Fuck Me in the Beard

In lieu of leaving a pithy remark on Eric’s constraints, here are ten movies and a few nuggets to display the logic that went into this finely calculated mess:

1. Syndromes and a Century
2. No Country for Old Men
3. The Host
4. Paprika
5. 28 Weeks Later *
6. Ratatouille
7. Transformers **
8. Zodiac
9. Black Book
10. Grindhouse ***

* beat Still Light, a movie that no one else saw.
** beat There Will Be Blood, despite “I drink your milkshake” > “Freedom is the right of all sentient beings”
*** beat Knocked Up, because “I never miss” > “fuck me in the beard” – this deserves a recount, but I’m not raising the 2k for it. Where are you when I need you, Kucinich?

My favorite part of our Movie Club isn’t the lists, so I find Eric’s admirable provocation the only reason I care this year. I just wonder if Eric argued so strongly to limit picks for the later discussion? Or to see when we draw a line the sand who’s hand will shake?

Jon, I hope you’re understanding of where I stand on the great divide of whether lists are RAISING AWARENESS OF GREAT ART. This shouldn’t just happen at the end of each year - assigned with a number and blurb of hyperbole. As an idealist, I like to believe that we should RAISE AWARENESS OF GREAT ART every day of the year – wrap-ups be damned.

But Jon does raise the profile of at least one movie that would have been skipped if we all just brought ten to the table. For me, Helvetica is the documentary worth discussing from 2007 – an honor I doubt few of you would agree with considering we still see few ends in sight (hyuck hyuck). Helvetica is a movie that has already reared its influence at Cosmodrome re-design earlier this year, and can be seen from the header graphic down. Helvetica is a documentary that forces you to see the world differently. And I say that cliché in the most literal sense.

Clichés abound when making lists and analyzing lists. My favorite has been Mr. L’enfant terrible Alex, running the gamut of “2007 has been scarred by esoterica-oriented critics gushing over their discovery of the mainstream.” For those of you who read music criticism, this can feel like a tired debate, the flames between rockist vs. popist put out years ago. But, here’s where it gets funny - he brings up the avant navel gaze of I’m Not There as the reason for a rejuvenated love of mainstream. I might be quite happy to agree with Alex, but mostly because I’ve grown more than a little weary of boomer-nostalgia and even wearier of a re-imagining of boomer-nostalgia that I find in I’m Not There. The fact that the movie is a “good” bio-pic is a non-accomplishment, as advertising tells me, akin to “being the tallest midget.” Freewheeling, yes. Another side of Bob Dylan, sure. Bringing it All Back Home, ack. Highway 61 Revisited, stop. Please just make it stop.

The movies of 2007 that I really enjoyed, though, were not always there. Both Syndromes and a Century and Still Light were strung together by the barest of narrative thread every scene by ponderous scene – they both took Tarkovsky’s anti-montage for a walk around the block (the opening shot of Silent Light alone is worth arriving at the theater an hour early – I know, I almost missed it). And I don’t mean to overlook Paprika, The Host, Transformers and Grindhouse. All understood when to throw logic out the window whenever it was unnecessary for the spectacle.

But to balance that, the rest of my list consisted of films more formal than freewheeling. No Country for Old Men, Ratataouille and Black Book were finely tuned and roared louder than any other car on the block. And I’m fine that it could just be allegiance to my favorite working directors - Coens, Brad Bird and Verhoeven.

As his roommate, I’ve heard what’s given Oscar pause before contributing - he feels bad about missing The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. Oscar has a more forgiving heart than mine. It’s probably why that movie will only be known as a “truly remarkable true story”. Instead, I felt bad contributing before seeing Southland Tales. I now know that it’s a movie that doesn’t stumble into camp, but leaps ass-first. So I’m going to end these notes, in its honor, with a monologue from Next – one of my favorites of the year.