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Films of 2006by Erik McClanahan
2006 was a strong year for film. Diversity is the word that comes to mind when I think about this year’s slate of releases. Diversity in filmmaking styles, genres, narrative technique and performances. This melting pot effect of filmmaking is a welcome one, as this year saw what could be the beginning of the neo-Spanish new wave led by the triptych of fantastically gifted filmmakers Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, Guillermo del Toro and Alfonso Cuaron. The latter two director’s films made a huge impression on me as a moviegoer, and appear on the following list. Inarritu’s Babel, though, was an ambitious and noteworthy film that just didn’t affect me like the director’s previous, more focused efforts Amores Perros (his true masterpiece in my opinion) and 21 Grams. There is no denying Inarritu’s talent as a filmmaker—just look at the club scene in Babel, where the camera and sound simultaneously bring us inside the head of deaf, sexually curious teenager Chieko (played wonderfully by Oscar nominated Rinko Kikuchi) and inside the noisy, drugged atmosphere of a rave. Babel also represents another alarming trend in film this year: the over-hyping and showering of awards to films that are good, but not great, and made by filmmakers who’ve done much better work. Besides the aforementioned Babel, other films treated so lovingly amongst critics this year include Clint Eastwood’s double feature Flags of our Fathers and Letters from Iwo Jima. Is it just me, or do nearly all high-profile critics feel it is their duty to love Eastwood. The man is a great director, I agree, but both these WWII films were minor in their importance to the films of 2006. Another film that had me scratching my head was the nearly unanimous affection for Stephen Frears’ The Queen. The film, while both interesting and intelligently-made, was nothing spectacular even with Helen Mirren’s transformational, strong turn as Queen Elizabeth II. Lastly, my choice as the most overrated film of the year would have to be Casino Royale. That’s not to say it wasn’t one of the Bond franchises’ best entries - it was. Daniel Craig was also fantastic as a new mold of the popular spy (something I thought he’d do well in after seeing Layer Cake). I know many of my fellow writers on this site will disagree, but it was just ok. Too much time was spent on the card game, and the stunts, while awe-inspiring, were a little over-the-top. The opening chase felt like it lasted 20 minutes, and I couldn’t help but compare it to Family Guy’s everlasting duel between Peter Griffin and the chicken. I will admit that I’ve never been that into the whole Bond thing, and perhaps it just wasn’t for me. How disappointed can I be, though, when I get to look at the startlingly beautiful Eva Green (who made a great Bond girl) for more than two hours? Another interesting trend that occurred (and has happened before) is the always perplexing two movies dealing with similar subjects that are released in the same year phenomenon. This year it was 9/11 stories and twisty plots dealing with turn-of-the-century magicians. The interesting thing about this year’s trend that separates it from other years with similar releases (like 1998’s battle between Antz & A Bug’s Life, or Armageddon & Deep Impact) is that whichever film one likes more out of the two shows a lot about that person’s overall taste in film. United 93 is for the more seasoned filmgoer, challenging and made without any bias, it is a wonderful piece of journalistic, verite filmmaking. World Trade Center was a film geared more toward the mass audience, with accessible themes and a story that inspires more than depresses. Similar connections can be made by those who loved The Prestige over The Illusionist. Prestige was for the movie fanatics, while the Illusionist was for the average moviegoer. Even if you liked all these films, I bet you especially liked one 9/11 film more than the other, and the same goes for the magician films. As far as my movie going tastes are concerned, 2006 will be remembered as the year when intelligence perhaps caught up with technology. Filmmakers are using the advancements of digital technology (and everything that brings to the table as far as getting your vision on film) and using for the benefit of the story. The films I loved this year were those I couldn’t get out of my head, and brought something memorable and different to the medium. 10. A Scanner Darkly (written and directed by Richard Linklater)
The most subversive summer film released in quite sometime. Writer/director Richard Linklater (Slackers, Dazed and Confused, Before Sunrise) returns to the rotoscoping animation that he used to great effect in 2001’s strange, acid-tinged philosophical trip of a movie Waking Life. The animation looks much better in Scanner, and this time Linklater actually tells a coherent story. A faithful adaptation of Philip K. Dick’s story of the same name and perhaps the best screen translation of any of the highly-regarded science fiction writer’s novels and short stories (Blade Runner, Minority Report and Total Recall also come to mind, though), A Scanner Darkly perfectly captures America in a future where the government has lost the war on drugs. The film can be confusing at first, but hang in there and you will be rewarded with a supremely satisfying twist ending. The film’s strongest suit is its brave casting choices: Keanu Reeves has never been better (this is not a typo, I assure you). Who else could play a guy with two brain cells left in his head (due to a nasty drug addiction to the film’s fictional Substance D) better than Reeves? Woody Harrelson, Rory Cochrane and Robert Downey, Jr. put forth hilarious efforts as drug-addled losers, and Winona Ryder puts herself back on the acting map with a deft turn as a girl who isn’t exactly what she seems. A Scanner Darkly is an exciting, unique and brilliant animated cinema experience. 9. Dave Chappelle’s Block Party (written by Dave Chappelle, directed by Michel Gondry) Bold statement: Dave Chappelle is a genius. And to borrow a phrase the comedian often uses: That’s right I said it. No other film this year made me feel as good to be alive (and isn’t that part of what great art can do?). This film is a showcase not only for his comedic talent and prowess, but also for his knowledge of great music—primarily hip-hop and rap music. It is nothing more than a documentary following Chappelle around his home town in Dayton, Ohio as he gives tickets away to the townspeople, and the subsequent concert that took place in a slum in Brooklyn. The entire concert was set up by Chappelle, saying early in the film that “this is the concert I always wanted to see!” Directed by the brilliant Michel Gondry (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Science of Sleep) with immediacy and honesty, the film is so much fun that you may find yourself wanting to dance throughout its entire 103 minute running time. With great performances by Kanye West (singing his brilliant “Jesus Walks” with a marching band), The Roots (the most innovative rap group ever, led by drummer ?uestlove who performs the entire concert and speaks throughout the film), and the Fugees (who reunited for this movie). There is a funny line that Chappelle says about midway through the film regarding music and comedy: “I’m mediocre at both and yet have managed to talk my way into a fortune.” I have to disagree with Mr. Chappelle on that line, though. 8. Brick (written and directed by Rian Johnson) Brick is the best American feature debut since Richard Kelly’s Donnie Darko. The film manages to grab your attention immediately and rarely lets loose its strong grip on the imagination. This is a crowning independent work of an inspired, first time American writer/director. Brick is the kind of film that creates its own world, one that is slightly off-kilter and stylized in such a way that it seems completely unique, but somehow remains rooted in a sense of reality. Watching this kind of film is a rewarding experience when done well (as it is here) as any movie fan loves to escape into a world not like the one we all live in. Johnson was clearly inspired by the works of writer Dashiell Hammett, whose “hard-boiled” detective novels of the 20s and 30s included The Maltese Falcon. The setting is San Clemente High School, where the students amass in cliques that are more interested in drug-dealing, violence and the like than in going to senior prom. The world of movie high schools has never been so cool and darkly disturbing as it is here. With countless memorable characters (with names like the Pin, Tug, Brain,etc.), unforgettable dialogue, and a twist-filled, whodunit plot that never slows down right up to the final minutes, Brick is a film that’s destined to be appreciated by cinephiles from the start, and later discovered through word-of-mouth. This is what independent moviemaking is all about: low-budget, do-it-yourself (apparently Johnson edited the entire film on his home computer using digital filmmaking) that looks and sounds better than most big-budget movies we’re spoon-fed at the multiplex these days. 7. The Fountain (written by Darren Aronofsky and Ari Handel, directed by Darren Aronofsky)
Six years in the making, Darren Aronofsky’s The Fountain was considered by many a failure. I couldn’t disagree more. I can’t think of a more obvious film destined to become a cult science fiction classic than this. Easily the most beautiful film of the year to look at and listen to, The Fountain may have turned off moviegoers who thought it was too complex. In reality, it is quite a simple story. Incredibly moving and tragic, it’s about losing a loved one, and making the most out of your time together in this world. At one time thought to be a dead project, Aronofsky couldn’t get the film out of his head—a love story that spans three different timelines and involves the search for the tree of life—and instead whittled the film down to its core with half the budget. He also wrote an accompanying graphic novel of the same name with amazing illustrations by Kent Williams that does fill in some of the story gaps in the film, but essentially is another medium to view a beautiful story. Aronofsky worked with his usual collaborators: virtuoso cinematographer Matthew Libatique, editor Jay Rabinowitz and composer Clint Mansell (again with the Kronos Quartet). At a time when most movies are pre-packaged, soulless marketing machines, it’s a pleasure to see a true visionary create a passion project like this. 6. The Proposition (written by Nick Cave, directed by John Hillcoat) Great - even good - westerns are few and far between these days. Except for HBO’s "Deadwood", the genre has been in a state of decline for a decade, with the last notable entry being Clint Eastwood’s masterpiece, Unforgiven. The Proposition is the new great western. Unflinching in its realism and brutality, it is a fantastic film on all levels, not just meeting genre specifications. To see a full review of The Proposition, click here 5. The Prestige (written by Jonathan and Christopher Nolan, directed by Christopher Nolan) Christopher Nolan is fast becoming THE director of this generation. With The Prestige, he made the kind of dark, serious popcorn film that M. Night Shyamalan wishes he could make. Shyamalan has faltered recently in his quest to be the new Spielberg or Hitchcock or what have you. Nolan seems to be getting better with every new film. His films carry an intelligence befitting the man himself. Watching Nolan in an interview gives all the evidence one needs to understand how he has managed to make such great films. He is so damn smart and aware of his audience’s expectations that he will inevitably have a prolific filmmaking career. Forget that, he already has a prolific career: Following, Memento, Insomnia and Batman Begins are all great films in their own way, with The Prestige only adding to Nolan’s flawless CV. The performances are spot on, with Bale displaying the best acting chops in the bunch. This is the kind of role coupled with his turn as Batman/Bruce Wayne that will make Bale a star. As with every Nolan film, the cinematography is stylish but beautiful, the music is atmospheric, and the sound and understated special effects are near perfect. Some of the film’s much talked about plot twists may seem predictable, but I think that is the point here. Nolan wants us to know that illusions are made up of simple explanations. See if you can guess all the twists and turns. If you do, it will not ruin the experience of the film at all. The Prestige is truly about filmmaking, and what that means to Christopher Nolan. The entire film can be viewed as a metaphor for the director’s desire to reinvent himself with every film, and to try to give the audience something they’ve never seen. This makes the film a truly personal achievement, something rarely seen these days in mainstream cinema entertainments. You can see both of the main characters in Nolan. Part of him wants to be the great showman Angier is, but deep down he is the talented magician Borden, living his art and trying to give us something new to scratch our heads over. 4. Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan (written by Sacha Baron Cohen, Anthony Hines, Peter Baynham, Dan Mezer and Todd Phillips, directed by Larry Charles) George Carlin was once quoted: “I think it's the duty of the comedian to find out where the line is drawn and cross it deliberately.” I couldn’t agree more. Comedians should always be trying to take the next step forward. Reinvention of what we find funny as a culture may be the most difficult thing to achieve in the movies. It’s a toss-up between that or actually scaring an audience these days. Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan (a ridiculously long, but all too appropriate title that is only one word short of being the longest titled film of all time behind Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove) is a milestone in the annals of film comedy. Sacha Baron Cohen (who created and stars as Borat) has taken what we consider funny, offensive, repulsive, sacred, ridiculous, and embarrassing about our culture, thrown it in a blender, flipped the on switch and spewed out a completely original comedy the likes America has never seen. I’m reminded of a scene in The Prestige, when Christian Bale’s character says a rather poignant piece of dialogue: “A real magician tries to invent something new, that other magicians are gonna scratch their heads over.” The relevancy of this statement struck a chord with me when I saw that wonderful film, but after seeing Borat I couldn’t help but be astounded by the way it describes the work of a true comedian. Cohen has successfully invented something new: a new genre, satire, fake documentary and pure comedic entertainment all rolled up into one side-splitting, 84-minute ride. Every scene is hilarious. There’s never a point in the film where Cohen’s shtick wears thin. Instead, the film gets more ridiculous and funny. Borat is going to change film comedy as we know it. How the academy looked past Cohen for a best actor nomination is beside me, not that it ultimately matters. The film will always be remembered, and that’s the important thing. 3. Pan’s Labyrinth (written and directed by Guillermo del Toro)
I haven’t seen a film that balanced images of macabre horror with subtle prettiness quite like this film achieves. A fantasy that is more for adults than kids, Pan’s Labyrinth is an amazing film experience that should be seen by anyone who loves getting lost in cinema. Guillermo del Toro has shown that he has talent in lesser, more accessible fare like Blade 2 and Hellboy, but he’s never really made a film like this (although I’ve heard that his other Spanish-language films Cronos and The Devil’s Backbone—both of which are now sitting at the top of my Netflix queue—are more along the lines of Pan’s Labyrinth then his more commercial stuff). The protagonist of the film is Ofelia, who is being brought to her stepfather’s house in Northern Spain circa 1944, after Franco’s victory and also at the height of post-war fascist repression. Ofelia loves fantasy stories, and she becomes involved in her own fable when she visits the labyrinth in the house’s backyard. There she meets Pan (the incomparable Doug Jones), a faun (nothing like those lame creatures we saw in The Chronicles of Narnia) who prophesizes that she is the descendant of a lost princess, and must go back to her people by completing three tasks. This storyline is brilliantly contrasted by the rebellion against Ofelia’s father, Captain Vidal (played with ferocity and realistic horror by Sergi Lopez). Vidal is the nastiest screen villain in quite some time. He is pure evil, and completely memorable. Del Toro does such a great job of enchanting the audience by not overusing special effects, but instead using technology to tell the story. The three tasks culminate with the best third act in a film this year. The final 20 minutes are astonishing. Throughout the film’s briskly-paced narrative, I kept hoping that it wouldn’t be ruined in the end. What I got was an ending that made the entire film better, with a theme (dealing with death in the family) that was brought to such a satisfying conclusion it brought me to tears. 2. The Departed (written by William Monahan, directed by Martin Scorsese) Is this the film that will finally bag Scorsese his long overdue Oscar? We’ll find out soon, but nonetheless, this is a great movie. Definitely the most entertaining piece of work this year, and a great return to form for one of the best filmmakers of all time. For my full review and essay on The Departed, click here 1. Children of Men (written by Alfonso Cuaron, Timothy J. Sexton, David Arata, Mark Fergus and Hawk Ostby directed by Alfonso Cuaron)
Alfonso Cuaron is my new favorite filmmaker. After Children of Men—with its epic one-take scenes that dazzle and astound with their technical, visceral brilliance—I declare Cuaron to be the newest rock star filmmaker, that rare occurrence when a filmmaker becomes a star, and can sell their art to a built-in audience that will see anything said artist creates. If Cuaron made a movie about paint drying I would be the first in line on opening day. He is undeniably talented and ballsy, never treading water in the same genre pool but instead venturing into different territory with every film. From Great Expectations to Y Tu Mama Tambien; Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban to Children of Men, the man has already explored a lot in his short career. Set in Britain in the year 2027, where woman are now infertile, main character Theo (the intensely understated Clive Owen) is adrift in a world of chaos. The opening prologue sucks the audience into this harrowingly realistic future world: the camera opens on Theo as he grabs a cup of coffee. Many people are standing by watching the news as it is announced that the world’s youngest man has now died. Everyone looks frightened, except for Theo. As he walks out of the shop the camera follows, always staying focused on the characters involved in the story. And then a bomb goes off not thirty seconds after Theo left, completely destroying the shop. Cut to a women walking out with her arm blown off, and you now know the cinematic language Cuaron will use the rest of the film. Cut to title card: Children of Men. The brilliance of the film is that you are thrown in to the situation with little time to catch up, and I’ve never been so completely glued to my seat to see how a film was going to end, entranced by the filmmaking skill and spell that Cuaron puts on the audience throughout the entire 109 minute running time. Cuaron makes the camera a living character as it follows Theo through battlefields and other amazing set pieces. This a smart, futuristic science fiction film because it doesn’t feel unrealistic. Everything is in your face, immediate, and all too real. This is exciting filmmaking, and the best example of a gifted filmmaker making use of technology available to him to tell an unbelievable story. This may be THE film of the young 21st century thus far. HONORABLE MENTION: NOTABLE FILMS I HAVEN’T SEEN YET:
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