The 18 Best Films of 2011

Films in blue will not receive a US release in 2011. Nonetheless, I saw them in 2011 and, as you can see, they are very much a part of the film landscape for this year. It's 18 because that's the number of As, A-s, and B+s I gave. I have not gotten around to seeing a number of films that may have made an impact on here, among them "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo," "Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy," "Hugo," "The Adventures of Tintin," "Carnage," "The Arbor," and "Le Quattro Volte." From my reviews of them (if and when I do end up seeing them), you should be able to tell if and where they would have fit on this list.

A special mention goes to Rainer Werner Fassbinder's "World on a Wire," which blew me away during a Janus Films rerelease this year. And a huge omission based on release is Abbas Kiarostami's "Certified Copy," which I included at #8 on my Top Ten list last year and would place at #5 on the first list and #3 on the second. I didn't want to include it in multiple years as that wouldn't exactly be fair.

Dishonorable mentions to "We Need to Talk About Kevin," "Shut Up Little Man!" and "The Man Who Fell to Earth," my three least favorite films that I saw this year (the last in a re-release). "Tyrannosaur" (minus Olivia Colman) is down there too.

18. Pariah (Dee Rees)

Rees showcases her remarkable way around a scene, allowing able actors to give their best in a movie that only really falters when you pull back to survey the entire (uneven) picture. The cinematography is extremely evocative, perhaps even too much.

17. City of Life and Death (Lu Chuan)

Some sudsy subplots dilute the greatness here, but what works emotionally is magnificent and truly devastating. If Lu Chuan can harness the transcendent power given off in fits and starts by this movie and make a fuller film, the results will be breathtaking.

16. Pina (Wim Wenders)

If only Wenders had elected to make the film completely dance-based. The 3D is wonderful, and it helps create a beguiling, enjoyable experience unlike anything I’ve ever seen (even though there are apparently other movies about Bausch’s troupe).

15. Heartbeats (Xavier Dolan)

An exuberant, opulent film that moves adeptly between relaxed and quietly upsetting modes (knowing when to step on the narrative gas pedal and when to kick back and just let the images roll by). Dolan makes it quite entertaining, both by being in it and filling it with wowing design.

14. Cold Weather (Aaron Katz)

Katz takes humorous and incisive jabs at slackers with this well-made, slow-paced, strongly-acted piece. I hope to see Cris Lankenau and especially Raul Castillo again in later films; they rank high among my acting discoveries this year.

13. The Myth of the American Sleepover (David Robert Mitchell)

Enjoyable and with strong cinematic qualities, “Sleepover” disarms with its engaging characters and the smart screenwriting decisions of developing director Mitchell. I wouldn’t call it exactly indelible, but surely meaningful and diverting.

12. A Separation (Asghar Farhadi)

The most beloved foreign film this year, “A Separation” doesn’t quite live up to the colossal hype in my view. But it’s still very good, with four extremely affecting performances that should shake anyone and certain scenes (especially the ones with the judge) that heave with relentless, powerful emotion.

11. Weekend (Andrew Haigh)

Naturalism is tricky, but Tom Cullen ends up hitting all the right notes as the real lead in “Weekend” (as the film is essentially viewed from his POV). Chris New provides the ideal support, as do Haigh directing and Urszula Pontikos shooting, and the result is a terrific character study that looks at being gay in today’s world.

10. The Kid With a Bike (Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne)

The last scene is what lingers most to me, but “The Kid With a Bike” is absorbing from beginning to end, built on an exceptional performance from child actor Thomas Doret. The casting is exquisite and the storytelling is conventional but wonderfully spiraling a la “Bicycle Thieves.”

9. Attenberg (Athina Rachel Tsangari)

More watchable and less uncomfortable than fellow Greek New Waver “Dogtooth,” but just as observant and unsentimental. Ariane Labed puts on a disturbingly dedicated act in the lead. Friendships and father-daughter relationships have rarely been as weird, but both speak profoundly.

8. Footnote (Joseph Cedar)

I had extremely low expectations going into this film, which was a second choice at the time of the viewing, due to some bad buzz from critics I respect. Yet I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. Cedar’s gripping, transcendent, deeply moral movie about the nature of winning features an excellent performance from Lior Ashkenazi and a screenplay that should win more than just a prize at Cannes. I found the stakes to be very high (the relationship of a father and a son is hardly inconsequential), and the ending shot as haunting as anything I’ve seen this year.

7. Beginners (Mike Mills)

Attacked for being too cutesy, I found it to be sweet and loved it in all of its radiant, blissful, and tragic turns. Mills strikes a superb balance between these different modes. Ewan McGregor, Melanie Laurent, Mary Page Keller, and especially Christopher Plummer are an ensemble to be reckoned with, but they’re not the only ones: the supporting cast is startlingly good as well. I’m sad that I haven’t had time yet to see it again.

6. Into the Abyss (Werner Herzog)

What do you want from a Herzog documentary? You might not be totally satisfied with “Into the Abyss” if you’re looking for the usual Herzog personality, though there are some of his hallmarks. He’s reined in many of his quirks here to deliver some of the most potent moments of his career. Taking apart a Texas town, he closely examines a continuing history of felony that doesn’t look to be ending anytime soon. Not only is “Into the Abyss” wrenching with its intense personal scenes, it’s also an exceptional example of pristine nonfiction craft, beautifully assembled. It’s easily his best film in some time and a strong work of emotional, empathetic, precise journalism.

5. Shame (Steve McQueen)

One of my most anticipated films of the year when I saw it at Telluride, and for me and many other critics at that festival and Venice, it did not disappoint. However, once it hit Toronto (after buzz had started to build), things changed; many of the Twitter tastemakers who are now championing “Margaret” as a cinematic messiah bared their teeth. The film was turned very fast from a superb follow-up to an overhyped piece of Oscar-bait. Now the film isn’t really taken seriously anymore (see the Film Comment and New Yorker reviews, which, due to a quirk of release, both tackily compared it to Julia Leigh’s “Sleeping Beauty”), and I doubt McQueen’s future films will be seen in the same light.

Admittedly, I’m developing apologist tendencies for McQueen, but it must be said that the man is making unique, powerful, atmospheric, artistically sound works about intensely interesting subjects. Though “Shame” appears to be more domesticated due to its urban setting, it’s as alive as “Hunger” was, even as it follows a man falling deeper and deeper into himself. And even though certain parts are vague (which, as I see it, is intended), I doubt many filmmakers working today could make a film with the candor of “Shame,” with regards to both relationships (familial and otherwise) and sex. Oh yeah, and Michael Fassbender and Carey Mulligan and Nicole Beharie are all astonishing. I have some quibbles about a certain scene (cited by Ignatiy Vishnevetsky and Blake Williams as well) that has some weird connotations, but otherwise, this really isn’t a movie to just toss out. Just like McQueen isn’t a director to just forget about.

4. The Turin Horse (Bela Tarr)

Black and white movies to me provide many of the most memorable and often times excruciating film experiences. “The Turin Horse,” perhaps Tarr’s final film, may eventually come to be seen as the king of the relentlessly colorless. Due to brilliant means of evocation (wonderful sound design, dulling cinematography), the uncompromising director gets his point across and does so while leaving many behind. Definitely not recommended as entertainment (as it serves a similar purpose to “Jeanne Dielman,” a title wisely invoked by Mike D’Angelo that used many of the devices “Turin” does), but as a valuable film that invades viewers and throws them into the windblown environment of its characters.

3. Outbound (Bogdan George Apetri)

It’s hard to understand the lack of distributors chomping at the bit for this formal masterwork. Attention must be allotted to it. Working from an albeit formulaic idea (there were at least a couple of other movies using the same race-against-time device at New Directors/New Films, where I saw it), Apetri employs his incredible craft and tension-building skills to create the year’s strongest, most despairing thriller. I hope this isn’t the last from this amazingly talented director, though his future efforts have much to surpass.

2. Nostalgia for the Light (Patricio Guzman)

Guzman’s extraordinary, revelatory exploration of the human and solar galaxies deserves inclusion in the short list of significant documentaries (like “Waltz With Bashir”) to sit alongside “Shoah” in the canon of remembrance cinema. Among patrons of the independent, this got some attention, but, due to a number of factors (including time of release), it received nowhere near the reverence that it truly commands.

1. The Tree of Life (Terrence Malick)

I don’t think it’s perfect. I can understand some of the arguments against it. But I couldn’t possibly ignore “The Tree of Life”’s unprecedented achievement and the overwhelming feelings of wonder it inspired in me. The bar was set so, so high, and, even if he didn’t satisfy everyone, Malick surely delivered, in that he created a work of historic technical virtuosity and ambition. A film that could have died out as a little project called “Q” but instead came bursting to the best sort of life possible.

A more proper (w/r/t US release dates) Top ten list might look like:

1. The Tree of Life (Terrence Malick)

2. Nostalgia for the Light (Patricio Guzman)

[Certified Copy (Abbas Kiarostami)]

3. Shame (Steve McQueen)

4. Into the Abyss (Werner Herzog)

5. Beginners (Mike Mills)

6. Weekend (Andrew Haigh)

7. A Separation (Asghar Farhadi)

8. The Myth of the American Sleepover (David Robert Mitchell)

9. Cold Weather (Aaron Katz)

10. Heartbeats (Xavier Dolan)

Best performances of the year coming at later date.

Telluride 2011, Day 3: Target; Shame; We Need to Talk About Kevin

Telluride '11 was still vibrant today, but the atmosphere could be felt slowly diminishing. I was hoping for the festival to continue to deliver indispensable cinema, and, in one case, it did. But my expectations for two of the three films I saw today weren't met, and I can now reflect that, while it has been quite a strong festival (as everyone has been saying), the programming hasn't been unimpeachable. (It is better than last year's NYFF, though, it must be said.)

I was surprised (but very happy) to see Alexander Zeldovich's "Target" among the official selection of Telluride this year. It seemed like a pretty gutsy move, a welcome push of the usual limits of the lineup, and, as a result, a lot of intrigue was created. I don't think that many people have liked the film that much, however, and it's easy to see why. The film takes a potentially gripping idea into pretty disturbing territory, leading to scenes that are embarrassing, disgusting, and deeply unnerving.

Since the film is about people who go to a radiated place to seek a solution to their problems (more specifically, to stop themselves from physically getting older), I was expecting something near Andrei Tarkovsky's provocative, humanist "Stalker." Zeldovich's movie plays as if Tarkovsky's work were transported into the future and remade by David Cronenberg and Richard Kelly. Instead of a more sensitive examination of this concept, Zeldovich has his characters go overboard with sexuality and violence. I know, as a fellow moviegoer informed me, this is a possible and not often used way of illustrating what could go wrong. My interest got detached somewhere along the way, as affairs take place and the plot devolves into moments of insanity. Though the film has some interesting flourishes in portraying a slightly dystopian future (immigrants are hunted as game and the freeways are full of trailers and nothing else) and a fun character who is talented at talking really fast, I often found what I was watching ridiculous. I know I've misunderstood this movie (a post-film discussion showed me how I went wrong). But to me it was tiresome and troubling in ways I couldn't quite get over. I'm not too keen on having a second viewing, though I doubt I'll ever get one, seeing as though distributors wouldn't have a fun time trying to get people to give it a go. C

Speaking of distributors, I saw representatives from various companies at the day's next film, which, judging from the packed house, seemed to be the most anticipated film of many people (it was mine). It'll be an easier sell than "Target," for sure. But there may still be some logistical issues getting it into a theater without passing on an MPAA rating. This was Steve McQueen's emotionally frank, graphically sexual "Shame." Though I don't think it quite tops his previous movie "Hunger," and though towards the beginning it's a little oblique, it's good enough to establish McQueen as one of the best directors of his generation.

This is especially because he is able to get such good work out of two actors that don't get used to their full potential in other hands. Michael Fassbender and Carey Mulligan are unquestionably better here than they've ever been before. It's also because he always finds art in the places in which he sets his films (using his extraordinary DP Sean Bobbit). Whereas "Hunger" was all filthy prison cells and urine-stained halls, "Shame" is full of the sleek windows and mirrors of offices and apartments. Brandon (Fassbender) sees himself divided as if by panes from the rest of humanity. He copulates and masturbates often, but always connects only on a physical level, unable to have a serious relationship and doomed forever to a shady private existence.

One day, coming home, he finds his sister Sissy (Mulligan, who alternates effectively between piercing and irritating) unexpectedly bathing in his apartment, although she insists she's called many times. Though she's a captivating singer (as one scene rather uncomfortably shows us), she has nowhere to stay. He reluctantly allows her to crash, though conflict is always around the corner. She comes to discover his erotic tendencies, and it only piles on the shame that Brandon has already been feeling. Also overwhelming him is his attempt at a serious relationship with a woman from work named Marianne (Nicole Beharie), the only time that we can see that he's ever been nervous around a sexual partner. The chemistry between Fassbender and Beharie is remarkable, especially considering the fact that McQueen often chooses to not cut away from their interactions and thus forces them to carry on their bantering with feeling for minutes at a time. The brilliant screenplay by McQueen and Abi Morgan fuels these conversations as well as the confrontations between Brandon and Sissy, giving the actors excellent material, making Brandon not the only character struggling with morality (take a look at his boss), and bringing the film to a perfectly chosen close.

I wish the film, McQueen, and Fassbender (best performance of the year, possibly) the best of luck at Venice when it comes to awards. "Shame" marshals great insight and discomfort, portraying a man who is unable to satisfy himself in any way, continuing to try certain methods, though, even as he pushes farther away from society and digs himself deeper and deeper into a hole, not seeing that guilt won't solve everything. A-

I caught a tribute to Tilda Swinton today, as well, my second of the fest (after the George Clooney one yesterday). Affixed to the end of it was Lynne Ramsay's "We Need to Talk About Kevin." Honestly, I don't understand exactly why this film was made. Adapted by Ramsay and Rory Kinnear from a book by Lionel Shriver, it shows a despicable character doing and saying horrible things, and provides really no explanation for this. It left me feeling very, very sad, especially since it has tapioca pacing and since it never for more than about 30 seconds alleviates its grueling tone. It eventually becomes just a string of bad events, so exasperatingly predictable you have to wonder why Ramsay didn't take a different path.

Swinton supplies a good acting job that goes sadly underutilized as Eva, the mother of the titular character (Ezra Miller), who takes a bow and arrow to school and attacks many students. We don't find this out until towards the end, as the film is scrambled (an approach taken in a similar way by its predecessor, Gus Van Sant's "Elephant"; Ramsay uses a visceral variation that ends up as one of the film's minor high points, even if she stumbles with it later on), dipping back from Eva's depressed present to moments that ended up defining her life. Kevin's motives are supposedly examined, though it just seems that he's pissed off that he exists and takes every opportunity to get back at his mother for bringing him into the world. I say this because he cried profusely as a baby and seemed to have been already resistant to Eva's child-rearing techniques. He does take a liking to his father, Franklin (John C. Reilly), but ultimately it appears to have been only to find another way to emotionally abuse his mother. It's painful to sit through this film, even if it has a couple of merits. I think Ramsay needed to have a talk herself about whether this movie was necessary to make. D+