Javier's Top Ten

Okay, with Javier's approval, I am now going to take a crack at guessing what the top ten to his deliciously addictive countdown of the Best Female Performances (2000-2004) will look like. So far, the list has featured several unexpected surprises (The Hours' Toni Collette, Kill Bill's Daryl Hannah) and the sturdy staples that would be found in any respectable critic's book (Adaptation's Meryl Streep, Before Sunset's Julie Delpy). Although I think I have a fairly good idea of Javi's favorite performances are, I still sense I'll be lucky if I predict even 6 out of the 10 spots. Why? Well, in his own words: "I think there might be some surprising inclusions (and omissions?), but others not so much." Thus, it is up to me to do some detective work and uncover what those not-so-surprising inclusions will be... This has proven to be more difficult than I thought because a) I've only known Javier since November, and haven't had time to discuss actresses with him that often; b) I have no way of knowing of he feels about movies/performances that we haven't spoken about; and c) Most of our conversations have revolved around the 2005 film year (obviously irrelevant for the purposes of this list).

Aside from that problem, the real puzzle that has me stumped is who will take the #1 spot, and I have it narrowed down between Nicole Kidman and her real-life BFF Naomi Watts. It's no secret that Javi loves himself some Mulholland Dr., and has already stated that the performance will place. And although there is no question that Watts will place high (top three at least), I'm asking myself how high... I know that Kidman's work in Birth has a lot of us bloggers in rapturous awe; as Nathaniel pointed out some time ago, it was like Bergman himself had extracted that icy, ethereal persona (heh) from within her. I feel like there is an upset in the air, but I don't think I'm brave enough to see it through - I'm thinking Watts just barely nudges her out. Then again, that says nothing for other work I am sure Javier adores, like Ellen Burstyn in Requiem for a Dream, Uma Thurman for Kill Bill Vol. 1 and Vol. 2, and Julianne Moore in Far From Heaven. What to say? I feel like I'm predicting the National Board of Review's end-of-year choices, because there is no reasoning on my part that sounds rational.

The Predicted 10:
1. Naomi Watts, Mulholland Drive
2. Nicole Kidman, Birth
3. Ellen Burstyn, Requiem for a Dream
4. Björk, Dancer in the Dark
5. Isabelle Huppert, The Piano Teacher
6. Kate Winslet, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
7. Julianne Moore, Far From Heaven
8. Uma Thurman, Kill Bill Vol. 2
9. Patricia Clarkson, Dogville
10. Samantha Morton, Morvern Callar

The next ten that I can't let go of... (Snubees or Potential Surprises?)
Laura Linney, You Can Count on Me
Diane Lane, Unfaithful
Scarlett Johansson, Lost in Translation
Evan Rachel Wood, thirteen
Liv Ullman, Saraband
Charlize Theron, Monster (Doubt this though...)
Diane Keaton, Something's Gotta Give
Miranda Richardson, Spider
Gwyneth Paltrow, The Royal Tenenbaums
Michelle Pfeiffer, White Oleander

... and Hilary Swank, Million Dollar Baby (I know he loooves this performance. Am I right, Javier? ;)

#14 (Male Performances in Review 2000-2004)

*Spoiler Warning*

There is one scene in Baz Luhrmann's Moulin Rouge! that is so overwhelmingly sorrowful that it has me looking away every time I watch it (it is simply too painful to absorb fully). This is, of course, towards the end of the film when Ewan McGregor's Christian embraces the body of his just-deceased lover Satine (Nicole Kidman), looks up towards heaven, and emits a guttural, grief-stricken sob. The sound gives me shivers down my spine every time, and I almost feel as though my presence in the scene is intrusive. It is almost as if such a moment of horrific tragedy is not intended for my eyes; it is too personal, too private. And yet, I thank the cinema gods when I am lucky enough to encounter scenes that affect me so tremendously. It is impossible to think of this film without McGregor in the lead role, who is so committed and passionate writing his love story (both in in his life and on paper) that you cannot help but fall hopelesly in love with him. The moment he meets Satine, the most popular performer at the Moulin Rouge, he pursues her unapologetically despite the fact he is a penniless writer with nothing material to offer her. His hook? Love. It is enough, he argues, to keep them content and together ("I will love you until my dying day.") Credit must be given to McGregor, who sells not only Satine on this, but us as well; it is impossible not to believe him when such earnesty and devotion sparkle and dance in his eyes. When he insists "All you need is love!" to a flustered Kidman, it suddenly makes perfect and total sense (if only real life were that simple). To watch McGregor here is to experience pure joy; I find that I have a big goofy smile plastered on my face every time he breaks into song or tries to make Satine laugh. This is a fearless, sexy and emotionally naked performance, one of those rarities that we must acknowledge and cherish because they only come along once in a (singing?) blue moon.

#15 (Male Performances in Review 2000-2004)

To me, one of the more puzzling trends of awards season 2004 was how Ethan Hawke never managed to get any heat for his Before Sunset campaign while co-star Julie Delpy was always listed as a potential dark-horse for various prizes. In fact, I recall a huffy rant I typed up two years ago on my RT Blog, appalled by a Warner Brothers Independent FYC ad that pushed the film, Delpy and the screenplay for awardage and yet had no mention of Hawke. True, some of those talents behind the film had better chances than he, but ultimately the Before Sunrise/Sunset saga is about the chemistry and banter between a duo. And as much as I adore Julie Delpy (see Javier's comments here) in this film, Ethan Hawke is just as integral to the film's greatness as she is. Immersing oneself in this masterpiece sequel provides a multitude of pleasures, one of which is studying how each other these characters have changed since we last saw them nine years ago. Most apparent seems to be the surprising reversal of life outlooks: once a cocky pessimistic young man, Jesse now attempts to focus on the few things that are positive about the world and his life (while Celine has become embittered and disenchanted by the many blows experienced over the course of her twenties). Despite the fact that he feels obligated to remain within a passionless marriage, he puts on a strong exterior. One of my favorite moments in the film is when he first glimpses Celine in the bookshop, but attempts to hide his elation and continue on with his group interview. You can see a hint of gleeful joy trying to escape his body while catching up with Celine in the quaint little coffee shop. Just as evident is the horny, sex-starved teenager taking control while thinking back to the intimate encounter in Venice, and considering the possibility of such a miracle happening again. It's a treasure of a performance, seemingly effortless, yet hauntingly deep and breathtaking in its complexity. Physically and mentally, he is worn out from the pressures of his home life, yet it is clear that reconnecting with Celine has renewed him. This is not an easy arc to complete (and all the while, keep the pain completely hidden and yet palpable), yet Hawke pulls it off so impressively. This is performance is a work of art, so winningly delivered and yet not a smidgeon rehearsed. Jesse's soul is so giving, and yet so desperately hungry for attention and acceptance. Hawke is so adept at giving us hints of this romantically deprived character that by the end, we are practically screaming for these two to jump each other already.

Snap

#16 (Male Performances in Review 2000-2004)

Truth be told, I was tempted to give this spot to the entire cast (including Carly Schroeder, even though it would be cheating) of Jacob Aaron Estes's Mean Creek, each actor having shown range and depth beyond their few years (in fact, beyond most other adult performers currently basking in the limelight). Indeed, the acting featured in this film is, simply put, an embarrassment of riches - from Rory Culkin's soft, tender adolescent to Josh Peck's unexpectedly complex bully, any choice would have been befitting. But since I already barred myself from group citations early on in my rules, Scotty Mechlowicz it is (the film's stand-out). This performance was my pick for the Best Supporting Actor of 2004 (and I would have handed a Best Ensemble prize to the entire cast), and it still holds up even now. His compelling characterization of Marty may initially seem like nothing more than the standard teenage troublemaker, but Mechlowicz is always aware of how the history of violence and abuse inflicted against his character fuel his manipulation and degradation of others. In fact, Marty has grown to normalize this behaviour, erupting with fury when plans to humiliate Peck's George are called off ("I'm a man who likes to follow through with his plans."). There is a sense that this is all he knows how to do ("[I'm] bored as fuck."), and that he is unable to attain power any other way. At the same time, he is hungrily desperate for validation, trying to impress these young adolescents by boasting of his defiant accomplishments and demonstrating that rumours about his large penis are not without basis. However, once conditions during a boating trip quickly spiral out of control, the façade of leadership begins to disintegrate - Marty is unable to fix the dilemma with his usual shortcuts. Indeed, the film concludes providing little hope for Marty's salvation; he continues to believe that a life of intimidation and crime provides the only future for him. Mechlowicz's devastating breakdown while holding up a convenience store is a stunning moment of acting. Without the need for words, the actor perfectly exposes the traumatized child behind the posing exterior. In that moment, it is clear that Marty is just as much the inexperienced, painfully vulnerable youth as Schroeder's Millie or Kelley's Clyde. It's an image of openness and truth that stays with me even now, despite the fact I have only seen the film once.

The Latest Misfire

Why has this summer movie season been such a disappointment?

#17 (Male Performances in Review 2000-2004)

What a marvelous performance this is by Campbell Scott, who is so immersed in the world of this unsympathetic cad and - more importantly - unconcerned with making him lovable or even likable. So impressively sturdy are the words of Dylan Kidd's screenplay that Scott wisely avoids acting towards any redemption and instead is marvelously always in the moment, in the now. Roger Dodger is a rather fantastic movie on its own terms (it has simply improved with time), but it is impossible to imagine it hitting the same highs without the talents of Scott in the lead. Without his cutting sense of humour and sardonic quips, the film would have significantly lacked the same degree of "bite". Jesse Eisenberg, Jennifer Beals and Elizabeth Berkley (of Showgirls infamy) all deliver appealing, capable performances, but I'm convinced that it is Scott who keeps them on their toes, drawing out their very best efforts. Scott is an actor who I love to watch, mostly because I can observe him thinking out his character motivations. He clearly experiences and processes them, as opposed to going through the motions to get to the next plot shift. Particularly in this film, you can see the inner machinery running smoothly, fitting pieces together and formulating a fool-proof offensive. Just like Eisenberg's Nick, we are in awe of this man's flirtatious sway over women, and amazed at how he has his formula down to an exact science. Scott is magnetic in this film; his Roger is suave and alluring on the exterior, but bitter and alienated on the inside. Scott's challenge in this film is to let us experience these sides of his complex character without making us aware of such exposure. And - even more difficult - humanize Roger in spite of his appalling behaviour in influencing his impressionable nephew. Without a doubt, Scott brilliantly succeeds in every regard.

Delays

Once again, I'd like to apologize for the lack of updates recently; the last few days have been a whirlwind of wedding events, completing errands and various family obligations. I'll certainly have a lot to write about my trip once I get back: I simply require the distance (both physical and mental) to put my thoughts and emotions into perspective. There are still eleven days in Dubai to go, and a lot more work and attention is pending. The consensus on my vacation so far is mostly good, with some fantastic moments, and others not so much. Anyways, I digress... #17 on the list should be coming up soon for those who are interested.

By the way, thanks to you all for the birthday wishes. It was the first one celebrated outside of Canada since 1992, so that was an interesting experience. How does 22 feel, you must be thinking? Not any different than 21. There you have it, make of it what you will.

I really want to go see Pirates of the Caribbean 2 while I'm here, but I'm afraid the censors will delete that much-hyped kiss between Keira Knightley and Johnny Depp (yeah, you read that right). What to do, what to do?

Dubai

Well, I've been here for four days now, and it's still hard to wrap my mind around that fact. It is both exciting and disturbing to revisit certain childhood places, now through the eyes of an adult. I'm not sure why - perhaps it's the fact that the passage of time becomes all the more felt. The city has changed considerably - it's now very much oriented towards presenting tourists with an exoticized, idealized version of the Middle East. It was like that when I was here, but it's like I've entered a world where very extreme polarities are mixing together without problem. Last night, my cousins and I went to a high-end hotel for some drinks, and it was like being an entirely different country altogether. All the services were being performed by migrant workers, and it was uncomfortable being in the place of a privileged traveler. I guess taking South Asian Studies and Women and Gender Studies courses is the reason why - it's a very strange feeling. I suppose this experience isn't any different than one I would have in any other country which depends heavily on Western/European interest. Anyways, I'm still having a wonderful time; it's not like I've been trying to behave like a know-it-all Canadian university student eager to deconstruct everything and catch politically incorrect statements. Ugh.

The heat is so intense that it's virtually impossible to walk outside in the daytime: try it, and you'll be drenched within minutes (read: seconds). We spend mornings and afternoons inside, and when the evening comes around, that is when we venture outside. Nighttime is only somewhat better in this regard, although the humidity is just as lethal. Morning hours (from around midnight to six a.m.) are the best times to take strolls or go running. My family is having a great time bonding, and a wedding always creates an atmosphere of excitement and anticipation. We've been eating out every night (the food is ridiculously cheap here), and so far I've had fantastic Gujurati, Lebanese and Pakistani dishes. It's good enough to make you want to move here. For the rest of the time, I've been sight-seeing (my camera SD cards are filling up everyday), shopping (oh dear), eating (of course) and trying to get LSAT preparation squeezed into whatever hours are left.

I have to apologize for my awful Benicio Del Toro write-up; it was done hurriedly in a packed internet cafe at two in the morning. I will try to post another one in the next day or so, but if not, please forgive me. I am too busy sleeping or fighting off the furious gaze of the sun.

As for more movie talk, on the plane ride(s) over, I watched 16 Blocks (well, five minutes of it before losing interest), Failure to Launch, and Philadelphia. None of them were anything to write home about. At the airport, I lucked out and got a two-pack of the Dardenne Brothers' Rosetta and L'Enfant for about 20 dollars (after conversion). Ridiculous! It's region two, of course, but my computer is not discriminating in this regard.

Hmm, what else? I wish I could post pictures, but the computers here won't really accept my memory cards. I'm starting to miss my HP Pavilion, which had those card slots so conveniently mounted on the front panel. It is, of course, still in the computer shop back in Unionville (my mother is keeping me updated). Le sigh. Hope you're all well, and I'll write more later!

#18 (Male Performances in Review 2000-2004)

Benicio Del Toro may have won an Oscar for his rich, affable work in Traffic, but in 21 Grams, he performs something of a small miracle, and that is single-handedly raise a film from utter and total negation despite having all the odds stacked against him (a director focusing on all the wrong elements, gimmicky editing that enhances nothing, a morose self-important screenplay, and so much more). In fact, Del Toro is the sole reason I return to this film at all, and each time I walk away from it with a new appreciation for his portrayal of Jack Johnson, a man holding on to life only through his unbreakable faith. Del Toro plays him as a man who is elated at having discovered the true purpose of his life (that is, to serve and perpetuate the message of Christ, his savior). He is so confident in his belief that he places his family, his work and everything else behind this commitment to worship. He passionately preaches (intimidatingly so) to anyone he can find, even if they want to hear him out or not. The errors and contradictions of his behaviour are obvious to everyone else but him (consider the mixed message he sends to his children, asking his daughter to "turn the other cheek", and then in turn lashing out against his son). But when he is forsaken by this benevolent God, Johnson finally snaps under the pressure of encountering one tragedy after the other. Del Toro is searing as this broken man, resembling a member of the undead - he walks among the living, but his humanity is robbed, his spirit extinguished. When confronted by his priest for having lost his faith, Del Toro is astounding in how he replies. "This is hell" he rasps softly, tapping his head before exploding "I did everything He asked me to do!". When I think of 21 Grams, that scene immediately registers, and I marvel at Del Toro's intensity, frustration and sadness. Jack is desperately confused at his place in the world now; having rejected spiritual guidance, he is nothing. Although the film is about loss, Del Toro is the only person who really seems to understand what he is exploring.

P.S. - This has nothing to do with Del Toro, but I am horrified - horrified - and appalled that Six Feet Under was snubbed for an Emmy nomination for Best Drama Series (in place of what? I'm a fan of Grey's Anatomy, but even I admit it's feel-good trash). At least they had the good sense of recognizing Peter Krause, Frannie Conroy, Patricia Clarkson and Joanna Cassidy, along with Alan Ball for writing/directing. I will end with my regular FYC push for Conroy - if she loses for Best Actress, I will crawl into bed and never emerge from it, lamenting how stupid and lame the world is. That is all.

#19 (Male Performances in Review 2000-2004)

I am having an inkling that this is the moment, right here, in which I lose a lot of you dear readers. Admittedly, comedian Jack Black is the kind of personality who is best enjoyed in very small doses. Before seeing his work in Richard Linklater's The School of Rock, I was not a big fan (to put it lightly). In a lot of his work, he goes too far, resembling an only slightly-less manic Jim Carrey; the end result is either blisteringly funny or abominably irritating. But Linklater clearly understands these respective strengths and weaknesses of his lead actor, and allows Black to channel his ferocious energies into a more approachable manner to his character. Make no mistake, this is still Jack Black, the obnoxious loud-mouth you hate to love. But he is also the hero of this story, much more human and thusly, a lot more accessible. Lazy, irritable, selfish, yet also responsible and loving when the time comes, I adore Dewey Finn because I see so much of myself and others reflected in him. I find it rather telling that Bridget Jones and Dewey Finn are two of my favorite screen characters in recent years - it is about time leads of romances and comedies are a little more flawed, plump and screwed-up than their bland counterparts. Detractors may argue that this is merely a variation on Black playing himself, and Linklater reigns him in only slightly so. To this, I say that while elements of his celebrity remain, Black is still acting nonetheless, as opposed to relying solely on that persona. He plays it up, and then builds on it. On the other hand, his Mr. Finn is not the equivalent of the saintly Mr. Keating played by Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society. If that teacher was unorthodox in his approach to instruction, Finn is positively reconstructionalist. He vents his frustrations in the classroom, massaging his wounded ego with a rocking ode to himself because he was kicked out of his band. Furthermore, he actually goes out of his way to undermine the children's confidence ("Give up, just quit, because in this life, you can't win... because the world is ruled by The Man"). Finn's deception of his students, their parents and the school principal (a phenomenal turn by Joan Cusack) is pretty despicable. But they all come to gain as much from him as he does from lying to them. Consider how Finn offers the kids an education through the joy of music, playing with math and training them in rock trivia. Even in those inspirational moments which could dangerously veer into shmaltz, Black is there to kick the film back on track ("I like to eat! Is that such a crime?"). Indeed. I salute you, Mr. Black, with a raise of my "goblet of rock". I would attend your school anyday.

Apologies...

So, my dear readers... unsurprisingly, my HP Pavilion has crashed on me again, for the fourth time in about eleven months (bought in late July of last year). I'm really past the point of feeling frustration. As soon as I started hearing those strangled clicks and faltering beeps and encountering familiar blue screens, I started to pack up the lemon to send over to Futureshop (equivalent of Best Buy or similarly-themed technology shop) for repair. Hard drive crashes have become a part of my everyday life now, very much like having to visit the dentist for a clean-up or taking in your car for servicing. The only "good" news is that because of the extended warranty plan I have, if the computer so much as sneezes after this repair, I get a brand-new one. What I fear is the same thing happening all over again, since I get the same model; I'm considering asking for a Mac (although I doubt the plan allows for exchanges). Whatever, technology hates me, I hate technology. I am so looking forward to re-installing everything on my desktop, from iTunes to Anti-virus programs (snort). Hurrah.

The bad news is that I am mostly computer-less for the next few days (my mother, brother and I must share the old Dell we have - it barely has ten gigabytes on it), and the countdown has lost all momentum. Plus, I leave for Dubai on Tuesday, so the list may be in a little bit of limbo for the next few weeks. I will do everything I can to post whatever I can for the next few days, but if not, please forgive me for leaving you all in suspense (hah! all five of you that read this... but I appreciate your involvement).

Off to pack!

#20 (Male Performances in Review 2000-2004)

I suppose this is my equivalent of Javier's unexpected (but most welcome) inclusion of Toni Collette on his list for The Hours; I posit here that Kevin Bacon gave the best performance in Mystic River's powerhouse ensemble. Yes, it is not a showy submission (a la Penn, Robbins and Harden), nor does Bacon's character have the benefit of a sly, shockeroo twist coming his way (see Linney's Lady Macbeth monologue). In short, he has minimal time and space to make an impression, especially with so many actors making Oscar-bids around him. And yet, watching him softly and wholeheartedly support everyone else - all the while quietly experiencing a tragedy of his own - is like watching a different film entirely. Make no mistake, I am not attempting to disparage the other actors in Mystic River, who are stunning in their portrayals. As well, perhaps many would rather I turn to Bacon's work in The Woodsman to shower hosannas (as well they should - Bacon is so very underrated: still nomination-less!), but something about him here in this film always has me looking back over my shoulder. Consider how Bacon nails every one of those difficult scenes on the phone with his wife, never resorting to hammy dramatics and doing his best to remain composed despite the fact he is surely breaking down inside ("Yeah, nice talkin' to you too"). He is frustrated by her silence, yet he depends on them to give him some degree of sustenance and comfort (to his partner: "She calls all the time"). And then there's the scene where he is shown the resting place of Katie Markum's body, and the hardened way it all registers ("What the fuck am I going to tell him?"). Watch carefully at his eyes while Jimmy grows increasingly desperate outside for an answer ("Is that my daughter in there, Sean?") with a fatigued visage, unable offer any befitting response. It's a stunning moment. And recall that final, ambiguous gesture when he aims at Jimmy, determined to bring him down (and let him know about it). Underplaying every "big" moment with the confidence of a seasoned pro, I love this performance because it is so solid and lived-in. It defines "supporting". With all respect to Tim Robbins, who I greatly admire as an actor (especially in this film), he should hand over his statuette to Bacon.

#21 (Male Performances in Review 2000-2004)

In his Oscar-nominated turn in The Fellowship of the Ring, Ian McKellen disappears so completely into the role of two-thousand-year-old Gandalf the Grey, it is difficult to believe he is giving a performance. It is, excuse the hyperbole, an inhabitation; from the moment he appears riding his wagon-of-tricks, McKellen carries the full weight, power and grace of a noble wizard. Clad in drab robes and a pointed hat (which would look, let's face it, ridiculous on any other actor), Gandalf nevertheless is a character that is instantly accessible: McKellen plays him as the kind, tender caretaker that all of us would love to have watch over us. Over the course of Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy, he plays several roles: the wise old man, the father figure, the fellowship leader and - in his resurrection as Gandalf the White - graceful (read: kick-ass) warrior. But for me, it is in the first film that McKellen gives the most winsome and formative potrayal of this old soul, rejuvenating a familiar archetype. Despite the fact I knew going into the film that Gandalf would die (thus fulfilling the arch of the old wise man in fantasies), the scene still struck me in the gut. It is quite the achievement to stand out in such a stellar ensemble cast, but McKellen proves himself utterly and totally invested in this world. From wistfully smoking his pipe with long-time friend Bilbo Baggins to ferociously defending his clan from the Balrog in the Mines of Moria ("You... shall not... pass!"), McKellen keeps offering various shades to his character. His Gandalf is not always smiles and winks, but is stern and wholly uncompromising when the time arises. Equal parts dependable buddy and protective parent, McKellen's Gandalf is the kind of character you would hope to encounter one day in real life.

#22 (Male Performances in Review 2000-2004)

In my review for Mysterious Skin a couple of months ago, I complained that the role of the druggie hustler looking for genuine love has become something of a tired cliché. In recent years, actors such as Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Kevin Zegers (who was Transamerica's MVP) have thankfully managed to avoid monotony and familiarity in their acting. But in Jacob Tierney's little-seen 2003 Twist, a gloomy and complex update of Oliver Twist by Dickens, Nick Stahl gives my favourite take on the character. Stahl has always struck me as a most generous actor; in all of his screen appearances, from the serene and endearing son in 2001's In the Bedroom to his unexpected involvement in T3: Rise of the Machines of all places, he is always willing to let his fellow thespians shine instead of greedily chasing the spotlight himself. This is perhaps why he remains so undervalued in the industry (a turn as a murderous pedophile in the despicable Sin City hardly counts as a quality gig); perhaps his dedication and egolessness is mistaken for blending into the background. In Twist, however, Stahl is mesmerizing and at the forefront as "Dodge" (The Artful Dodger), a male prostitute who regularly uses heroin in order to escape his situation. He does not take the slightest bit of pleasure in scoring tricks; rather, he does his best to avoid them, which in turn enrages his abusive pimp. Dodge is so desperate to avoid work that he regularly scouts the streets for boys willing to join the trade in his place. The performance is free of histrionics and calculation; interstingly, Stahl seems to get quieter and smaller as the film winds down to its devastating conclusion. Note the way he walks, hands crammed into his pockets and bracing the relentless severity of a harsh Toronto winter; he assumes a purpose and direction, but to where exactly? Dodger seems to realize that for all his attempts to escape, he simply brings himself closer to his own annihilation. As his world comes crashing down on him, with the arrival of an estranged family member and the death of a close friend, Stahl literally defines hopelessness and suffocating oppression. The film is an extremely unpleasant affair, and I respect it for not turning its gaze away from the sickening realities of the exploitive sex trade. But it is clearly Stahl who deserves much of the credit for making the film work as well as it does; if only all films could be blessed with so much conviction and willingness on the part of the leading actor. On a side note, I am glad that this little-seen effort managed to score Stahl a Genie nomination for Best Actor (equivalent of Oscar in Canada); Twist also scored another three nods.

#23 (Male Performances in Review 2000-2004)

A Home at the End of the World, an adaptation of Michael Cunningham's novel of the same name, is a woeful wreckage of a film. It is not so much a "bad" effort as it is utterly flat as a piece of cinema; the thing just sits there, plodding through its plot points and suffering from a terminal lack of personality. But the only reason I did not regret plunking down cash on a pricey evening show was the presence of Colin Farrell in the lead, portraying the lovelorn Bobby. Second to perhaps only Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears in receving regular thrashings by the media, Farrell has been (unfairly, I believe) maligned for his personal life as well as his apparent lack of acting chops. Whatever his actions off-screen, I would have detractors take a look at this astounding performance before writing him off altogether (as well as his gorgeous work in Malick's The New World), because it's a keeper. While his co-stars either confusedly flounder about (Robin Wright-Penn) or feign investment (Dallas Roberts) in relation to their characters, it is Farrell who places the weight of the film entirely upon his shoulders. His wide-eyed terror at the possibility of testing unknown waters is not the least bit questionable, because Farrell invests him with such a gentle, susceptible spirit. He is so enchanting because we, along with him, see the world with new eyes and feel deep-seated ambivalence toward drastic change in life. Farrell plays him like a lost little boy who has never been able to grow up, who is unable to understand why the nature of relationships (especially those that are romantic and sexual in nature) change so quickly. Bobby's fluid sexuality is an element many other actors would have botched, needing to define or play him in a certain way. Farrell's Bobby is simply open to love, accepting it from any person because he was so starved for affection as a child. It's a fully rounded characterization, and an effort that should have received more attention than it did during awards season. At the very least, it's a much better performance than the movie it is featured in deserves.

#24 (Male Performances in Review 2000-2004)

Don Cheadle is such a gifted, transformative actor, capable of re-inventing himself in fantastic ways, which thusly makes me wonder why it has taken him so long to be acknowledged as one of Hollywood's most dependable talents. From the sarcastic, back-talking heister in the Ocean's Eleven films to the wary-yet-committed social worker in The United States of Leland, it is difficult to believe that the same performer inhabits both those characters so masterfully. What is even more impressive is that he makes those transitions (and in all the screen work he has done) so pronounced without the help of prosthetics or other "look-at-me" gimmickry. As for Hotel Rwanda: I still am grappling with my feelings towards the film overall (I certainly like it, but am unsure to what degree), but one element I have no qualms with is the quality and passion of Cheadle's lead performance. As hotel manager Paul Rusesabagina, who was able to prevent the slaughter of over one thousand persecuted Tutsis during the 1994 Rwandan Massacre, Cheadle's heart and soul are literally on display throughout the film's running time - it is a shattering thing to witness. The performance transcends mimicry; rather, Cheadle attempts to hit at the essence of the man, rather than presenting him as a thinly-sketched sacrificing saviour, free of flaws. Hotel Rwanda's Rusesabagina is fully human and therefore imperfect, confronted with the most depressing of circumstances. His dilemma is essentially no-win from every side, and Cheadle portrays the indecision, pain and sadness of this man perfectly. In 2005, he was nominated for an Academy Award in the Lead Actor category. While his four competitors were merely adequate in their films, Cheadle was the only one in my mind whose work came close to "award-worthy" status, no contest. He should have won it.

#25 (Male Performances in Review 2000-2004)

In Arnaud Desplechin's intriguing soap-opery-but-surprisingly-not-trite Kings and Queen, Emmanuelle Devos's Nora and her relationships with the several men in her life may serve as the film's main thrust, but it is Mathieu Amalric as her emotionally unstable ex that steals the show, the stage, and even the chair you're sitting on. Thrown into a mental institution on suicide watch at the behest of his frustrated sister, Ismaël argues against, pleads with and finally attacks various members of staff, completely at a loss as to why he is being held against his will. The amazing feat of Amalric's performance is he convinces us that he is the lone sane person on-screen and all the people around him are behaving irrationally and without just cause, despite the fact that his character is a very sick man. I was in gleeful stitches watching the furious, embittered Ismaël sputter and rave at his non-plussed parents, or when he tries to justify to his sister why he sent her Christmas presents in July. Amalric is also very adept at capturing his character's manic, mile-a-minute thought process, and demonstrates how his past relationships with women have utterly soured his view of the female gender. This does not stop Ismaël , however, from contemplating having a tryst with a willing, interested patient in the hospital (Amalric plays beautifully against her, weighing the pros and cons of the situation). Perpetually horny, confused and all-the-while frazzled by his present situation, Amalric is fascinating to look at as he navigates his way through the dilemma at hand. It's a high-wire, loopy exercise, but Amalric always makes sure to humanize the man, so there is no danger of caricature or chewing the scenery. This is the genius of his work; it is hysterical, intelligent comedy, but grounded in a subtle truth about heartache, betrayal and illness that is visible in his body language. His interaction with his would-be son during the film's final moments is a tender, moving scene that does not resort to mawkish sentimentality. In a picture filled top to bottom with astounding acting efforts, it may be the film's best performance.

Top 25 Male Performances 2000-2004

"Oh good grief!" You are likely throwing up your hands by now and asking why I would add my voice to the multitude of acting list countdowns happening right now. Glenn just wrapped up his take on the best 100 performances so far this decade, while both Javier and Nathaniel are in the midst of their Top 25 Female Performances 2000-2004 and Actors of the Aughts lists respectively. Well, in a conversation with Javier, he generously offered to help me out with my creative blog-related dry spell by planning a countown of the best female performances (00-04) concurrently. While it would have been fun to compare notes, I was wishwashy on the idea and reluctant to invest myself in such a demanding project. But as the weeks passed by, I decided that it was necessary to keep myself occupied with such an ambitious task. But instead of totally stealing his idea, I wondered a similarly-structured list would fare with male actors. Frankly, it was not as exciting compiling this list as it was for these actors' female counterparts; while I could come up with more than eighty commendable performances by actresses easily, it took me hours to even hit the fifty mark with the boys. Why that is, I cannot say, although this does not take away from the fantastic performances featured on my roster.

Initially, it was difficult not to credit some of the performances on display from last year (Heath Ledger would have easily broken the top ten, if not the top five), until I realized that it was only because those efforts were fresher in my mind. To ready myself for the list, I opened up some DVDs to browse through some titles to see whether these performances were as good (or as awful) as I remembered them being. Indeed, some of my early favourites have fallen from grace (I'm not sure I even like some of them anymore, let alone love) while others that I took for granted or overlooked before now just play better with the passing of time. It will be interesting to revisit all these roles through this list, and explain why I feel that they deserve placement in such a competitive, limited lineup. I know there will be a lot of opposition to some of my choices, especially in comparison to who I left out, but arguing is half the fun I suppose. I look forward to all your thoughts, and feel free to call me crazy for my choices (although back up your opinions!).

As for the schedule, I am sad to say that the list might not be completed by the time I leave for Dubai (July 4th), although I will try my best. I would continue the list from there, but my cousin's parents do not use the internet, and I'd have to visit internet cafés regularly. And seeing as I'm on vacation, sitting in front of a computer would probably be a waste considering the sight-seeing I could be doing. Not that I do not cherish all of you, the few readers that find my blog halfway interesting... but... really now.

The "Rules":
1. Actors are limited to only one spot each on the list; for example, do not expect to see Jude Law and Jim Broadbent mentioned more than once, despite them having performed brilliantly in multiple films since 2000. I feel this is only fair to the other actors who, for various reasons, have not been working as often or are not particularly high-profile talents in their industries.
2. No ties are allowed (unfortunately - you know how fond I am of using them). I have to restrict myself this time around lest things get out of hand. 25 Performances = 25 Performances. EDIT: (December 31st: My apologies, but I've had to let this rule go. Damn my poor planning!)
3. I will go by IMDB release dates to save myself distribution confusion; so even though a film may have released internationally in 2005, it still might have premiered at a festival or opened in the country of production in 2004.
4. Even though this is a list of fifty performances, I will only be writing capsules on the first twenty-five selections. Do you want this list to go on until November? I didn't think so.
5. Obviously, the list is not set in stone, and the hierarchy is not meant to be taken very seriously; the difference in my regard for one performance listed at #6 and one at #29 is miniscule. Rankings after, say, the first ten are pretty arbitrary (then again, isn't this whole list?).

1-25: [subject to tinkering]

1. Haley Joel Osment, A.I. Artificial Intelligence
2. Tom Wilkinson, In the Bedroom
3. Dan Futterman, Urbania
4a. Ralph Fiennes, Spider
4b. Ed Harris, Pollock
5. Mark Ruffalo, You Can Count on Me
6. John Cameron Mitchell, Hedwig and the Angry Inch
7. Gael Garcia Bernal, Bad Education
8. Ryan Gosling, The Believer
9. Jude Law, I Heart Huckabees
10. Naseeruddin Shah, Monsoon Wedding
---
11. Paul Giamatti, Sideways
12. Adrien Brody, The Pianist
13. Jim Broadbent, Iris
14. Ewan McGregor, Moulin Rouge!
15. Ethan Hawke, Before Sunset
16. Scott Mechlowicz, Mean Creek
17. Campbell Scott, Roger Dodger
18. Benicio Del Toro, 21 Grams
19. Jack Black, The School of Rock
20. Kevin Bacon, Mystic River
21. Ian McKellen, The Fellowship of the Ring
22. Nick Stahl, Twist
23. Colin Farrell, A Home at the End of the World
24. Don Cheadle, Hotel Rwanda
25. Mathieu Amalric, Kings and Queen

#6 [tie] (Film in Review 2005)

Every year, after assembling and putting to rest my top ten for what transpired cinematically during the previous twelve-month calender, I always encounter a film released during that same time-frame that sends me back to the drawing board. Back in March, I knew I would regret counting down my 2005 list without having screened Jean-Marc Vallée's C.R.A.Z.Y. (#6 - tie); clearly, I should have listened to myself and sought out the film immediately. The film, which tracks the highs and (mostly) lows of a Québécois family from 1960 to the early '80s, was the most honoured Canadian film released last year (it won a whopping 11 Genies). Aside from the frustrating task of having to now assign it a placement somewhere on this already jam-packed list, I am quite pleased to have finally encountered and embraced this magical, immensely personal treat. Although I have often stated that Noah Baumbach's The Squid and the Whale hit home harder than any other last year (Ali = Frank), this one is perhaps even more reflective of my life. In fact, watching the opening moments - in which a young, sensitive Zachary is chastised and belittled by his terrified father for behaving like a "fairy" - was akin to watching an eerie recreation of my childhood. It was not altogether a pleasant experience, although C.R.A.Z.Y. is thankfully not all morose and self-pitying as a coming-of-age story. In fact, like Baumbach's film, director Jean-Marc Vallée is always eager to present the flipside of the situation, unearthing macabre hilarity behind the sadness and family breakdown. Furthermore, C.R.A.Z.Y. thankfully foregoes exploring Zachary's formative years exclusively by way of his confused sexual identity, but through various lenses (religion, notions of proper masculine behaviour, nationality, the evolution of music and more).

Aside from the added layers of reading Zachary's relationship with his father in a national context (Quebec in relation to Canada as a whole), the film is just fun overall. Vallée's approach is anything but muted or straightforward; rather, he infuses the frame with a vibrant colour palette, including fantastic fantasy sequences and rich musical numbers. Indeed, the film's soundtrack is one of its many pleasures, presenting Bowie and Pink Floyd in a manner that makes them feel new and alive, as if one was hearing the tracks for the first time. The screenplay, also by Vallée, is inventive and witty (surprising, considering the familiar subject matter); although it occasionally falls back on a contrived moment here or there, such missteps are easily forgivable. Why? Because overall, C.R.A.Z.Y. is such a glorious, superbly-crafted ride. Like the best films about family, there are no attempts to gloss over pain and guilt, or (on the other hand) superficially tackle grief and resentment. It is interesting how my favourite films of 2005 all focus around the family - The Best of Youth, A History of Violence, The Squid and the Whale, Pride and Prejudice - in all their charms and flaws. This film beautifully encapsulates how we all function in relation to our loved ones: family members often drive us a little "crazy", but would we really trade them for anyone else? Because sometimes, they often surprise us with a display of love and acceptance we never thought possible...

I like Fresca.

Yes, I am alive. There are many reasons why my blog has been rather neglected over the past weeks, but I don't think any of them are interesting enough to list here. Mostly, I think I burnt out after the 2005 Top Ten countdown, and it was difficult for me to get back into my film critic groove. To make up for this, I have been diligently spending time in front of the television and at the movie theatre, soaking in what 2006 has to offer. In regards to the non-film aspects of my life, I've been enjoying my summer break so far, trying to get fit (a 30-minute run everyday, with weight training thrown in there somewhere) and studying for the LSAT like a good, dedicated student. Some more good news is that I will be traveling to Dubai (in the United Arab Emirates) during the month of July to attend my cousin's wedding. I'm not really thrilled about flying in the wake of recent events here in Canada, and with a name like mine (snort), but it will be great to get away from North America for a while. I spent four years of my life in Dubai, so it will be exciting to re-visit certain family members and memorable places, only now as an adult.

Also, I am happy to report to those of you who are aware of my Diet Coke addiction that I have finally overcome it. I've now switched to ingesting ridiculous amounts of Fresca, which is probably the best drink in the world (no hyperbole here). Those of you who are saying "duh" should know that it's a drink primarily available in the U.S., and is hard to come across even across the border. Granted, neither beverage is particularly good for you (cancer-causing aspartame), but at least I am avoiding teeth stains and overdoses of caffeine. Aren't you all proud of me? Baby steps, people.

Oh, one more thing. Time to gloat. I suppose all those all-nighters and hours commuting back and forth to campus were worth it:

ENG253Y1 World Lit in Eng 1.00 88 A
ENG328Y1 Fiction 1900 - 1960 1.00 88 A
NEW326Y1 Indenture, Survival 1.00 82 A-
POL320Y1 Modern Pol Thought 1.00 80 A-
RLG280Y1 Compar World Rels 1.00 92 A+
G.P.A. - 3.88 (Grr.)

X3 - The Last Stand (Brett Ratner, 06) D+ [The majority of this movie's plot turns has largely faded from my memory, which should give a strong indication of how weightless and inept it is at story-telling overall. As noted before, I'm not an ardent fan of the X-Men film saga (B, B- respectively), but this third installment marks a signficant drop in quality. Brett Ratner, who has received a lot of flak for assuming control over the project following Brian Singer's departure, does a fine job continuing the look and feel of this superhero universe. However, he fails at weaving together a coherent narrative and believable three-dimensional characters. Bluntly put, the film, for all its "big" moments and attempts at seriousness (three major characters bite the dust... or maybe not), makes no impact whatsoever. Of course, a little depth would be too much to ask for, considering the sequel crams in several new characters it cannot accomodate, and attempts to adapt the Dark Pheonix saga into a few poorly-written scenes. I must admit that one or two scenes clicked - namely Mystique's tragic end ("She was so beautiful.") and Famke Jansenn's tortured intensity, but that was pretty much all that impressed this cranky critic. The film wears its subtext on its sleeve ("No needle shall ever touch my skin again."), and makes a major, offensive misstep by portraying rebellious mutants (representing society's outcasts) as tatoo-covered, body-pierced punks. The writing is even worse; from Wolverine and Scott's woefully obvious exchange ("I know how you feel" ... "Don't!") to the "furball" jabs directed at The Beast (Kelsey Grammer, doing his best to save the film), every line is a groan-inducing flub. X Men 3 has no heart, no complexity and often makes little sense (ice-skating when the apocalypse is imminent?). For all their flaws, the first two films at least hinted at greatness from time to time; this one just drools all over itself. Notice how I avoided mentioning Halle Berry? That was intentional.]

The Da Vinci Code (Ron Howard, 06) C+ [It may be the backhanded compliment of the year, but this is one of Ron Howard's better films, smarter than usual and (for the most part) impressively constructed. Based on Dan Brown fictional novel (those who are offended by the text and film, please repeat this sentence several times), the film posits a history very different than the one told in the accepted gospels. The plot overall (a newly-found discovery followed by endless chase across European city, repeat ad nauseum) is less-than-engaging, but the wildly fascinating backstory about the development of the church following Christ's death really holds the ludicrous proceedings together. Whatever you think about Brown's fanciful theories, whether as a churchgoer or not, they must be lauded as a fantastic way of re-considering Christianity and the man (and woman?) behind it (which is no doubt why so many people are threatened by it). For about two-thirds of the film's running time, Howard maintains a gripping pace, using the Louvre, the streets of Paris and monastaries as dark, menacing abodes. But then it all becomes a little much - to say that the last half-hour is anti-climatic would be understating matters; this is where Howard begins his trademark audience pacification, driving home the point repeatedly. Still, that was not enough to sour the film overall; I actually enjoyed it a lot more than my final grade may indicate. The cast does solid work, with "best of" honours unsurprisingly going to Paul Bettany, who is fully committed to the intimidating, self-hurting Silas character. The rest of the cast - Tom Hanks (nicely understated), Audrey Tatou and Ian McKellen - are all well-suited to their parts.]

District B13 (Pierre Morel, 04) A- [Forget X-Men, forget Da Vinci. This is the definitive movie-going experience of the summer, a popcorn fluff piece with blockbuster payoff, but ambitiously brainy all the same. Set in 2010, in a dystopian Paris where impoverished neighborhoods have been sectioned off by towering walls from the affluent sections of the city, two men attempt to infiltrate the crime-rampant District B13. One is a cop who is ordered to locate and diffuse a dangerous bomb, while the other is along for the ride to rescue his sister from a corrupt drug lord. Employing parkour stunts (a phenomenon initiated by David Belle - who actually stars in the film - that involves jumping and climbing over buildings and other obstacles in an urban environment), the film is an absolute spectacle of action sequences and visual effects. Apparently, only 10% of the stunts were achieved through wire-work; the rest were actually performed through parkour tricks. Even if the film was solely an exercise in eye candy, that would have been sufficient for a time-pass, but the film earns bonus points for being open to interpretation. Allusions to the Third Reich's ghettoization of Jewish individuals and the Holocaust are very clear, and the film's conflict is reminiscient of the tensions in Palestine/Israel. It's there if you look for it, but is clearly not necessary to enjoy all the treats this film has to offer in spades.]

The Proposition (John Hillcoat, 05) B-/C+ [I reserve the right to change my mind about this one after a second viewing, because I have the lingering feeling that I missed something the first time around. What I must say right off the bat is that this film features an absolutely stellar ensemble cast (that should be up for a SAG nod later next year, but that obviously won't happen). Hillcoat's film reminded me strongly of a novel I read this year called Remembering Babylon, by David Malouf. The book explored the experience of early settlers to Australia, and was attuned to the subterranean essence (native aboriginal culture) that ran underneath the guise of European "civility" established on the land. Similarly, The Proposition tells the story of how a police captain (Ray Winstone) attempts to capture a band of trouble-making brothers, and how he and all the characters around him are affected by this conflict. For the most part, the film is an effective, blood-soaked western that presents us with severely flawed and complex characters attempting to negotiate a strange and unfamiliar terrain. My complaints are mainly directed at the figure of Martha Stanley; although impeccably performed by Emily Watson, her character's inclusion is merely a way to hint at the vulnerability of Winstone's Stanley authority figure, and what will inevitably happen (a violent disturbance of the outside world into the safe domestic interior of their home). Also, the Darwinian reading literally spelled out by John Hurt's creepy wanderer pretty much kills what the film is suggesting through its writing and direction. These two elements really soured the overall experience for me, but the film is a welcome change of scenery from what is being offered at the multiplexes right now. Worth a look.]

Oh my Lord.

I will not make it to November.

BTW, sorry about the lack of updates. My hard drive crashed for the third time, and I am composing this short entry from my cousin's laptop. More reviews/thoughts to come once Futureshop returns my crappy desktop.

Most Anticipated Films of 2006 [Part Two]

The Top Fifteen continues...

10. Omkara (Vishal Bharadwaj)
At the 2003 Toronto Film Festival, I had the pleasure of viewing Bharadwaj's astounding Maqbool, a Hindi-language adaptation of Shakespeare's Scottish "cursed" play. I immediately jumped on the chance, because it is so rare to see South-Asian films included in the lineup, and also because the film featured Irfan Khan and Tabu in the lead roles (two of the best actors working in the industry today). What was so refreshing about the piece was that it was re-located in the present-day of the Mumbai mafia underworld, and used only three songs in the narrative (sparingly at that, mostly in the background). His latest, Omkara, sounds equally promising, although it does seem strange that he would choose another Shakespeare re-working so soon (it is based on Othello). Still, Maqbool was strong enough that I hold high hopes for this one, and it has a very ecclectic cast, featuring both Bollywood superstars as well as character actors that work outside the mainstream. Strangely enough, the film's title is still in flux; this is the first time in Indian cinema history that a director will let the public choose the title of his film; it's between Omkara, Isaak and O Re Saathi. Oookay.

9. Southland Tales (Richard Kelly)
Another Palme D'Or contender, this is another one that I am torn on; on one hand, it's about time that Kelly moves on from the Donnie Darko universe, but then again, I'm not sold on the cast (Sarah Michelle Gellar? Seann William Scott? Kevin Smith? The Rock?). What's more, I'm not thrilled about the overly-complex advance publicity Kelly has planned (the labyrinthian website, the prequel graphic novels, etc) - seems a bit much (can't the film stand on its own?). At the same time, the plot description is too kooky and promising to ignore, and it does feature my girl Miranda Richardson, who is always a treat (her cameo is The Hours is one of - if not utterly - my favorite performance(s) of that film). And with Darko, Kelly has demonstrated that he can deliver on very bizarre concepts, as well as present a very convincing background setting (the 80s in that film, 2008 here). All in all, it sounds like a film that will be discussed at length upon its release, and more importantly, one that will settle whether or not Kelly has more to offer than one knock-out.

8. Guru (Mani Ratnam)
If you know me well enough, you should know that I take a very avid interest in South Asian films (the countries in that area are my main area of study and interest). Ratnam is a director who primarily works in the Tamil-language industry, a dialect I am not familiar with. However, in the past few years, he's been dabbling in Bollywood as well; he dubbed his Bombay into Hindi, then made his first Hindi-language feature Dil Se.., which is a masterpiece in my eyes. (Incidentally, that film features the song "Chaiyya Chaiyya", which Spike Lee used to open and close this year's Inside Man). Guru is another foray into the same territory, which explores the ordeal of Partition, as seen through the eyes of young lovers. To be frank, I've had my fill of films made about the 1947 Independence (and most of them have been terrible), but at the same time, this is the first time Ratnam has done such a period piece. Plus, he has great talents in front of the camera including Aishwarya Rai (who does exceptionally well provided she has good directors helping her) and Vidya Balan (who gave my favorite female performance in an Indian film last year in Parineeta), as well as a fantastic production team: A.R. Rahman of Lord of the Rings (the musical) and Bombay Dreams fame will do the music, and Rajiv Menon will act as D.P.

7. Marie-Antoinette (Sofia Coppola)
My uneasiness with Lost in Translation notwithstanding, I do feel that Coppola is onto something big here with a subversive, rock-n-roll approach to the extravagant, much-disliked queen's life experience... although I suppose I have no way of knowing that this is her aim (the trailer certainly suggests as much). Plus, I actually do adore Kirsten Dunst the actor (I don't know about the person), and think she is quite an underrated talent in Hollywood (true, she lacks much range, but when she does hit her marks, she does so brilliantly [Coppola's own The Virgin Suicides, Bring it On, Interview with the Vampire]). Hell, I even loved that she took the Mary Jane character in a different direction in the Spider-Man films (a lot more human and vulnerable than the comic-book character). Anyways, the fact that Judy Davis has decided to make a small comeback of sorts with this film is good enough for me, and I am eager to see Jason Schwatzman on screen again after having a great acting renaissance (I Heart Huckabees, Shopgirl).

6. Dreamgirls (Bill Condon)
Not much to say here - I simply cannot wait to experience this spectacle (I am crossing my fingers that it shows up at TIFF this September, but I'm not holding my breath). Bill Condon directed one of the best of '98 (Gods and Monsters), and he also has experience adaptating a musical for the screen (I thought his Chicago screenplay was brilliant). I also am excited at the prospect of a fully mainstream Oscar-contender film that features a mostly African-American cast in all the leading roles. What's more, I have full faith Beyonce Knowles will pull this off (I must admit that I have not seen much of her acting work, although she was the lone bright spot in the latest - and hopefully last - hideous Austin Powers installment), and I am already predicting a Supporting Actress nomination for "American Idol" star Jennifer Hudson.

5. Volver (Pedro Almodóvar)
How would any list for 2006 (whether a "most anticipated" or "best of") be complete without mentioning Almodóvar's name? So far in my life, I have not encountered a film by my beloved Pedro that I have disliked, so Volver stands a good chance of making my top ten next year (All About My Mother, Talk to Her and Bad Education all did). And it almost seems like he's made this film for me (heheh), because I am so in the mood for a semi-comedic Pedro emotional rollercoaster with silly melodrama and bright colors (the trailer looks delicious enough to eat). I also love that this film has a supernatural twist to it, and although it seems like a strange Ghost Dad situation (except that this time, it's a mother who returns as a spirit), there's no doubt that this man will make it all work. How will he characterize the dimension of the afterlife, and how it co-exists with the material world? Will he extract a fabulous lead performance from the inconsistent Penelope Cruz? Will it fare well with Oscar? These are all questions that I can't wait to have answered...

4. For Your Consideration (Christopher Guest)
Once you get a taste for Guest's delicious mockumentaries, you are hooked for life, no two ways about it. Seriously, Guest should not even consider doing anything else in his career; none of his films feel the least bit repetitious or strained (namely because he is so genius at changing the milieu for each outing, and keeping the writing fresh and spontaneous). But this one is even more genius than I could have ever imagined - this is going to be absolute heaven for all of us who take a more-than-casual interest in awards season and all things Oscar. I am sure that Guest has some brilliant comments to make on the nature of campaigning and Acting with a capital "A". Can you imagine what the FYC ads will look like for this film, if the studio believes it has any chances at gold? *dies*

3. The Namesake (Mira Nair)
It is no secret that I have a obsessive "thing" for my Mira; the woman is my idol plain and simple. An incredibly intelligent (just listen to any of her DVD audio commentaries) soul, Mira's work makes fascinating observations into the South Asian experience, whether situated in modern-day "dot com" New Delhi (Monsoon Wedding), in 19th-century hierarchical English society (Vanity Fair) or in the NRI Diaspora (Mississippi Masala). It helps that she and I are both East-African Indians living in North America (well, she divides her time between here and other countries), and that her films address important themes as identity, notions of "home" and the writing of national history. With The Namesake, Mira tackles Jhumpa Lahiri's novel of the same name, which explores the life and times of an Indian family that moves to the United States in the 1960s. They become caught between honoring their tradition and the new ways of their geographical homeland, especially the young Gogol, who desires to assimilate. Irfan Khan and Tabu, who essayed the roles of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth in the aforementioned Maqbool film, join together again here as the dislocated married couple, and Kal Penn (who is now a well-known face thanks to the racial stereotype-skewing Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle) plays their son. Considering the film will speak directly to my life experience so far and also the talent involved behind and in front of the camera, I have no doubts that this will be one of my favorite movies of the year.

2. Little Children (Todd Field)
This is going to be my Oscar darling of the year; if Kate Winslet, Patrick Wilson and Todd Field do not get some serious love for their efforts here, I will trek across the continent to Hollywood and start a demonstration outside the Kodak theatre (any takers?). That is how confident I am of their potential this year, because: a) Winslet is one of the greatest actors working today and has been robbed every time she's been in contention for an Academy Award (except for Titanic), b) Wilson more than proved his worth in Angels in America, and c) Field delivered a flat-out masterpiece with In the Bedroom in 2001. That film was utterly shattering, and it consumed my thoughts for weeks after first seeing it (so much so that I ended up watching it two more times). This film, based on Tom Perrotta's book, is about unhappy individuals living the suburban dream (read: nightmare). I don't even care that the "suburbia is fucked up" theme has been so overdone in the past few years thanks to American Beauty; I am ready for more... More! I suppose one reservation I have is about Jennifer Connelly doing something dark and depressing (again!); she really needs to do something light and frothy.

1. The Fountain (Darren Aronofsky)
There is no way this list could not end with Aronofsky's hugely-anticipated opus, even with Field, Nair and Almodovar unveiling their potential masterpieces this year. In the years since its arrival, it has become popular to bash Requiem for a Dream for being too didactic and overstylized (I'm not of that opinion). Whatever one may think of that film, I believe that no one can deny Aronofsky's powerful visual style, and the signficance of how he and Jay Rabinowitz changed the way we think about editing today. Aside from the fact that it is a love story set across a period of one thousand years, I am keeping myself as clueless as possible about the film (does replaying the trailer over and over again count?). The overall look reminds me a lot of Tarsem Singh's The Cell, which was both a gripping horror/suspense film and a visual feast for the eyes. In addition to this, The Fountain also stars Hugh Jackman (who seems ready to dominate this year after wasting his time in a lot of crap) and the recently Oscar-ed Rachel Weisz as the lovers - that alone should have you counting down the days...

Most Anticipated Films of 2006 [Part One]

You don't have to say anything. I am perfectly aware that posting a list of this year's best-looking films is a little silly considering we are in the middle of May, considered by many to mark the start of the Summer Movie Season (heralded by the release [and flop] of the woefully-titled M:i:III). What's more, everyone else has already put in their two cents' worth, so why bother with a mostly similar-looking list? Good points, but in my defense, I must remind you all of the following: a) January to March, film-wise, are clearly not part of the new year, but dedicated to discussing the Awards Season of the prior year, and b) we all know the early crop of movies are largely forgettable fare. Now, with the Cannes Film Festival having just begun (with Ron Howard's much-anticipated [and apparently much-panned - yikes!] The Da Vinci Code adaptation), things are looking up for us film fanatics who live half our lives in the cinema halls or in front of our televisions.

Note: I do plan on having a non-film-related post soon enough about summer plans and the end of school, as well as a generous capsule review rundown.

First, the ones I am not looking forward to watching this year:

World Trade Center - No, I am not of the mind that it is way too early to discuss 9/11 in art, although it's certainly more tasteful in my mind to consider the events in a less direct manner than to dramatize the events in full, explicit detail. I was not a fan of the year's first film dealing with the tragedy, and as such, I cannot get my hopes up for this Oliver Stone-helmed picture. The trailer that has been floating around for the past few days (and that was officially released today) is even more suspicious-looking. I certainly hope Stone does not follow in the steps of Greengrass - delivering respectful and well-made filmmaking, but unwilling to ask difficult questions or add anything that would elevate the proceedings beyond shock recreation.

Flags of Our Fathers - It's not that I don't welcome any more films by Clint Eastwood or Paul Haggis, because I've certainly enjoyed (some) of their recent output. I am a big fan of Mystic River, and thought Haggis's adaptation of Million Dollar Baby had its strengths. It's a timing issue mostly. I am certainly not looking forward to seeing them both at year's Oscar ceremony, in contention for yet another mini-sweep, and for a WWII-film at that. *snore*

Superman Returns - I am of two minds here; on one hand, this could be the film that salvages Kevin Spacey's career (isn't his Lex Luthor just perfect casting) and present a superhero film worthy of matching Raimi's Spider-Man saga. Then again, it has the clueless Kate Bosworth as the leading lady (*snore* again), and Brandon Routh does not inspire confidence in me. Still, I will try to keep an open mind about this, but I will not be surprised at all if I end up hating it. Superman was never one of my favorite superheroes growing up.

Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna - Karan Johar is the most successful director working in Bollywood today, and IMHO, he's also one of the worst. He has built his career on sugary-sweet family dramas that shamelessly attempt to manipulate and push buttons (and made millions). He has since promised that this outing will be much darker, exploring marital infidelity, and within the South Asian Disapora in New York. I still don't trust him, because the latest plot synopsis makes the enterprise sound like a bad rip-off of 2004's Closer.

Babel - Alejandro González Iñárritu returns to his favorite subject (three-layered drama about different people brought together by tragic accidents - how original!) in this film that is in contention for the Palme D'Or this month. I will certainly see this for the cast (Cate Blanchett + Gael Garcia Bernal = j'adore), but I've hated everything this director has done with a passion.

In addition, All the King's Men (Sean Penn needs to tone it waaaaaaay down, from the looks of the Oscar-bait trailer), Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (Blaaaah - is this necessary?), A Scanner Darkly (Richard Linklater may have directed possibly the best film of the new milennium, but his Waking Life was a thankless affair, and this looks like more of the same), Umrao Jaan and Don (Bollywood runs out of Hollywood films to copy-cat, and turns to Hindi classics to desecrate).

Runner-ups (to the Most Anticipated):

Lady in the Water - Has M. Night Shyamalan learned his lesson? Early on during the pre-production of this film, it sure seemed like it. After all, he set about working on a subject completely at odds with his prior filmography (yes, the appearance of supernatural beings in our world is nothing new for him, but it seemed like he was going to put a fantastical, romantic spin on it). He insisted that there would be no trailer and to the surprise of all, it sounded as if the man's ego had been damaged enough by The Village's failure that his head was finally out of the clouds. Obviously, this humility did not last very long, because the publicity material is already plastered with his name in gigantic lettering, and statements like "A Bedtime Story" (WTF?) are abound. The most recent trailer is a lot less magical (Strange creatures! Spooks in the night! Run!), and seems like the trickster is back to his old ways. But then again, Paul Giamatti and Bryce Dallas Howard are starring, so that's enough to put my butt in the theatre seat opening day. But wary, I shall be...

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford - From the looks of the trailer, the promotional team at Warner Brothers would have you believe that Brad Pitt is the only person starring in this movie (Casey who?). I detest it when posters and ads leave out the rest of the ensemble to focus on only one or two actors to sell the film. I understand why it's like that, but the fact remains that the majority of the public will not know that the cast here includes Casey Affleck, Mary-Louise Parker (whee!), Zooey Deschanel, Sam Rockwell, Paul Schneider, Sam Shephard, and Ted Levine.

Fur - Okay, you've got me. The sole reason I have this down here is because it means a return to form for Nicole Kidman. After tolerating her in The Interpreter and gritting my teeth through her painful slapstick/overplay in The Stepford Wives and Bewitched, I finally get my chilly, cold and mentally disturbed Kidman back. The movie doesn't even have to please - I was less than thrilled with Jonathan Glazer's Birth, but bought the DVD just to re-live her performance whenever I could.

In addition, The Devil Wears Prada (Streep as a bitch? I'm so there, as I was for Death Becomes Her and She-Devil), Fast-Food Nation (I'm more excited by this Linklater effort, especially how he will create a narrative out of a non-fiction text), Inland Empire (I'm iffy on Lynch, but always willing to go in with an open mind), Notes on a Scandal (Blanchett and Dench doing what they do best), Provoked (Aishwarya Rai makes an Oscar bid), The Woods (a Patricia Clarkson starrer that has been lost in release date-limbo), A Prairie Home Companion (Altman and big casts always deliver), The Good German (I'm sick of Clooney, but I'm always up for Blanchett, who somehow manages to repell overexposure), Children of Men (Cuaron follows up Harry Potter), Goya's Ghosts (what's Milos Forman cooked up for us in his absence?), Zodiac (Gyllenhaal mania), Pan's Labyrinth (del Toro is one of the more interesting directors working today), and The Good Shephard (how will De Niro fare behind the camera?).

The Top Fifteen:

15. Margaret (Kenneth Lonergan)
Almost six years after garnering an Original Screenplay nod and making Laura Linney a household name with his masterpiece You Can Count on Me, Kenneth Lonergan pursues his sophomore project in this story about a young woman (Anna Paquin) who is devastated by witnessing a bus accident. I am confident that with Lonergan's writing talent, this film will give some great lines to chew on, but even more exciting is the chance that he will able to move Paquin away from her recent Lolita-esque cypher rut in The 25th Hour and The Squid and the Whale. Joining the party are You Can Count alumnus Mark Ruffalo (who is also screaming "Acting Makeover" after playing thankless love interests in 13 Going on 30 and Rumor Has It) and Matt Damon (who, like Blanchett, will be appearing in three different films this year).

14. The Prestige (Christopher Nolan)
After blowing my mind with the breathtaking Memento, Christopher Nolan has been kind of wasting his time with an adequate-but-pointless remake and a gloomy, joyless superhero re-vamp. Thankfully, this new project seems very much worth his time, and the fact that it stars two of the best actors working today (Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale) just adds to my anticipation. The film depicts a deadly rivalry that forms between two competing magicians in turn-of-the-century London. Sounds like a gorgeous film already, and I can already imagine the superb work by the technical team. Plus, the supporting cast is nothing to scoff at either - Andy Serkis, Scarlett Johansson (although she really needs to cut down her projects), David Bowie (!), and Michael Caine.

13. Running with Scissors (Ryan Murphy)
There's only one thing on everyone's mind regarding this film, and that's "Is this the film that will finally win Annette Bening her Oscar?". That and "Will Hilary Swank come around the corner again and steal the frontrunner status?". It certainly is a juicy role for Bening, but what concerns me is the fact that it's such a high-wire act, similar to what she did in all her nominated performances. Is it going to be too much? But regardless of Oscar potential, the film still sounds like a messy, over-the-top hoot. Great cast supporting the diva including Gwyneth Paltrow, Brian Cox, Joseph Fiennes, Evan Rachel Wood, Alec Baldwin, Patrick Wilson (aaah!). I have a feeling this will be the I Heart Huckabees of the year (same type of bizzare humor, terrific ensemble cast).

12. X3: The Last Stand (Brett Ratner)
I am not a big fan of this series, I have to admit right off the bat. There are just too many characters and subplots going on, and I prefer my main source of conflict to be much more personal and aimed at the individual (read: Spider-Man). But the arrival of this installment is promising for a couple of reasons - it's the final one (ups the stakes), it features the performance of Dark Phoenix (my favourite X-"Man" character) and has a heart-pounding trailer. Yes, it's directed by Brett Ratner, but I think he understands how much is riding on this film, and from the looks of it, he's done a solid job of taking over for Bryan Singer. Plus, I just have to see Kelsey Grammer as The Beast. Just perfect casting right there.

11. The Da Vinci Code (Ron Howard)
Believe you me, I'm just as surprised to see this film listed so high as you are. I have hated every single thing Ron Howard has directed (and that includes the overrated Apollo 13), and the quality of his work has deteriorated even more with the turn of the century. The fact that his grating chum Brian Grazer is in tow, as well as screenwriter Akiva Goldsman (who believes he has to overexplain everything in his work) is even more disturbing. I haven't read the book, nor do I care to. The advance word at Cannes has been damning on top of it all, so why do I care about this film? Because I feel that this mystery lends itself perfectly to a film medium - it will be nothing more than a empty-calorie "big" popcorn thrill ride, and I am in the mood for a summer film that is both entertaining and about more than explosions. I feel that Howard can deliver at least that. Plus, it has Alfred Molina, Audrey Tatou, Ian McKellen and Paul Bettany - that is worth something!

... and the top ten will be posted tomorrow. This has nothing to do with "unveiling" it as a surprise; it's just that I'm exhausted and can write no more.