That being said, a few disclaimers about this list. First, I haven't seen every movie from 2010 that I wanted to see, so this list is probably a fair bit incomplete. Second, there are some movies on this list that, I suppose, were technically made in 2009, but they didn't find their way into American theatres or VOD suppliers until 2010, so I'm cheating a bit. Third, I hate top 10 lists, so this isn't one of those. If the inclusion of more than 10 movies cheapens the list for you, I apologize. Fourth, there will be instances when a "The Dude Abides" movie doesn't make the list and something of a lesser rating (say, a "Far Fucking Out") does. Most of my movie reviews are written within an hour of my getting home from the theatre/shutting off the TV, so reviews of films like Machete are done in full-on sugar rush mode. Does that mean that Machete is a better film than I Am Love? Probably not, but one man's Citizen Kane is another man's Sucker Punch. Fifth, this list's particular order is by release date, so don't try to infer anything from placement. That being said...
I was one of a very small group of folks who enjoyed Judd Apatow's Funny People, and I suspect that I'm one of the few who really appreciates Greenberg, which takes a popular comedian and places him squarely in a full blown crisis. Ben Stiller's Greenberg, a failed carpenter, controlling friend, poor lover, etc., was one of the most depressing, arresting characters of 2010. It isn't so much how he falls apart that sells the film, but how he manages to drag an old friend (Rhys Ifans) and a new girlfriend (Greta Gerwig) down with him. (full review)
This year seemed absolutely dominated by documentaries about war or the environment or the crumbling facets of American society, education, banking, an otherwise, and while those are certainly fine subjects, the dwindling societal value of art is one that, at least to me, seemed the riskiest to cover. Considering that Banksy is, according to law, a vandal, what could he possibly have to say about art? Considering that his work is routinely stolen off the streets and sold for amazing sums of money, quite a bit. It's nice to watch a documentary that doesn't feel the need to beat you over the head with its message, and it's doubly nice to watch the documentarian's experiment (the creation of an artist/monster who looks at what Banksy does and sees an opportunity to get famous and make millions) blow up in his face. The scary thing about Mr. Brainwash is that the public's quick acceptance of him as an artistic voice only proves that we're willing to call anything art, so long as a guy is willing to rent out an abandoned TV studio to sell it to us. (full review)
The best movie nominated for the Academy Award, and the best debut performance I can remember seeing in some time. Winter's Bone is backwoods noir with a very strong woman at it's core. She's certainly no angel and is rather ambivalent about her father's possible death and meth cooking past, but Ree Dolly (Jennifer Lawrence) is one tough 17-year-old, and she'd rather die than see her family get evicted from their home. The pivotal scenes here are awful in their brutality. They leave scars.
Tilda Swinton continues to make a compelling case for herself as being the greatest living actress. For I Am Love, she learned Italian so she could play a Russian woman who married into a wealthy Italian family, only to find herself shut out from the family and very much without a home. Like Swinton's last arthouse project, Julia, I Am Love went sorely underseen during its limited theatrical run, but Netflix exists for a reason, and those with the necessary patience for quiet, subtle dramas will not be disappointed.
The plot might be a little convoluted and the ending a little expected, but The Disappearance of Alice Creed grabs your attention from the opening credits and keeps it until the end. I have a thing for movies that feature The Perfect Crime at their center, particularly when the plan begins to fall apart. The good movies of the genre, the Dog Day Afternoons, for example, know that the characters committing and falling victim to the crimes are more interesting than the crime itself, that a little, unseen detail unraveling the plot is more effective than sending in the SWAT team. The Disappearance of Alice Creed is entirely self-contained, taking place between the kidnapped and the kidnappers, one of them sloppy, the other almost anal in his attention to detail. The result is a nerve-wracking thriller.
The flop-turned-cult-film of 2010, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World didn't get a fair shake during its theatrical run. Edgar Wright deftly mixes elements of coming-of-age comedy, sitcom, and video game violence, at once skewering and celebrating a generation raised on Sega Genesis and Mountain Dew while providing it a hero in Michael Cera's broken hearted, post-collegiate slacker. If there was a movie that I enjoyed more in 2010, I can't name it. (read the full review or Horatio Q.'s take on Ramona Flowers)
The American is almost embarrassingly stylish. Every shot, every word of dialog is as precise as it's main character, as expertly crafted as the guns he builds. It's clear that Jack (or Edward, but it's George Clooney either way) understands the ramifications of his job, which is nice. Often, superspy movies feature men who mindlessly go about their day killing others by the dozens until act three, when the spy realizes that his employer has been evil all along, at which point he grows a conscience and turns the gun on his employer. The American is not hung up on the trifling matter of good and evil, and it's possible that Jack has no conscience. Its concern is survival, even when it looks like Jack is falling in love. The cat-and-mouse elements of the movie are effective, and Italy provides one hell of a maze for the action. (I was obsessed with The American's use of pay phones)
Edward Norton is large. Edward Norton contains multitudes. More than a hazy drug comedy, Tim Blake Nelson's Leaves of Grass deals with the inescapability of one's roots. An Ivy League philosophy professor on the verge of a huge career breakthrough is called home to Oklahoma, where his entire life begins to unravel. He is to play patsy in his identical twin brother's scheme to settle his drug debts to Pug Rothbaum (Richard Dreyfuss), a fixture in Tulsa's small Jewish community. Academic gossip back home threaten his promotion while the Oklahoma drug community threaten his physical well-being. The 10 minutes featuring Dreyfuss were funnier than anything else released last year.
At this point, the comparison to Aronofsky's The Wrestler might be tired, but it's still appropriate. As a portrait of an artist suffering to clinch a role that might be beyond her, Black Swan's as visceral and compelling as the Wrestler, which saw an old, broken idol trying his hardest for another shot at something like an audience. Months later, I'm not as sure of my love of Black Swan as I was. I've talked to dancers who loved it, people who hated this but loved The Wrestler, and there are very compelling cases both for and against the film. Regardless, it's the only mainstream movie that's inspired any kind of debate, which is something that more films should aspire to. The movie has problems, but so does everything else on this list. (full review)
It's possible that John Cameron Mitchell can direct any kind of movie successfully. After Hedwig and the Angry Inch and Shortbus, Rabbit Hole, about a husband and wife whose relationship and individual well-being are torn apart when their son is killed by an also-suffering teenage driver, seems an unlikely third film, if only because those films were gleefully indulgent, where Rabbit Hole is quiet and withdrawn. This is an incredibly mature movie about grief and guilt, with very good performances from Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckhart, the parents, Miles Teller, the teenage driver, and Dianne Wiest, who plays Kidman's mother.
True Grit (dir. Joel and Ethan Coen)
True Grit doesn't strike me as a remake of the John Wayne classic, even if Jeff Bridges, one-eyed, mean and drunk, carries himself a bit like the Duke. Instead, it's a reinterpretation of Charles Portis' classic anti-western novel, placing the focus right back where it belonged, on Mattie Ross, the book's young protagonist. Hailee Steinfeld, who played Ross, managed to steal the show from Bridges, Matt Damon, and Josh Brolin, which, obviously, is no small feat. That being said, it would have been preferable to me had Jeff Bridges and Colin Firth switched Oscars. Bridges' Rooster Cogburn was more deserving of recognition than Firth's King George, and Firth's performance in A Single Man more deserving than Bridges' in Crazy Heart. Here, Bridges fashions himself an icon, and his Rooster, who, were this a 4D movie, would smell of piss and blood and whisky, is as fully realized and memorable a character as The Dude.
Blue Valentine (dir. Derek Cianfrance)
Derek Cianfrance's Blue Valentine is one hell of a film. The film charts the course of a shotgun marriage, from its initial dizzying highs to its eventual, inevitable misery. The film features the extensive use of flashback, and the effects are devastating. Without a kid and without commitment, Michelle Williams and Ryan Gosling are young, happy, in love. Five years later, they look fifteen years older and at the end of their rope. Gosling's slacker charm has become passive aggressiveness. Williams' cool has become fragility. It's inarguably terrible what their marriage has done to them, but they've got a kid, and they've got a responsibility to stay together for that kid, right?
On the Verge: Shutter Island, Robin Hood, Toy Story 3, Cyrus, The Kids Are All Right, Inception, Easy A, The Town, The Social Network, 127 Hours, Unstoppable, The King's Speech, The Fighter.
Thanks for the Review, But The Black swan and Blue valentine movies are just amazing.
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