybe you thought the combination of the first two left something to be desired, so you kept digging.

For what it’s worth, “Midnight Sun” compares nicely with the original version of “Twilight.” In some ways, the vampire version is better, but in other ways, much worse. During pre-production for the film, Meyer and Robert Pattinson, who played Edward in the movie, worked together to develop a believable personality for the blood-sucking protagonist. The two disagreed on certain aspects because Pattison took the character to a tortured extreme. In several interviews, he said that he drew most of his inspiration for Edward from the “Midnight Sun” version. Well, that would explain why the character was such a huge creeper.

Essentially, “Midnight Sun” is not so much a different version of Twilight as it is a creepier version of Twilight (and I mean much, much creepier.) For what it’s worth, the creepiness does make the narration more interesting. My biggest gripe about Twilight was Bella’s lack of depth as a character. Her motivations seemed so ridiculous. She was just acting out a teenage daydream and projecting unrealistic fantasies on the people around her. How boring. In contrast, Edward is seriously sick in the head. Every sleazy voyeur dreams of Edward’s powers. Not only can he scale walls and silently climb into the bedrooms of unsuspecting girls and not only can he remain completely still while observing his subject for hours, he can read minds. In other words, he can spy on people through their own eyes. He experiences the fantasies of all the high school girls around him from the first person point of view. Talk about freaky—Freud would have loved to get his hands on some of that crazy.

As disturbing as that sounds, it makes for much more compelling reading than Bella’s whiny oh-my-gosh-did-he-just-look-at-me-wow internal monologue. That’s the best thing about crazy people: they are so much fun. Edward’s narration has some of the same attraction that Heath Ledger’s Joker commanded in “The Dark Knight.” You caught hints of Edward’s mental instability in the Twilight books. For example, even the oblivious Bella was a little freaked out by Edward’s penchant for watching her sleep in the original novel. In the “Midnight Sun” version, his psychological issues are a little more apparent. For example, the first time he climbs in her window he realizes he should bring oil to grease up the hinges on the window for future visits. Creep much?

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Just like Meyer’s other books, the narration quickly becomes tedious and plot development slows to a crawl. No amount of crazy can make up for the fact that nothing is really happening in the story. And Edward’s crazy isn’t a dynamic, fluid, fascinating crazy like the Joker. He’s a one-trick pony. His emotional agony, which should have been a symphony of crazy with rolling highs and bitter lows from a century’s worth of experience, had just one note: angst. In the hands of a better author, “Midnight Sun” could have been very cool. Beautiful, bloodthirsty, mind-reading immortal struggles with his conscience for control of his superhuman body, agile mind, and frail emotions—what’s not to love? Unfortunately, Stephenie Meyer is not a better author and “Midnight Sun” has many of the failings of the first version.

So, if you’re like me, no review is going to deter you from satisfying your curiosity, but you’ve been warned. When you’re done reading, you’ll realize that all 264 pages of the draft could be summed up by, “Hi. My name is Edward the Vampire. I like to kill people, but let’s keep that on the down-low while I stalk this high school girl. P.S. I’m in your head.”

Slumdog Millionaire is a must see

Looking for a way relieve your boredom during winter break? Street writer Zack Newick gives his take on the Golden Globe nominated Slumdog Millionaire:

I come out of the theater feeling slightly dazed and all together happy. It’s freezing and my breath is realized as white smoke in front of my face. I’ve just seen Danny Boyle’s Slumdog Millionaire, a film that manages to make life beautiful. There, I said it. I had forgotten that the words could go together, but there is such a joy in the film, despite impossible hardship and cruelty that it is hard not to feel reassured that love always finds its way.

Danny Boyle, previously the director of Trainspotting, constructs and makes real an India that festers beneath trash and violence yet still shines gloriously through. With scenes of stray dogs and lost children wandering the bustling streets of Mumbai and images that seem to melt through the screen, so noxious are the smells and corrosive the colors, the setting seems something like a dystopian paradise. The story is a simple one: of love struck Jamal Malik, an orphan from Mumbai, and his quest to win the heart of the beautiful Latika, whom he met while at an orphan camp when he was seven. At the age of nineteen, he is a tea server at an Indian telemarketing company and an unlikely contestant on the Indian version of “Who Wants to be a Millionaire?” in the hopes that Latika will be watching, somewhere.

Jamal doesn’t really expect to get very far on the program however, but it turns out that the tragedies he has endured and the small victories he has claimed have given him every answer to the questions on this fateful day. Seeing his mother bludgeoned to death by anti-Muslim marauders, stealing shoes at the Taj Mahal and diving into human excrement for the sake of an autograph end up giving Jamal the exact knowledge he needs for one magical night on television.

The film opens however with his torture and interrogation, as the show's host doubts that an orphan up from poverty could ever win such a prize. But in this fairytale of a story , the worst of India is still gorgeous, and the best of man is accentuated. With a breathless soundtrack and stunning cinematography, Slumdog Millionaire is must-see entertainment.

Check out the trailer: