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Looking Closer's Thirty Favorite Films of 2005

Jeffrey's Year-end Musings and Top Thirty Favorites List

Copyright © 2006 by Jeffrey Overstreet.
Reproduction is forbidden without permission of the author.
Contact Jeffrey Overstreet at joverstreet@gmail.com.


 

2005 was even more difficult than 2004 for the moviegoers in search of things excellent, rewarding, worthy of praise. Most of the titles on my colleagues' top ten lists include movies that didn't even play widely in America... you had to go to international film festivals to see them. That's not unusual, really, but the lack of memorable American films this year was profoundly frustrating for those of us without the time and money to jet around to Toronto, Sundance, Venice, and Cannes.

Nevertheless, there were films playing in the States this year that made moviegoing worthwhile, even if you had to wade through a world of garbage to find them.

Here are 25 films that I'm glad I saw, and that I'll gladly see again.

Some of them contain harsh content that require I encourage viewers to proceed with extreme caution--they're too much for young viewers and too volatile for many adults as well. But I found them meaningful and redeeming in their truthful reflections about good and evil, as well as in their various aesthetic achievements.

PLEASE NOTE: Here are some 2005 titles I have not yet seen, any one of which could end up in my Top 25 once I've seen them. I've heard wonderful things about all of them:
Saraband
Hell
(based on Krzysztof Kieslowski's script)
Hawaii, Olso
Battle in Heaven
Un Couple parfait
The Death of Mr. Lazarescu
Pin Boy
The Wayward Cloud

 

JEFFREY'S 30 FAVORITE FILMS
OF 2005

Annual disclaimer:
It may seem arrogant for me to make such a big deal about MY picks of the year. It is, after all, just one man's opinion. But I'll be honest: it makes me feel better to have a place to share my recommendations. After all, most critics reward films merely for technical excellence or for audacity. The Oscars usually reward entertainment or politics rather than art, and their rules exclude many worthy films from overseas.

Art is about so much more than these aspects. It is about how all of the technical aspects support a vision, and how that vision communicates to us.

Most importantly, we must consider if what any given film offers us is truly meaningful, or if it is instead merely an expression of ego, or perhaps a cleverly packaged lie. I don't claim to have the authority to pronounce THE BEST FILM OF THE YEAR. But I can share which titles have proven most rewarding to me in repeated viewings, and which offer sustaining, inspiring, and revelatory visions.


 

1.
Millions

Moviegoers in search of real substance, real art, have been struggling to find any signs of life at the cinema this year. Going into Oscar season, I was relieved to see some weighty, artful, substantial films coming to the rescue. But the more I write about them, the more I realize that I have to qualify my recommendations with extreme caution. I admired them for their craft, but they didn't move my heart... at least, not as much as this inventive children's tale. I find myself recommending Millions to everyone I know. Each time I do, I want to see it again.

The story follows two young boys who recently lost their mother. As their father moves the family to a new home and a new start, the boys discover a suitcase packed with money nearby. The older boy decides to use the cash to become the coolest kid at school. But Damien is a child of deep faith and great ambition. He wants to use the money to save the world. He learns, much to his annoyance, that helping people is a complicated affair, especially when grownups get involved. I find his unrelenting optimism and his ability to believe in God's benevolence to be an inspiration in a cynical age.

It's not a flawless film  -- the spooky bad guy is a clunky cliché, and there's a particularly sentimental flourish about twenty minutes before the end. But the rest is bursting with creativity. Boyle brings the energy that made films like Trainspotting and 28 Days Later to a story of childlike wonder, imagination, compassion, and vibrant hope. It's fast, funny, colorful, well-acted, full of surprises, and the unexpected blastoff at the end is 2005's most exhilarating big screen finale.

And here's the best thing about it: It's rare to find a film this uplifting, this worthwhile, that you can watch with your grandparents, your kids, and your college pals, knowing that all of them will love it. Millions does the trick.

While many 2005 films were more challenging and sophisticated, none of them filled me with a zeal to save the world, and to enjoy doing it, the way this one did. I'll watch it again and again.

The DVD's been available for months. So what are you waiting for?

2.
Junebug

This is this year's The Station Agent for me. It's the one that got away... the great 2005 film that I didn't see until 2006. (And who knows, there may be more.)

It's a film about a sophisticated New York art dealer who goes to North Carolina to meet her boyfriend's traditional Christian family, and the culture clash is memorable and meaningful. Phil Morrison's film is crafted with a level of subtlety and honesty that can only be explained as love. 

People who found it to be a cruel caricature of the South must not be from the South. My wife was recognizing all kinds of things, from the pregnant silences to the nuances of conversation at baby showers to the throwaway comments loaded with meaning and even judgment. It had a powerfully emotional effect on her, drawing her back into a world that she both loved and reviled.

The characters are three-dimensional, believable, and compelling... a far cry from the tendency toward caricature we see in Alexander Payne or the Coen Brothers. Payne's films don't make me feel like he has much affection for his characters (although Sideways was a step in the right direction). And the Coens clearly have affection for their characters, but they also can't help but exaggerate everything to the point of Looney Toons. Morrison strikes just a balance that makes this world believable, real, and involving.

The portrayal of Southern-style American Christianity is honest and gracious. And I was deeply impressed by the complexity of the relationships. I never lived in the South, but I recognized that church body from my own upbringing in a similar church in Portland, Oregon. I think it's the most honest and gracious portrayal of American Christians on the screen since The Apostle.

Amy Adams is brilliant, and I hope she wins the Oscar. In fact, I think it's the only truly Oscar-worthy performance on the supporting actress list.

But I thought everyone was convincing. Even the eccentric Alessanrdro Nivola, who is sometimes so odd as to be distracted, creates a unique character with a conflicted heart who was fascinating to watch.

The slow pace of the film, the quiet moments in empty spaces... this felt like a real place, a real family, with real problems.

The screenwriters, the director, and the cast all demonstrate remarkable restraint throughout, giving us a lot to think about, a lot to laugh about and cry about, a lot to remember... and a lot of reasons to share this movie with friends and watch it again.

3.
A History of Violence

This year there were three strangely similar films about violence. They all concerned people who were damaged by a violent attack, people who then had to decide whether or not to respond with violence. All three central characters have pasts that play into the way the respond, and the may or may not have dark secrets in their past.) All three central characters find that the violence will influence their marriage and families. All three learn that retaliation does not make things easier, nor does it resolve the situation. And, like so many great films, from Apocalypse Now to The Godfather to Unforgiven, they show the devastating effects of violence on the souls of those who employ it with the best intentions.

Of those three films, A History of Violence is my favorite. Munich is more ambitious, but it also has more obvious flaws. Cache is the most challenging, but it's not as compelling. David Cronenberg has created a masterpiece here, one that looks at the effects of violence from so many angles, even as it balances on a razor's edge between drama and satire, between the dark surreality of Blue Velvet and the political resonance of The Manchurian Candidate. It's dark, it's less than optimistic, and it ends with an aching question rather than an answer. But it's enthralling.

Moreover, it's powered by a variety of excellent performances, including Oscar-worthy work by Maria Bello, Viggo Mortensen, Ed Harris, and William Hurt.

Caution: This one's for discerning adults only, and they'd better have strong stomachs.

4.
Born into Brothels

What would happen if you gave cameras to the children who live in the darkest, most desperate city in the world?

This movie shows you. The children of the prostitutes living in Calcutta are the stars of this film, as an extraordinary woman named Zana Briski documents her efforts to help them survive amidst danger, disease, and disintegration. Your heart will break as you follow her in a quest to save these imprisoned souls. But you will also laugh and be amazed at the beauty and life that comes into focus through the eyes of these precious children. Unforgettable.

5.
Tony Takitani

In a one-of-a-kind motion picture, Jun Ichikawa adapts a short story by Haruki Murakami into a visual poem. Issei Ogata (who appeared in Yi-Yi, my favorite film of 2001) stars as an artist who is deeply lonely. When he finally finds true love with a woman who loves to shop, his world is transformed.

"She wore her clothes naturally," we're told, "as though enveloped by a special breeze." She tells Tony that the purchases "fill up what's missing inside me."

Tony finally becomes concerned. But when he says something about it, things take a severe turn. His world is transformed again. It's a sad, sad story, but the film is shot with such mesmerizing style and pacing that it lulls the audience into a dream-like state, something I've never experienced in a theater before.

6.
Munich

Steven Spielberg's movie about the terrorist attacks at the 1972 Olympic games in Munich, and Israel's pursuit of the "architects" of that terror, is both a riveting thriller and compelling study of ethics.

I was on the edge of my seat for almost the entire film. This is the first film Spielberg has directed without the help of storyboards, and the result is a faster, rougher, grittier piece of work than anything he's made in decades.

As an exploration of violence -- both malevolent violence and justifiable self-defense -- it's an important contribution to this year's series of films on the subject. Further it considers the effects of even the most justifiable violence on the heart and soul of the men who carry it out.

It's a superbly crafted, challenging, soul-searching film, powerfully acted, and possessed of control and restraint beyond anything Spielberg has achieved before. It's enough to restore faith in a great director who, in his other recent films, has seemed unable to resist sentimentality and contrivance. Further, it admirably avoids preaching. Art is better at asking questions than providing answers, and this film is full of urgent inquiry.

Spielberg calls this film "a prayer for peace." Many have interpreted that to mean that the film is a request for Israel and Palestine to surrender all violence. I think Spielberg's smart enough to know that non-violence will not solve any problems. The hero may, in the end, walk away from his participation in the violence... but that's not because he thinks it's been useless. It's because he can't take it any more, and he wants to invest his energies in a more hopeful gesture... his family. I think it's a prayer, yes, but the kind of prayer that says, "Lord, we are trapped in a nightmare of our own making and we don't know how to get out of it. Help us out here!"

7.
Cach
é

How would you feel if someone started giving you videotapes that showed you were under video surveillance during moments you thought you were alone? Violated? How would you feel if someone left frightening and bloody drawings in your mailbox? Threatened?

That's how Georges Laurent (Daniel Auteuil) and his wife Anne (Juliette Binoche) feel. And when the videotapes keep coming, revealing that the cameraman knows more about Georges and his past than Georges can explain, things become truly frightening. Plagued by nightmares and memories he would prefer to keep buried, Georges follows a hunch and targets his prime suspect.

Before long, what seemed a prank has Georges digging back in his memories and into France's political history. Like A History of Violence and Munich, Haneke's film illustrates that our sins--personal and national--will find us out. And it shows how paranoia and fear can lead to devastating and misguided actions.

Does the mystery get solved? Perhaps. (There is a hint hiding in plain sight near the end of the film.) But Haneke is more interested in the symptoms of fear and guilt than he is about revealing the perpetrator of these crimes. As a result, the film is a rich psychological exploration and a brilliantly crafted thriller.

8,9. (tie)
2046

Trilogy: The Weeping Meadow

The year's most ambitious films, and the two that were the most visually awe-inspiring, came from two master directors who can create images worth printing, framing, and hanging in art galleries. You could freeze-frame almost any moment in Wong Kar Wai's 2046 and Theo Angelopoulos's Trilogy: The Weeping Meadow and be amazed at the composition, color, and light.

Wong's film is about love, the pain of losing it, and the futility of trying to make the same thing happen again. As Tony Leung's despondent writer, Mr. Cho, thinks back on the love he lost in this film's predecessor, In the Mood for Love, he enters into several frustrating, rollercoaster love affairs with a prostitute (Zhang Ziyi), a gambler (Gong Li), a pixie-like writer (Faye Wong), and others. At the same time, he's writing a science fiction novel, in which these women appear as exotic androids.

The film is enthralling because nobody captures women as beautifully as Wong. But the story is intriguing too, and as reckless, indulgent, cruel, and foolish as Mr. Cho can be to these women, his story proves is a testament that love cannot be seized or forced.

Angelopoulos's film offers a different kind of visual beauty altogether. He frames whole villages, it seems, and challenges us to attend to the human experience in a particular chapter of history. In the middle of his vast canvases, a passionate tale of forbidden love plays out, capturing the fear, the passion, the beauty, and the loss of a culture as they are turned to refugees in the midst of World War 2.

You will see images that you will never forget, even if the love story wanders into some forgettable chapters. It's worth it just so you can marvel at the composition of images, from refugees fleeing their flooded town on rafts, to a field of billowing sheets, to extravagant parties and torrential downpours that make you wonder if Angelopoulos hired God for special effects work.

10.
The Best of Youth

While the style of this six-hour epic about an Italian family makes it feel more like a long-running television drama than a big screen event, the characters are unforgettable, the story is impressively ambitious, and the actors are uniformly convincing. It's a powerful story spanning lifetimes and the actors do a fantastic job of growing old before our eyes gracefully, without distracting makeup or exaggerated mannerisms. It's almost as though the film itself was made over a forty-year period. The conclusion is so beautifully bittersweet and graceful that it makes me want to go back and start over again immediately.

11.
Serenity

This year's best adventure film was Serenity, Joss Whedon's big screen conclusion to his small-screen series Firefly. The film was poorly promoted and failed at the box office, just as the show was poorly promoted and failed in the TV ratings. But both the series and the film are fantastic, capturing the wit and the rush, the cleverness and the drama, that we've been missing since the sun set on Indiana Jones, since Han Solo lost his edge and became a mild-mannered goofball.

The whole cast is great, but special credit is due to Nathan Fillion, who is equipped to follow in Harrison Ford's footsteps as a great action hero. Dirty Pretty Things' Chiwetel Eijofor stars as the wily, principled villain.

Joss Whedon's writing is so sharp, it makes you weep for what might have been if he'd been hired to script the Star Wars prequels. His humor is so clever that he turns this hard-hitting, suspenseful, action-packed space thriller into something unexpected... the 2005 movie with the most big laughs.

Fans will have to spend a lot of time in  prayer if they want to see these great characters again. But I will join them on my knees to do my part.

12.
Broken Flowers

Bill Murray stars in this offbeat comedy about an aging “Don Juan” who learns from an anonymous letter that he may have fathered a son 18 years earlier. Encouraged by Winston, his neighbor who is preoccupied with sleuthing, he hits the road to revisit his former lovers in hopes of discovering which one sent him the letter. Each visit confounds his expectations: the race-car widow, the prefabricated-home saleswoman, the animal therapist, and two more with more unfortunate stories. Jarmusch is a thoughtful storyteller who tends to be more interested in unusual characters and spontaneous moments than in compelling plotlines. This is his most accessible film for mainstream audiences. While Murray is occasionally funny, his performance serves to illustrate the angst of a man who lives with deep wounds and damage resulting from a life of promiscuity and self-absorption.

13.
The White Diamond

Sometimes the joy of a film comes not so much from the central storyline, but from the unexpected blessings of a journey. Almost all of Werner Herzog's films, both fiction and nonfiction, are about people who keep you guessing as to whether they are freaks, geniuses, madmen,  visionaries, or some combination. In this documentary, he follows one of those figures on a trip that he'll never forget, and thanks to his vigilant cameras, neither will you.

Graham Dorrington is an aeronautical engineer at London University, and he's one of the most interesting characters you'll meet at the movies this year, even though he isn't fictional. Dorrington has caught Herzog's attention. He's trying to build a special mini-airship that will let him float dreamily along above the lush rainforest canopy in Guyana and search for new medicines among its mysterious plant life. It's tougher than it sounds. And dangerous. In fact, one of the motivating factors in Dorrington's journey is the pain and the guilt he feels over the death of cinematographer Dieter Plage, who died in a dreadful airship accident in 1993.

I wanted so badly to tell you about the highlights of the journey, about the breathtaking images caught by Herzog's camera when he heads out to the rainforest; about the huge, awe-inspiring, perilous, chocolate-brown wonder known as Kaieteur Falls; about the most beautiful raindrop in the history; about the most amazing bird sanctuary on earth; and especially about my favorite movie personality of the year -- a man named Marc Anthony Yhap, a Rastafarian native who has a rooster that he dearly loves.

But the greatness of this film, which made me ready to call it my favorite of the year, was tarnished when I learned that Herzog had scripted some of the most memorable scenes, and fabricated some of what was presented as natural beauty.

Still, Herzog's film is full of truly exciting developments and some frightening predicaments, but those are outnumbered by unexpected pleasures and joys. While the airship adventures don't go exactly as planned, what does transpire will give you the exhilaration of an unpredictable flight over some of God's most dazzling creation, and it tastes so much sweeter because you've seen part of the effort it took to get there.

As Herzog himself insists, the film still has an "ecstatic truth," a poetic resonance. But I'm still somewhat resentful that he led me to believe I was watching footage of spontaenous activity and beauty, not things fundamentally manipulated by his imagination. Sure, all documentaries are affected and influenced by the filmmakers' imagination... but there is a difference between showing filming something natural and filming something fabricated. And that robs this film of the profundity it might have had if Herzog had just let the world speak for itself instead of feeding it lines that reflect his own narrow, distorted worldview.

Herzog insists, film after film, that chaos is the fundamental reality of existence. And yet, he constantly finds meaningful stories in the midst of it. For those who believe that chaos is evidence of evil, and meaning is evidence that good overcomes and even redeems evil, the situation might make a lot more sense. The White Diamond is a film about dreams, courage, vision, and risk... and it is made with love. If chaos is the ultimate reality, how would we come to recognize and know these things? How could we name anything as good or evil, definitively?

Available on DVD from Wellspring.

14.
The World

Beijing has a theme park that welcomes visitors with a banner that says, "See the world without ever leaving Beijing." And since the employees of the park are unlikely to ever travel beyond China’s borders, it becomes a bitterly ironic slogan for their lives of big dreams and harsh realities. Jia Zhang-ke's 2004 film The World takes us behind the scenes of the park’s extravagant, unusual pageantry, into the desperate lives of the workers there who travel this false world dreaming about the realities represented there. A monorail carries international tourists around the 115-acre park, giving them glimpses of remarkable, miniature replicas of the world’s architectural wonders, from a ¼-scale replica of the Eiffel Tower to the Leaning Tower of Pisa, to the Pyramids, to the Taj Mahal. Staring at a stunning recreation of the Manhattan skyline, a guide boasts that their World Trade Center towers are still standing. Similarly, Jia captures many of the world’s central conflicts in miniature as he imagines the personal dramas of the dancers, security officers, and tour guides. From political tensions to personal heartbreak, we see the impacts of capitalism on those who live within China’s stifling restrictions, and the dilapidated, disintegrating conditions behind the flashy façade. The World is a dazzling, ambitious, unique, and ultimately mournful masterpiece.

15.
Capote

In Cold Blood was Truman Capote’s last major work, and it exhausted him. After completing this notorious nonfiction novel about the 1959 headline-grabbing murder of a family in Holcomb, Kansas, Capote fell into a downward spiral of alcoholism and depression, which may have been due in part to the toll that the project took on his mind and heart.

Bennett Miller's new film Capote, based on Gerald Clarke's biography and scripted by Dan Futterman, should encourage a resurgence of interest in Capote’s work. It presents the events leading to In Cold Blood’s publication, from the moment the author has the inkling of inspiration, to the burden of ethical compromises he shoulders along the way.

At first glance, the story of an artist with compassion for prisoners would seem like a story of Christian virtue. And Capote, as played by Philip Seymour Hoffman, certainly demonstrates compassion for Perry Smith, the killer he befriends during prison visits while doing research for his next book.

But Miller’s movie is a far cry from Dead Man Walking. As we watch Capote cozy up to Smith (compellingly played by Clifton Collins Jr.) in his death-row cell, it’s clear that we’re witnessing a seduction. Capote, presenting himself as a cross between a priest offering absolution and a PR man advocating Smith’s release, presents himself as the killer’s only friend in the world. Then, his compassion morphs into opportunism and artistic zeal, drawing out the details he will use in his damning prose. "If I leave here without understanding you," he half-whispers, "like a little red devil on Smith's shoulder, the world will see you as a monster. And I don't want that." And yet, without blinking, he laughingly boasts to friends such as Harper Lee (Catherine Keener), author of To Kill a Mockingbird, that Smith is a gold mine, and that his project is the nonfiction book of the decade. Viewers will respond with conflicting feelings about the man as they watch his fascinating fluctuations between pity and pride, sympathy and selfishness. 

16, 17. (tie)
March of the Penguins
and
Grizzly Man

Another compelling documentary directed by Werner Herzog, Grizzly Man tells the strange and tragic story of Timothy Treadwell, a man who became so obsessed with “protecting” the grizzly bears of Alaska’s Katmai National Park, living among them, and boasting of his intimacy with them that eventually he lost his life. Herzog shares highlights of Treadwell’s 100-plus hours of footage, in which he cavorted with the bears, educated school children about their lives in the wild, and spewed bile and rage toward everyone from the U.S. government to poachers to the National Parks to God. We learn about Treadwell’s seemingly ordinary upbringing and his adult struggles. (He fell into depression after losing a part on the series “Cheers” to Woody Harrelson!) But even though it’s dramatic and horrifying to consider the bloody end of Treadwell’s life — and his girlfriend’s as well — Herzog is more interested in bringing our attention to the “invisible boundaries” that human beings should not trespass. Even as he insists, as an atheist, that the universe is a place of chaos, he is strangely drawn to the “meaning” of Treadwell’s life, and the idea that there are rules and designs to be respected. It’s a fascinating contradiction at the heart of an amazing film.

18.
No Direction Home: Bob Dylan

Martin Scorsese's revealing documentary about the first stages of Bob Dylan’s career does not explain this enigmatic songwriting legend, nor does it provide a comprehensive biography. What it does do, powerfully, is illustrate the great divide between art and the failed attempts of politics and culture to understand and control it. Focusing primarily on Dylan’s rise to fame during the cultural turbulence of the early 1960s, Scorsese peruses fantastic behind-the-scenes footage of Dylan in personal moments and backstage encounters. Interviews with Dylan himself, at his most candid, and with colleagues and collaborators from Joan Baez to Pete Seeger, give us new perspectives on famous moments in rock-music history. There is a great deal to consider here as we consider the difference between commercial entertainment and art, and as we look at how different talented individuals have walked paths of integrity, compromise, or total surrender to the exploitative nature of pop culture. Dylan endures as a heroic artist of unparalleled vision and integrity, even if his personal life has had its lapses into indulgence and recklessness.

19.
Batman Begins

Many have praised Christopher Nolan’s version of the Dark Knight as deeper and richer than other versions of the comic character. But comic books at their best are a serious literary form that converges with visual brilliance, and Nolan (Memento) brings that level of artistry to the screen in Batman Begins. With a first-rate cast that includes Christian Bale, Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine, Liam Neeson, Gary Oldman, and Cillian Murphy (and, yes, Katie Holmes), Nolan tells the story behind the hero and finds more than just a spectacular action film — he lets Bruce Wayne do a fair bit of soul-searching. The story asks troubling questions about the decadence of American culture, the origins of terrorism, the ethics of vigilante justice, and the nature of justice. Nolan finds a compelling story in Wayne’s moral struggle and his attempt to reckon with a painful past. While Sam Raimi and Brian Singer took comic book films to a new level with their Spider-man and X-Men films, Nolan has taken things ever higher and set a new standard.

20.
 Mirrormask

One of the most extraordinary special effects films ever made, MirrorMask is the closest that the Henson company has come to the visual glory of The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth, their fantasy classics. It's also a whimsical, intriguing story that takes us into one of the most imaginative wonderlands the big screen has ever seen. And the story is full of riddle, metaphor, and meaning. Fantastic. Easily the best fantasy film of the year.

21.
Downfall

Up close and personal with Hitler and his cronies during the last hours of World War II - Bruno Ganz is riveting as the disintegrating German warlord.

22.
Nobody Knows

Heartbreaking and astonishingly realistic, Hirokazu Koreeda's film about four children abandoned in a Tokyo apartment shows you the world from the point of view through a child's eyes. The effect is both enchanting and increasingly painful as you see just how easy it is to overlook the needy. It's even more painful when you realize that this is based on the 1988 discovery of a story very like this one actually taking place while the city carried on oblivious. Yûya Yagira gives an extraordinary performance that deserves honors alongside any of the popular award-winners like Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Joaquin Phoenix, or Heath Ledger. In fact, he won Best Actor at Cannes for this performance in 2004, when it screened there.

23.
The Squid and the Whale

What a nightmarish family! Noah Baumbach's drama about the suffering brought on by divorce, and the nightmare of joint custody, is a work of pasison, sadness, and painfully sharp observations. It's also strengthened by Jeff Daniels' greatest performance. Many months after watching it, it still hurts to think about the two boys and the anguish they endure as their world crumbles around them, torn about by two very selfish, very American individualists.

24.
Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit

There's so much creativity in this movie, you need to see it twice to fully appreciate it. While Wallace and Gromit work better as the subjects of short films, their first full-length feature is packed with laughs and the kind of quality that can only be achieved through hand-crafted animation. In a strong year for animation, this was the crowning glory.

25.
Pride and Prejudice

The previews looked sentimental, polished, and preposterous. But the movie, while it severely revises the classic novel in order to work as a two-hour version, is delightful from start to finish, full of bright and boisterous performances, anchored by the best work of Keira Knightley's career, enhanced by the subtle and marvelous Rosamund Pike, propelled by smart editing, and glowing with majestic cinematography. Joe Wright's debut film is the year's most promising mainstream debut.

26.
The Ballad of Jack and Rose

In a culture that equates individual desires with morality, The Ballad of Jack and Rose is a cautionary tale. Daniel Day-Lewis gives yet another in his career of unforgettable performances, playing a man clinging to an ideal that proved unreachable. Unwilling to change, obsessed with the past, he finds himself falling for the image of his wife which he sees in his growing daughter. And when the march of progress comes to the borders of their illusory Eden, the girl must make a choice between one imperfect world and another. Should she disappear with the world that is dying, or try to find hope in the one that is rising? Rebecca Miller's heartfelt, poetic drama may be the year's most sorely underrated picture.
 

27.
Touch the Sound

Rent Touch the Sound, turn up the volume, and you'll enjoy one of the most unusual and inspiring movies of the year.

Director Thomas Riedelsheimer has given us a documentary about a phenomenal percussionist named Evelyn Glennie, which tracks her progress around the world from her Scotland home to Japan and the U.S., making improvisational music with other musicians of all kinds. It's all about discovering wild new fusions of sound and, thus, tapping into feelings and ideas we wouldn't otherwise experience.

Glennie is an intriguing person. She is so appealingly childlike in her curiosity and playfulness, so full of joy. We come to rejoice with her in her exploration of sound, and to marvel at her life. (Did I mention that she's deaf?) And then, when this profile suddenly turns dramatic in last half-hour, we share in a sudden and deeply personal pain... only to find that pain redeemed by musical expression.

The film can revitalize your ability to listen, and deepen your appreciation for the world of sound, from the unusual to the everyday.

I loved Riedelsheimer's movie Rivers and Tides: Andy Goldsworthy Working in Time, but I think Touch the Sound is a much more creative film visually, making the overwhelming sonic experience of the film that much more engaging. Just as Rivers and Tides made Anne and I want to go redesign our backyard, this made me want to go outside, or through the kitchen, or into the basement, and start pounding on things just to see what they sound like.

I highly recommend this film to all musicians, and all who love music.

Which should cover almost everyone.

28.
Dear Frankie

When a single mother tries to hide the painful truth from her son about the character of his father, her whimsical inventions lead to a crisis in which she enlists the help of a reluctant, fatherly imposter.

29.
Howl's Moving Castle

Howl's Moving Castle, the latest masterpiece by the world's greatest animated-film storyteller Hayao Miyazaki, recycles many of his favorite ideas and introduces dozens more. That's not a bad thing. While some of these fairy tale elements will remind you of Spirited Away, Miyazaki's 2003 Oscar-winning triumph, you'll be having so much fun you're not likely to care.

 

Some critics are bothered by the fact that Howl's Moving Castle has a rather convoluted story that borders on the nonsensical and contains some rather arbitrary twists. Again, you're not likely to complain. The movie is like a ten-car pileup of fairy tales and adventurer stories. There are more fantastic ideas, awe-inspiring sights, and memorable characters here than in a Disney triple-feature, so it's awfully good of Disney studios to distribute work so far superior to their own.

30.
Everything is Illuminated

Elijah Wood was a big enough name to draw some attention to this film, but not big enough to win it the audience it deserved. I didn't catch up with it until late in 2006, far too late to give the film the credit it deserved at the end of 2005. It's a film that shifts gracefully from amusing to whimsical to mysterious, and then it becomes something deeply moving. It's probably too quirky and unconventional for a lot of viewers, but Anne and I sat dabbing tears from our faces as Liev Schreiber's vision surprised us and spoke to us. And Eugene Hutz is a real discovery. I hope we see a lot more of him. I haven't read Jonathan Safran Foer's book, and those who have say that this is a poor representation of its strengths and a drastic simplification of its complicated web of stories. Perhaps. But on its own, this plays like a short story sharpened to penetrate the heart. Give it a try.

 

OTHERS WORTH SEEING:

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe

and

Star Wars, Episode Three: Revenge of the Sith

Andrew Adamson kicks off Disney's new Narnia franchise with a remarkable big screen fantasy that's strong enough to capture most of the ideas that make C.S. Lewis's beloved novel such a delight. Unfortunately, he loses his balance mid-way, favoring new cliffhanger action scenes over some of the book's most extraordinary sequences. Aslan is not the awe-inspiring, fearsome, tremble-inducing presence he should have been--and if you saw Peter Jackson's King Kong, you know how fearsome CGI animals can be. And the Witch is quite a different character than the one in the book. Nevertheless, Narnia comes to life because of the smart casting: Georgie Henley is especially captivating as Lucy, and every time the film focuses on her, we believe in Narnia, and we want to stay there. It's hard not to think about what it might have been, but we should be grateful for the small wonders along the way.

Meanwhile, another major fantasy franchise ended this year. Revenge of the Sith is the best of the three Star Wars prequels, featuring better action and a stirring finale that sets up that classic Episode Four nicely. You can't really call what the actors are doing "acting"... they still seem to be merely reciting lines. And what they're saying isn't really "dialogue" ... it's like real conversation boiled down to bare essentials for easily translation around the world. But the spectacle of the film is as enthralling as you'd hope, and the operatic climax delivers that sense of timeless myth that we felt in The Empire Strikes Back. While we'll always wish Lucas had handed the directorial reins to someone else, he still understands the power of myth to resonate with truth, and this story about a democracy that slips obliviously into the hands of tyrants is rich with relevance. Further, the story of Anakin is a memorable tale of a selfish whiner whose loyalty shifted to those who told him what he wanted to hear, not what he needed to hear.

Murderball
Winter Solstice
Land of Plenty
The Exorcism of Emily Rose
Hawaii, Oslo
Undertow
Syriana
In Her Shoes