11 Best Films of 2011, Part 2.
Continuing from yesterday, here are the top five films of 2011. I’d previously written extensive reviews for three of them on this blog before, and have provided links accordingly.
5) Senna, Asif Kapadia, United Kingdom.
Senna is one of those rare films where everyone - regardless of income, beliefs or politics, will find something poignant to relate to. Seems odd that a documentary about a Formula 1 racing driver would do that, but such is the beauty of Asif Kapadia’s meticulously assembled film. As a science geek the almost Asimov-ian battle between man and machine fascinated me most, as new racing technologies competed with Ayrton Senna’s catlike driving instincts. As Senna gave way to the new technologies, his instinct was compromised. It’s the classic tale of false idols of science and technology overriding the great computer of man’s brain (so beautifully told before in films like Godzilla and Kieslowski’s Dekalog 1:I Am the Lord Our God). Senna is also a showcase of film editing - drawing upon hundreds (if not thousands) of hours of archived Senna footage, Kapadia assembles the film into a pulse-pounding narrative that can compete with any big-budget spectacle, and the roar of Senna’s Ferrari puts us firmly in the true third dimension of cinema. Essential.
Read my full review here.
4) Another Earth, Mike Cahill, United States.
Made for $200k and featuring a true star in the making in actress Brit Marling, Mike Cahill’s Another Earth breathed new life into the tired science fiction genre which had been beat down with technical abandon. Another Earth returns us to the fundamentals of story and high concept, and uses performance to convince us of the scientific phenomenon. Marling’s bold conviction of guilt and purpose lets us easily buy into the premise of a Second Earth hovering in the sky, and the possibility of a doppelganger of ourselves that can live a life free of the mistakes we make. The film is methodical and extremely sensitive, and plays effortlessly. An absolute knockout.
Read my full review here.
3) Tree of Life, Terrence Malick, United States.
Not since Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey has the cosmology of our world been so thoroughly dissected. Where Kubrick’s scalpel was cold and didactic, Terrence Malick, one of our greatest living directors, takes a far more holistic approach to discovering our birth and meaning as a species. The literal creation of the universe is couched within the retelling of a childhood, the relationship between a father and a son echoing the relationship between the creator and it’s offspring. The bookending of a spectral vapor suggests a spirit that we might call God, but it is something far bigger than us to comprehend. It is here where Malick submits to the mystery of our existence, and he leaves us with a question of where we belong in this massive, infinite construct. The is also the most beautifully photographed film of the year, as Emmanuel Lubezki drenches the screen in warmth, color and bokeh. A transcendent experience, and one worthy of our time and patience.
Read my full review here.
2) The Interrupters, Steve James, United States.
If there was one absolutely required film for all to watch, it would easily be the remarkable documentary The Interrupters. Masterfully directed by Steve James (Hoop Dreams), The Interrupters gives us the harrowing and extremely dangerous profession of being a Violence Interrupter, a mediator intended to place themselves in the crux of a situation and diffuse it before it turns into violence. Set in the South Side of Chicago, the film follows the stories of several violence interrupters, who selflessly commit themselves to ridding their streets of needless crime and homicide.
This film is ruthlessly intense, as James’ camera is given access to a world that can explode at the drop at a pin. The mortality of both the interrupters and their clients is always hanging by a thread, and some interrupters do fall to the violence, unable to diffuse it in time. It is believed that most violence happens approximately fifteen to twenty minutes after an inciting incident, which can be anything - a guy talks to another guy’s girl, someone gets bumped, etc. - most of this stemming from the ideologies of respect and command. The term “dignity over death” is frequently used as justification for violent retribution.
The violence interrupters themselves are fascinating case studies, as they all hail from histories of violence and gangs themselves. Seeking a better life entails them giving back to their communities, sometimes as a form of penance and others as a sense of duty to their roots. We can’t help but admire and support these people, people who do not pretend to be perfect, are flawed and susceptible to emotions just like anyone else, but who ultimately place the welfare of others over themselves. The Interrupters is a portrait of selflessness, of holding on to a sliver of faith in humanity’s ability to rehabilitate and be kind. In our age of deep cynicism and hatred, we have to see that there are real people out there making a difference.
This is a documentary that also highlights our tendency to look the other way. As a resident of Chicago I was opened up to a entirely different world that is in my very own backyard. When it comes to violence and poverty our first choice these days is to look the other way - to move to the suburbs, to simply avoid a problem rather than address it. The Interrupters is a likewise call to action, as the violence interrupters themselves are not poor people - they have rehabilitated their lives and have moved their families to safety, and yet they never run away from the problems that infect their communities and culture. It is a sobering message, and one that resonates deeply within our collective responsibility to one another.
Lastly, it is worth noting that like his Hoop Dreams, Steve James was once again snubbed by the Academy Awards for a Best Documentary, as the Academy has leaned towards lighter fare. I call travesty, but it doesn’t change the importance of the film. Please support the wider release of the film by going to the film’s website and following their respective social media pages. It’s worth it.
1) Take Shelter, Jeff Nichols, United States.
I went to go see Jeff Nichols’ Take Shelter a long time ago because several of my crew from Lilith worked on his film, and they kept telling me during the shoot that Take Shelter was an immensely special work of art. I went into the theater eager to see my colleagues’ work, and I came out profoundly changed and moved.
Capturing the zeitgeist is that most difficult of tasks, and trying to capture the dark side of it - convincingly - requires tremendous humility and compassion. We find both in Take Shelter, the story of a man haunted by visions of an impending environmental apocalypse. Supported by ferocious, Oscar-worthy performances by Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain, Take Shelter gives us a modern take on the classic Noah’s Ark story, as a man, perceived to be driven by madness, builds a formidable storm shelter in his backyard. The shelter is built at great expense, both financially and personally, as the project puts a strain upon the man’s fiscal resources and pushes his relationship with his family and friends to the brink. As a parable the film works on many levels - the environmental warnings are clear, as shots oil raining from the sky and men pillaging the Earth for resources is shown throughout. We are murdering the Earth. But also too is the parable of paranoia, driven by the fragile balance of our current state of economy. People are living on a razor’s edge in terms of their finances, and the loss of a job, illness or injury can turn a person’s life into a tailspin.
It is widely accepted that in the United States, one of the key events that can put a family into financial ruin is a medical emergency, and too often people rely upon the privatized health insurance provided by employers to keep afloat. In this economy, there is no such guarantee of employment or benefits, and to live with an illness and be financially tenuous can lead any well-intentioned person into absolute ruin. Take Shelter leads us on that journey of paranoia and fear, and it is a supernatural phenomena that strikes all too close to home. The movie is slow and methodical, but it refuses to let go. It still sticks with me to this day, and few films can do that, which is why I am calling it the very best film of the year.
