I've decided to cut down this year's top films into a list of five for a couple of reasons, both of which are a bit depressing. First of all, there's an uncomfortable number of movies that might well have made the list if I hadn't been too busy and/or lazy to see them (The Social Network, Winter's Bone, The Illusionist). This is depressing because I don't particularly want to live in a world where I miss Winter's Bone but manage to drag my carcass to Fulham to see Solomon Kane. The second reason is that 2010 wasn't exactly a banner year for cinema, all things considered. Of course there were great movies, but the gaps between them felt unusually wide. A hefty proportion of this year's blockbusters failed to make an impression (Iron Man 2, Clash of the Titans, The A-Team, Prince of Persia), and the latest Harry Potter was baffling and frustrating in equal measure for a non-reader (wait, Ron has another brother? When did the Ministry of Magic turn into a magical wing of the Gestapo? Oh, and what in the motherloving fuck is a Horcrux?). A few smaller films have been thoroughly enjoyable and thought-provoking, but just a little too slight to merit full celebration (Buried, Jackass 3D, Valhalla Rising, I'm Still Here).
With the likes of The King's Speech, True Grit, Black Swan and Never Let Me Go kicking off 2011, hopefully our cinema calendars will be more enticing this year. But in the meantime, here are five films that shone like twinkling diamonds on the dung hill of 2010.
Four Lions (d. Chris Morris; w. Chris Morris, Sam Bain & Jesse Armstrong)
Coming from minds that brought us the likes of The Day Today, Brass Eye, Nathan Barley and Peep Show, it should come as no surprise that Four Lions is bladder-worryingly funny. This story of bumbling jihadists from Sheffield struggling to pull off a suicide attack at the upcoming London Marathon is stuffed to the gills with timeless slapstick gags and hilarious sound bites ("I'm not confused, brother. I just took a picture of my face and it's deffo not my confused face"), with just the right amount of sly subversion.
The surprising thing about Four Lions is everything else. The performances, which are at once funny and sinister and somehow sweet, are a revelation. Riz Ahmed as Omar is the perfect anchor for the film, the Wise to the rest of the crew's Morecambe. Omar's struggles as a leader, his joy as a family man and his inner conflicts as a human being are constantly playing across Ahmed's beleaguered face. Nigel Lindsay as overcompensating fanatic Barry and Kayvan Novak as impressionable simpleton Waj are also both deserving of the highest praise.
It's also surprising that so much poignancy and humanity has been squeezed around all the laughs. The film expertly treads a fine line in not excusing the characters' actions, but portraying them as human and fallible. It looks at the complex factors that lead to radicalisation with a light touch and a great deal of consideration. The secret of Four Lions is that it forces us to see its "martyrs" as real people led down a devastating path by a mix of chance and prescriptive ideology. As such, it's a rare example of a comedy that plays to the best in us, when it could have so easily pandered to the worst.
Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (d. Edgar Wright; w. Edgar Wright & Michael Bacall)
Possibly the most divisive movie since The Fountain thrilled/bored audiences with its bold vision/pretentious claptrap (delete as appropriate). For every diehard adherent, there's someone else claiming that Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, based on the graphic novels by Bryan Lee O'Malley, is the worst kind of empty hipster nonsense that caters to the worst impulses of the MTV generation.
The sad thing is that most of the bile floating aroung the net has more to do with knee-jerk reactions against an indie culture that is perceived to be snide and pretentious rather than the film itself. Because Scott Pilgrim, viewed without scoff goggles, is 2010's best example of pure, effervescent action/comedy joy. The jokes share the zing and bounce of the original books, and the action fleshes out the vision of the comics with the mischief and flair that Edgar Wright has displayed since his breakout TV series Spaced.
Behind the one-liners and slapstick fight scenes, the film does have something to say about graduating from man-boy to man, as our titular hero (Michael Cera) fights for the heart of his latest infatuation Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) while slowly realising the flaws in his own self-obsessed personality. But at its heart, Scott Pilgrim is pure fantasy, melding Jackie Chan-esque chop socky and hyper-real visuals with the quirks of Toronto's music scene (while also, haters take note, poking fun at it). From the immaculately conceived soundtrack (with Beck's contributions to the Sex Bob-Omb songs a particular standout) to the pervasive presence of videogame stylings, it's a spectacularly well-conceived bubblegum experience, bursting with the vitality and enthusiasm of youth.
Inception (d. & w. Chris Nolan)
One of the finest filmmakers working in mainstream cinema today, Chris Nolan has been on a pretty flabbergasting run in the last few years. He effortlessly restored Batman's street cred. The Dark Knight transcended all expectations of what a superhero movie is expected to be. He knocked out cinematic rubik's cube The Prestige in between his Batman blockbusters. Throughout, his movies have retained the crispness of thought and the purity of vision that made Memento such a success, while simultaneously raking in hundreds of millions of dollars and making Nolan of the most powerful voices in Hollywood.
Inception marks another triumph for Nolan as the pre-eminent master of accessible moviemaking that's as deep as you need it to be. Casual viewers of Inception will find immense satisfaction in the film's thunderous action scenes and strong performances from the likes of Leonardo DiCaprio, Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Marion Cotillard. But those who want to delve deeper into this story of subconscious subterfuge will strike hidden reserves. Inception has been created with a blistering level of forethought (nearly ten years of forethought, in fact), Nolan playing with physics and metaphysics as Cobb and his dream spies plunge ever deeper into the recesses of the mind. That might sound dull on paper, but when it's all played out through anti-gravity fistfights and folding cities, it makes for an experience that's as spectacular as it is cerebral.
With Inception, Nolan has also answered the criticism that he is so consumed with the mechanics of the mind that he leaves little room for the tender fluctuations of the heart. That most of the film takes place in the world of dreams allows Nolan to give flesh to raw emotions and thoughts that in other films remains buried behind characters' eyes. Protagonist Cobb's lingering guilt over the fate of his wife Mal, as well as his desire to find his way back to the children he's been forced to flee from, provides the story's backbone and emotional anchor. Inception adds to the already compelling evidence that if Nolan has indeed become the most powerful director in Hollywood, we're in safe hands.
How To Train Your Dragon (d. Chris Sanders, Dean DeBlois; w. Chris Sanders, Dean DeBlois, Peter Tolan, Adam F. Goldberg)
Probably the most satisfying film to watch this year, and definitely 2010's best use of 3-D. I may be slightly biased due to my borderline unhealthy obsession with scaly flying leviathans since the approximate age of zero onwards, but I don't know anyone who has seen How To Train Your Dragon who would disagree with me. The story of soft-hearted muppet Hiccup's struggle to win the approval of his dragon-hunting Viking peers while keeping his new draconic friend a secret, How To Train... is a true family film.
The movie was always going to be a hit with kids, but it snags the affection of adults not by sneaking in some pop culture references, but by giving grown-ups a chance to access their inner child. Watching Hiccup's maiden flights on his tame Night Fury Toothless, it's almost impossible not to giggle along like a child on a roller coaster. The art direction is coherent and well thought-out, from the simple beauty of the rugged landscapes to the charming menagerie of different dragon species, with the strangely feline and utterly disarming Toothless a particular standout (the directors also helmed Lilo & Stitch, and the Toothless-Stitch connection is clear).
The characters and story have a great deal of charm, leading up to a genuinely thrilling climax with real bite (pun 100% intended). But in the end they play second fiddle to the simple pleasure of watching a boy and a dragon make friends while soaring around in the clouds. For anyone else who dreamed of befriending a giant flying lizard (or still does, there's no judgement here), we can finally replace those old VHS copies of The Flight of Dragons with the best dragon fantasy ever. Just figure out a better title for the sequel, please.
Somewhere (d. & w. Sofia Coppola)
It's so easy to dislike Sofia Coppola movies. The fact that she's the privileged daughter of a world-renowned film director, combined with her predilection for hazy ambiguity and eschewing propulsive narrative, often plays to her critics' nastiest assumptions. But Coppola's films would stand with or without the backing of a Hollywood legend (whether she would have gotten the opportunity to make them is another question, obviously). They share a quiet, elegant tone that tries to say a lot with as few words as possible. While Coppola may frustrate some viewers looking for a quick snackdown on some plot pie, we should celebrate directors who are taking the harder path by trying to stretch the boundaries of what can be expressed on film, shouldn't we?
Of all Coppola's films, Somewhere might be the most trying for audiences. Dialogue is really cut down to a minimum, with whole scenes dedicated to the likes of a girl cooking a poached egg or a sports car roaring monotonously around a race track. This story of isolated actor Johnny Marco (Stephen Dorff) having his 11 year-old daughter Cleo (a radiant and refreshingly unprecocious Elle Fanning) unexpectedly foisted upon him doesn't give much in the way of context. Scenes slide into one another with little connective tissue, building the impression that Marco's existence is confined to a series of sumptuous hotel rooms.
But everything that makes the movie a hard sell is what makes it special. The movie paints Marco as a disconnected, lonely individual, whose luxurious surroundings belie the mind-numbing tedium of his contractual obligations. Like the sports car speeding around the track at the film's opening, Marco is a trinket going nowhere. The sudden intrusion of Cleo doesn't quite kick off the Hollywood-patented journey of emotional reengagement, but it adds a sense of urgency to Marco's confusion about his public and personal life (the former he has lots of, the latter he has almost none).
Although the story marks no seismic change in Marco's life and his relationship with Cleo, there are so many fascinating little details that elegantly build the strange little world he inhabits so joylessly. The film is also one of the best examples of weaving music into the narrative, providing extra hints into Marco's mindset without superfluous lines of explanatory dialogue. Somewhere will never be lauded for its brash visuals or explosive storyline, but it has a boldness of its own; a willingness to speak quietly in an industry that too often rewards the loudest voice.
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