At the end of the year, all the bloggers I read unveiled their “best of” lists ( like this one, ) each of them ranking pretty much the same ten films in a slightly different order.
You won’t find any of that nonsense here. My best of ’11 is format-friendly. We’re on the web, after all, not in a graduate seminar, and in that spirit you can watch my entire list in about fifteen minutes if you’re so inclined. More than anything else, 2011 brought back the “movie moment.” While there weren’t many truly great films IMHO, there were plenty of good films with great moments.
One of the few things I’m enormously grateful to YouTube for is mixups and mashups. Film needed the mix-tape, something to yank it out of its all-important filmy-ness and remind us that a movie is, after all, a collection of moments. Here are a few of my favorites from the past: Best Morgan Freeman quotes, best ways that Sean Bean dies, John Cusack in the rain.
Honestly, if you’re watching a film and there isn’t at least one moment that doesn’t make you catch your breath, doesn’t grab you and pull you out of your seat, can you really say you loved it? 2011 was full of moments like this for me, which makes me wonder — can a film succeed even if it doesn’t resolve into a cohesive whole? Can it become a classic on the strength of a couple great moments the way a rock album can on one or two tracks?
With that in mind, here are my five favorite moments at the movies in 2011:
A separation: ‘The Gas Station.’
A Separation begins with a father refusing his wife’s request to emigrate from Iran so that their teenage daughter can grow up in a more open society — not an unreasonable request given what we know about Iran. Because of this you find yourself siding with the mom and daughter and stereotyping the dad. But in the next scene they’re at a gas station – and I confess, this is the earliest I’ve teared up in a movie, ever — and the father forces the daughter out of the car to pump gas (unheard of for women in Iran, apparently) and, more importantly, to confront a male gas-station attendant who has stiffed them on change.
As he watches her in the rearview mirror you realize something important about him: he doesn’t believe he has to leave his country to protest it’s injustices, he’s been finding opportunities every day and he wants to teach his daughter that seizing these opportunities can take as much courage — and be just as important — as making grand gestures like the one his wife is suggesting. Suddenly, we’re not sure where our loyalties lie – mom’s got a point… But so does dad – which is crucial to establish early in a film that asks us to reassess our loyalties many times before it’s done with us.
Like Crazy: ‘Finding the Note’
The thing I loved most about ‘Like Crazy’ was the way it made a story we’ve seen hundreds of times seem completely new. Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back… Basically. But all the big beats happen offscreen. What’s left onscreen are the moments in between: lingering in a doorway at the end of a first date, getting ready for work, finding a note left on the windshield of your car. Mumblecore has tried this but never with results that are as emotionally satisfying. Like Crazy is a clinic in style and if (as some critics complain) it falls short in the substance department, well, so do long distance relationships.
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy: ‘Smiley leans on the stairs’
One of the central themes that emerges in Tomas Alfredson’s brilliantly layered spy film is loyalty: If to country, which? If to love, whose? For several of these characters, their answer to this question decides their fate. For Smiley – the film’s inscrutable protagonist – we’re certain we know the answer: England… But in one of the last shots of the film he arrives home to find his wife, whose recently cuckolded him, waiting. It’s in that instant, in the way he braces himself on the stairs and lets out a gust of air, that we know where his deepest loyalties lie.
Drive: ‘The first fifteen minutes’
Somewhere in the beginning of ‘Drive’ I turned to the person I’d brought with me and mouthed ‘wow’ only to find them mouthing it right back. Unfortunately, a short time later, the film lost me in a maelstrom of hyper-violence and melodrama that it never recovered from. But the beginning is dazzling. There are dolly shots cut in lock step to coarse Euro club beats, locked-off close-ups drenched in grainy shadows, aerials floating high above a neon and black Los Angeles. And it all pulses forward with a desperate urgency, like someone’s last night on earth. You can’t take your eyes off it.
I liked so many moments in Beginners it was really tough picking just one. In the end I have to go with the phone call Ewan Mcgregor’s character receives from his recently un-closeted, 75 year-old, cancer-stricken father. It’s about four in the morning and his father (played pitch perfectly by Christopher Plummer) has been out clubbing and wants to know the name of a piece of music he’s heard. “Probably ‘house.’” Says Mcgregor’s character. His father writes it down. While both amusing and tender, the scene also foreshadows things to come – late night phone calls, scribbled notes and names of medications, and, as Plummer’s character gets sicker, a need for simple explanations regarding impossibly complex things. Beautiful.






