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2003 Year in Review: Just Another Top Ten List
Daunted by the prospect of more cliché-heavy list making, MUBARAK ALI took the lead in presenting ten of the so-called best from 2003.
1. Spirited Away
Just when you think Miyazaki can't do any better, he delivers what is perhaps the best animated film since...well, his Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind. To use any further words to describe the experience of watching this film would be entirely ineffectual, so I'll refrain. (Hayao Miyazaki/JPN)
2. The Return of the King
A morbidly beautiful and an unexpectedly moving finale to one of the most passionate trilogies ever filmed, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King is easily the best of the three and is a hyperventilating reminder of why we go to the movies: to be transported to another world, to have the senses challenged and emotions overwhelmed. The overlong epilogue is forgiven; it may even be deemed necessary, for what precedes is stunningly operatic and tremendously frenzied. And yet, amidst all the fury, the intimate scenes are the ones that linger. (Peter Jackson/USA/NZ)
3. Kill Bill Vol. 1
A gorgeously violent mosaic of Tarantino's celluloid obsessions, Kill Bill is one of the most enjoyable films of the year. Not to be dismissed as merely an experiment in style by a post-modernist filmmaker, nor an over-indulgence in vindictive violence by a B-movie/Martial Arts geek, Kill Bill is more about capturing one's love for cinema on film and sharing it with the world, which is what makes the film so intensely personal. This film exists in its own universe, so why does it matter if characters talk like "I'm gonna kill you tonight, bitch" or "Leave your limbs behind. They belong to me now"? No, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Just the cool, intoxicating, nasty fun this film is. (Quentin Tarantino/USA)
4. Uzak
Of the few films I saw at this year's International Film Festival, this one stayed with me the longest. Contemplative and melancholic, the several long shots present in the film highlight the sprawling emotional isolation experienced by its two leads, a lonely intellectual who lives in the city and his visiting, agrestic cousin. The film's bleak-but-beautiful photography and the characters' emotional distance recall Tarkovsky and Kaurismäki, but Uzak is original enough to stand on its own. Ceylan also broods on boredom and the complexities of urban living, and in the process has fashioned a poignant study of contemporary loneliness. (Nuri Bilge Ceylan/TUR)
5. The Pianist
Although unusually polished for a Polanski film, the second half of the film especially, is scattered with classic Polanskian moments, such as an unkempt Szpilman (excellently played by Brody in all the subtleties the role demanded) forced to witness the death and destruction of Warsaw from a locked room (his psychological dissolution mirroring that of his surrounding). Polanski does not go the way of sentimentality nor a documentary, instead relying on a much more intimate and claustrophobic scale through Brody's performance. There is a beautiful scene of emotional release (for Szpilman and us) towards the end of the film when Szpilman gets to play Chopin's Ballade No. 1 on the piano, and it is an exceptionally moving moment of hope overcoming despair, and the pristine gratitude for life that lies therein. (Roman Polanski/EURO)
6. Morvern Callar
Here is a film that succeeds so brilliantly in trying to capture a period of internal changeover in a woman, initiated here by the suicide of her boyfriend, and it can only be further admired because it does so sans a plot and the conventional arcs of character development. The film is rapturously photographed (consider the lyrical, near-silent opening, or the bright yellow hues of a vacation in Spain) and the soundtrack is pulsating and hypnotic (featuring Aphex Twin, Boards of Canada, The Velvet Underground), both key elements in echoing Morvern's elliptical psyche. The film may be cool, perhaps even detached for some, but the very enigmatic nature of Morvern's 'mourning' drew me to her, and at the end, although we may not have her totally figured out, we're sure glad we tried. (Lynne Ramsay/UK)
7. Talk to Her
This sublime film is testament to Almodovar's graceful maturation into mastering his art. The sexual nature of his previous films is much subtler here and emotions are allowed to be expressed. And there are moments when they truly overwhelm. Despite stylistic differences from Fassbinder (Almodovar's films are decidedly more melodramatic and livelier), Talk To Her reminded me of him in that it gives its male protagonists feminine characteristics and places them in grand tragic circumstances that dictate their relationships. Almodovar's film also has a refreshingly bizarre inclusion: a short silent film that possibly stands in for a rape sequence. This is a film about many things – friendship, communication, hope and optimism, masculinity – but most of all it's about how these aspects help men achieve a certain clarity in love. (Pedro Almodovar/ESP)
8. Punch-Drunk Love
Not quite Magnolia, but PTA's latest is nearly as dizzying in the intensity its images appear on the screen. Adam Sandler's much-praised performance is surely his best work yet, but he may essentially be playing himself, an actor furious upon realisation of how he's perceived by his audience. This eccentric soul in Sandler is met by an equally eccentric Emily Watson. Not only are they a match made in cinematic heaven, but their union also provides the film with greater meaning beyond the loneliness and yearning in its first half, encompassing that of spiritual and emotional fulfilment. And this is all told in a kinetic, furious, hallucinogenic style (equate this entire film to the frog rain sequence at the end of Magnolia). Yet Punch-Drunk Love remains a love story at its heart and it is an unforgettable, utterly original one. (Paul Thomas Anderson/USA)
9. Irréversible
Noé plays with audience expectations in this revenge film by showing the revenge before showing the motivation behind it and in this sense becomes a disturbing portrait of cinematic violence and the active role the audience plays through their expectations and responses, similar to Haneke's Funny Games and Peckinpah's Straw Dogs. As the non-chronological narrative goes back to show us the sensitive relationship the Vincent Cassell and Monica Belluci characters had before her brutal rape, the film attains a weighty emotional resonance as we realise the transient nature of happiness. And it is almost as draining as the violence that came before it. (Gaspar Noé/FRA)
10. Russian Ark
Sokurov's dreamlike single-take is stunning in its execution and oddly depressing in its impact. Odd because I don't pretend to know much about Russian art and history but the film nevertheless suffused me with an undeniable feeling of loss and nostalgia. The ghost behind the camera (the haunting voice of Leonid Mozgovoy) and the French diplomat who accompanies him through the Hermitage Museum both witness Russian history unfolding before their very eyes as they move from room to room with wistful fluidity. The elegant camerawork makes for some truly breathtaking moments, such as a walk through a snowy path or the stunning finale, a great ballroom waltz. This fascinating, trancelike film is meant to wash over the senses and it does just that and much more with rare grace. (Aleksandr Sokurov/RUS)
Honourable mentions:
Raising Victor Vargas (Sollett), Swimming Pool (Ozon), Spider (Cronenberg), American Splendor (Berman/Pulcini), Finding Nemo (Stanton/Unkrich).
See also:
» More Belated Top Tens
» Killing William etc.
1. Spirited Away
Just when you think Miyazaki can't do any better, he delivers what is perhaps the best animated film since...well, his Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind. To use any further words to describe the experience of watching this film would be entirely ineffectual, so I'll refrain. (Hayao Miyazaki/JPN)
2. The Return of the King
A morbidly beautiful and an unexpectedly moving finale to one of the most passionate trilogies ever filmed, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King is easily the best of the three and is a hyperventilating reminder of why we go to the movies: to be transported to another world, to have the senses challenged and emotions overwhelmed. The overlong epilogue is forgiven; it may even be deemed necessary, for what precedes is stunningly operatic and tremendously frenzied. And yet, amidst all the fury, the intimate scenes are the ones that linger. (Peter Jackson/USA/NZ)
3. Kill Bill Vol. 1
A gorgeously violent mosaic of Tarantino's celluloid obsessions, Kill Bill is one of the most enjoyable films of the year. Not to be dismissed as merely an experiment in style by a post-modernist filmmaker, nor an over-indulgence in vindictive violence by a B-movie/Martial Arts geek, Kill Bill is more about capturing one's love for cinema on film and sharing it with the world, which is what makes the film so intensely personal. This film exists in its own universe, so why does it matter if characters talk like "I'm gonna kill you tonight, bitch" or "Leave your limbs behind. They belong to me now"? No, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Just the cool, intoxicating, nasty fun this film is. (Quentin Tarantino/USA)
4. Uzak
Of the few films I saw at this year's International Film Festival, this one stayed with me the longest. Contemplative and melancholic, the several long shots present in the film highlight the sprawling emotional isolation experienced by its two leads, a lonely intellectual who lives in the city and his visiting, agrestic cousin. The film's bleak-but-beautiful photography and the characters' emotional distance recall Tarkovsky and Kaurismäki, but Uzak is original enough to stand on its own. Ceylan also broods on boredom and the complexities of urban living, and in the process has fashioned a poignant study of contemporary loneliness. (Nuri Bilge Ceylan/TUR)
5. The Pianist
Although unusually polished for a Polanski film, the second half of the film especially, is scattered with classic Polanskian moments, such as an unkempt Szpilman (excellently played by Brody in all the subtleties the role demanded) forced to witness the death and destruction of Warsaw from a locked room (his psychological dissolution mirroring that of his surrounding). Polanski does not go the way of sentimentality nor a documentary, instead relying on a much more intimate and claustrophobic scale through Brody's performance. There is a beautiful scene of emotional release (for Szpilman and us) towards the end of the film when Szpilman gets to play Chopin's Ballade No. 1 on the piano, and it is an exceptionally moving moment of hope overcoming despair, and the pristine gratitude for life that lies therein. (Roman Polanski/EURO)
6. Morvern Callar
Here is a film that succeeds so brilliantly in trying to capture a period of internal changeover in a woman, initiated here by the suicide of her boyfriend, and it can only be further admired because it does so sans a plot and the conventional arcs of character development. The film is rapturously photographed (consider the lyrical, near-silent opening, or the bright yellow hues of a vacation in Spain) and the soundtrack is pulsating and hypnotic (featuring Aphex Twin, Boards of Canada, The Velvet Underground), both key elements in echoing Morvern's elliptical psyche. The film may be cool, perhaps even detached for some, but the very enigmatic nature of Morvern's 'mourning' drew me to her, and at the end, although we may not have her totally figured out, we're sure glad we tried. (Lynne Ramsay/UK)
7. Talk to Her
This sublime film is testament to Almodovar's graceful maturation into mastering his art. The sexual nature of his previous films is much subtler here and emotions are allowed to be expressed. And there are moments when they truly overwhelm. Despite stylistic differences from Fassbinder (Almodovar's films are decidedly more melodramatic and livelier), Talk To Her reminded me of him in that it gives its male protagonists feminine characteristics and places them in grand tragic circumstances that dictate their relationships. Almodovar's film also has a refreshingly bizarre inclusion: a short silent film that possibly stands in for a rape sequence. This is a film about many things – friendship, communication, hope and optimism, masculinity – but most of all it's about how these aspects help men achieve a certain clarity in love. (Pedro Almodovar/ESP)
8. Punch-Drunk Love
Not quite Magnolia, but PTA's latest is nearly as dizzying in the intensity its images appear on the screen. Adam Sandler's much-praised performance is surely his best work yet, but he may essentially be playing himself, an actor furious upon realisation of how he's perceived by his audience. This eccentric soul in Sandler is met by an equally eccentric Emily Watson. Not only are they a match made in cinematic heaven, but their union also provides the film with greater meaning beyond the loneliness and yearning in its first half, encompassing that of spiritual and emotional fulfilment. And this is all told in a kinetic, furious, hallucinogenic style (equate this entire film to the frog rain sequence at the end of Magnolia). Yet Punch-Drunk Love remains a love story at its heart and it is an unforgettable, utterly original one. (Paul Thomas Anderson/USA)
9. Irréversible
Noé plays with audience expectations in this revenge film by showing the revenge before showing the motivation behind it and in this sense becomes a disturbing portrait of cinematic violence and the active role the audience plays through their expectations and responses, similar to Haneke's Funny Games and Peckinpah's Straw Dogs. As the non-chronological narrative goes back to show us the sensitive relationship the Vincent Cassell and Monica Belluci characters had before her brutal rape, the film attains a weighty emotional resonance as we realise the transient nature of happiness. And it is almost as draining as the violence that came before it. (Gaspar Noé/FRA)
10. Russian Ark
Sokurov's dreamlike single-take is stunning in its execution and oddly depressing in its impact. Odd because I don't pretend to know much about Russian art and history but the film nevertheless suffused me with an undeniable feeling of loss and nostalgia. The ghost behind the camera (the haunting voice of Leonid Mozgovoy) and the French diplomat who accompanies him through the Hermitage Museum both witness Russian history unfolding before their very eyes as they move from room to room with wistful fluidity. The elegant camerawork makes for some truly breathtaking moments, such as a walk through a snowy path or the stunning finale, a great ballroom waltz. This fascinating, trancelike film is meant to wash over the senses and it does just that and much more with rare grace. (Aleksandr Sokurov/RUS)
Honourable mentions:
Raising Victor Vargas (Sollett), Swimming Pool (Ozon), Spider (Cronenberg), American Splendor (Berman/Pulcini), Finding Nemo (Stanton/Unkrich).
See also:
» More Belated Top Tens
» Killing William etc.
