9 Movies That I Saw in 2011

I'm not dogging Dublin - it's just how it is.  We see movies that opened in New York  several months ago (in some cases, over a year) - so 2011 was the Year of the Download for me.  There should be more foreign films on this list, alas, it is difficult to get working subtitles on downloads.

So instead of a proper top 10 - here are nine* films that I saw last year.  The good ones.  Some excellent.

DRIVE

(U.S.) It was the starkness of this film that got me.  Bare dialogue.  The viewer knows next to nothing about the protagonist. Except that he can drive.  That this is his life.  That he is a good person.  That he fancies his next door neighbor, the cute semi-single mother with an actual story.  That when there is a threat against the good people in his life (Carey Mulligan, Bryan Cranston in their usual stellar performances) horrific spikes of violence pop on the screen. 

Gorilla-sized guns used expertly, fast cars on L.A. highways driven expertly, beautiful, still shots of innocent, romantic scenes. Albert Brooks, not playing the bumbling good-guy.  He uses forks and knives not to eat, but to kill.  Pulsating, rhythmic music and no sound at all.  You can't help but not breathe through most of it.
 THE GUARD
(Ireland) Let me first say, that I love Brendan Gleeson.  He can dress up the dowdiest of films.  Luckily, he only added to this already wonderful movie. Writer/director John McDonagh shares the same hilarity/tragedy bend as his brother, Martin McDonagh (In Bruges) and it shows up brilliantly on the screen.

Aside from being absolutely hilarious and absolutely tragic, it’s also an interesting observation on Irish/American relations.  The exchange between Gleeson and Don Cheadle (who plays a FBI agent come to the west of Ireland to solve a drugs case) says much of both cultures.  Gleeson’s unintentional/somehow innocent racist comments suggest a culture ignorant of race relations.  True enough – Ireland (especially non-Dublin) is all white people! And that’s Irish white – so…translucent.  Cheadle’s incessant reminder to Gleeson that maybe he shouldn’t be telling him all this stuff suggests a culture of cautiousness, of over-awareness (at least in the 'privileged' classes, such as Cheadle’s character describes himself a part of).  

One of the funniest moments in the film is when the gardai (Irish police) are doing their debrief and introducing Cheadle’s character.  Gleeson, in the usual Irish fashion, swears like no tomorrow and his boss screams at him: “not in front of THE AMERICAN.”  

P.S. A cop in Ireland is called a “garda”, not a guard. 

MELANCHOLIA
(U.S.) Scary.  Probably the scariest non-horror I’ve seen in some time.  The realization of the end of the world.  A meandering path through mental illness and shots of a beautiful, giant planet, overtaking Earth. Duo sunrises, duo sunsets. And a wedding.

The slow, subtle death march to the end reminds of battles with cancer in the modern age.  Still horrific, except there is a genuine optimism on how technology and modern science will save the cancer patient.  Things start to look better, remission, hair grows back and then, from out of nowhere, it all returns, it’s spread, it’s grown bigger, it’s terrifyingly unwieldy.  The modern age, with all its sciencey promise, fails.  And in the end (of this film), we are all desperately afraid.

A Separation

(Iran) A story so small and specific, it is thoroughly universal.  The viewer feels like an intimate voyeur – able to view every single small detail, all the cracks and unspoken conversations.  

There is a laid back quality to the movie – it feels as if you are watching a real family’s life unfold (and unravel) in real time, all the while sensing a strong undercurrent of something big about to happen.  And then you realize big things are already happening: a separation, a custody battle, dealing with a parent with Alzheimers, a conviction of murder, debilitating depression and unemployment.  Nothing is overdone or overstated and still this film manages a surprising intensity throughout it all. 
Super 8

(U.S.) The most commercial of my picks, definitely the biggest budget.  An almost all-kid cast.  How is this on my list?  

It was entertaining – in an earnest, sincere way (i.e. there weren’t random cuts to gyrating teenagers or efforts to establish older characters as ‘hip’. Granted, it’s set in the 70s, but still) It has one of those magical coming-of-age qualities, reminding me of watching films like Jumanji and Jurassic Park growing up – where you want to watch it over and over again and aren’t severely disappointed when re-watching as an adult.  

And of course, the effects are amazing.

Take Shelter

(U.S.) Quiet, haunting.  Parallels to Melancholia in its attention to the gravity of mental illness and foreshadowing of the end of the world.  Nightmares of a super storm and a scare of schizophrenia plague the protagonist, expertly portrayed by Michael Shannon.  

Even in the midst of terrifying murmurations and visions of weightless furniture and trios of tornadoes, Shannon’s character attempts to hide it all away from friends, co-workers and especially from his wife (played by the new and wonderful Jessica Chastain) and deaf daughter – all the while building a military-grade shelter in his backyard. 

The Trip

(U.K.) Very British.  And surprisingly funny.  A buddy/road trip film starring the ever-narcissistic Steve Coogan and the underdog Welsh comic, Rob Brydon. Think Sideways, except in documentary-style, Northern England instead of California and even less of a plot.  

Dueling impersonations, drawn out to cringe-worthy lengths and still, somehow, surprisingly FUNNY.  Their best: Michael Caine, Al Pacino, Anthony Hopkins.  Their worst: Woody Allen and Dustin Hoffman.  They can’t get the New York Jew down! 
The Yellow Sea

(South Korea) I’m so happy to include a Korean film in this list.  From the same director of The Chaser, comes this bloody, heart-wrenching story of one man’s desperate journey from China to South Korea to settle a gang leader’s debt and his private mission to find his estranged (somewhat dishonored) wife.   

The protagonist, unassuming and dejected though he is, fights tooth and nail (and dismembered thumb!) to survive in this sepia-colored, jaundiced world.  At one point he actually uses a large meat bone to clobber his enemies, often fighting off twenty or more men at a time.  The viewer wants him to live, to surpass all highly ridiculous odds, knowing he has less than nothing to live for.  This film boasts seemingly impossible chase sequences and still manages to unload an emotional heft, leaving the viewer weepy and exhilarated. 
We Need To Talk About Kevin
(U.K.) Themes of red, shame and crippling horror throughout - I know I cannot properly describe this film, so I will say little.

Except that it is brilliant and terrifying and leaves the viewer desperate to watch sugary drivel immediately after leaving the theatre.  Also, Tilda Swinton is excellent.

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P.S. Here are 6 documentaries that I saw in 2011, but don't want to write about because it would take too long. They are all, in their own very different ways, quite good:

Bobby Fischer Against the World
Conan O'Brien Can't Stop
The Interrupters
Knuckle
Project Nim
Tabloid

* I watched way more television than I did movies in 2011 and consequently, couldn't eek out a 10th film to put on the list.  Seems t.v. is more and more the writer's medium - so I was very consistently entertained (read: obsessed and taken over by) the quality of tv series I watched this last year.

All I want for Christmas is my three front teeth

They come in piecemeal.  If their name isn't on the list, they're told to come back later.  Mostly Irish, the occasional Brit and the odd woman.  The first thing we ask is if they'd like some tea.  Milk and sugar?  Almost always.  The blind man  in the corner asks for coffee.

It was my first night at Dublin Simon's 'social club' - a night where DS 'service users' (the homeless) come and eat with the volunteers.  

I don't know my way around and feel in the way of other volunteers.  So I sit down and start talking.  This man is from Lithuania.  His English isn't good and my hearing is bad.  I feel I am doing more harm, making him stammer out broken sentences.  He uses his hands to speak louder.  He is missing his ring finger.  Someone tells him they ordered a garlic pizza just for him and he smiles wide.  He's missing four front teeth, not all in a row.  He excuses himself and I move on.

A famous Irish comedian makes a surprise visit.  His name is David McSavage and at first, I mistake him for another service user.  Half his jokes are about Americans and how superficially positive we are.  I think his jokes are funny, if brash, but a service user interrupts his show to tell him there's an American in the audience.  He makes me identify myself and apologizes. My cheeks redden and I tell him it's alright.  I leave the room to talk to the blind man in the corner.

Let's call him John.  He wears a long, black coat and wired spectacles.  He seems regal, despite the stains on his jacket.  He notices my accent and asks me where I'm from.  Chicago.  He gives me an encylopedic history of the state of Illinois.  Most facts I'd forgotten, some I never knew.  I ask him if he's been to the States, he says no.  But it's a lifelong dream and one day he'd like to go to Alaska.  He smiles big and I notice he too is missing three front teeth.  All in a row, just like me.  Except I have dentures, so no one knows. 


I've been living with dentures now for over a year.  In lieu of being able to afford dental implants, I got a nice set of fake front teeth that everyone says look very nice.  The nice dentist in Ann Arbor said mine were the second brightest shade of white he'd ever fitted to match someone's teeth.  It was nice of him to say.

John knows everything about everything and still has a sense of humor.  We laugh about differences between the Irish and Americans and I hardly notice when my dentures start to slip a little for laughing a little bit too hard.  I know John doesn't notice. 

It's the end of the evening and we're made to say goodbye.  I let him know I'll be back next week and that it was so very nice to meet him.  He lets me know there isn't another social club til after the holidays, so be sure to mark it in my calendar. 

Someone helps him up and leads him outside.  I wonder how his holidays will be. 

I am grateful for my dentures and for my warm apartment.  And that I can come back and talk to John again.  After the holidays, of course. 

Merry Christmas everyone!