The past few days in Sarasota have felt like a bridge between the madness of the opening and closing weekends, yet we’ve still been getting only a few hours of sleep each night. Poor Holly and Tom. They’re pretty much stuck in the theatre all day long, scurrying between intros and Q&As. I have a hunch they’re both going to sleep in like cadavers on Monday, when they finally have a day off. As will pretty much everybody on the staff.

Yesterday, a new wave of filmmakers arrived, and it seems like just about everybody will be here by tonight. Suffice to say, an old person such as myself needs to suck it up and try to act like I’m in my twenties again. Two gin-and-Monsters helped to awaken me last night when I finally got to the World Cinema Celebration, but I still felt completely exhausted. Anyway, enough about me being old and boring, let’s get to some photographic memories from the past few days.

It’s fitting that my last post ended with a non-festival related image from the restaurant where I watched the Final Four, for this post begins with a shot of that very same bar.

Being the nerd that I am, I arrived at Five One Six Burns and proceeded to ignore everyone in order to watch the game. Midway through, good buddy Gabriel Goodenough (yes, it’s pronounced Good-uh-NUFF--aka, The Best Name Ever) joined me to watch the battle unfold. Gabe directed the great short Zebra Kids, which follows a group of inner city Baltimore boys who take an African Drum class in order to broaden their horizons. It’s exceptional.

Speaking of exceptional, the game was everything that I hoped it would be. For some reason, when Memphis was ahead, it felt wrong to me, and not just because I’d picked Kansas to win it all in my bracket (even with that pick, I still lost the pool). So when they made their miraculous comeback, I felt an even greater thrill.

Midway through overtime, tragedy ***almost*** struck. Tom asked me if I knew where Holly was. I said she was probably doing the last Q&A. He said that the filmmakers from that Q&A had arrived a few minutes ago. We both thought this was strange. At this point, I should note that Holly left me a voicemail about thirty minutes prior, but my reception is spotty in the bar so it was pretty much a case of hearing what I wanted to hear. It went like this… “Hi, I’m sticking around to do the last Q&A… (her voice dropped out for several seconds)… I’ll head that way when I’m done.” Which I took to mean that she was heading directly over after the Q&A, not realizing that she could have said something else during that dropout. Okay, so back to the moment. Tom and I both called her, and her phone rang and rang and rang. It didn’t go directly to voice mail, and the fact that the movies were done made it seem strange that she wouldn’t pick up. Here’s where it gets interesting:

Not to be a selfish male prick--okay, selfish male prick acknowledged--I told him not to worry and turned my attention back to the game (still calling Holly all the while, of course, but never getting an answer). A moment or two later, Tom came back to me and said that someone said she’d seen Holly’s “dark silhouette in the back of a van,” at which point my heart started pounding.

FADE IN:

EXT. BACK ALLEY – NIGHT

HOLLY (25) is coerced into a shady Scooby-Doo style van by TWO MENACING THUGS.

Cue DANGEROUS SYNTHESIZER SCORE.

HARD CUT Back to Restaurant.

Obviously, there was no logic in this set-up, but at the time, that’s all I saw. Looking into Tom’s eyes, I knew that our interpretations of the scene were pretty damn similar. Tom pulled out his keys and said he was going to look for her. I looked at the TV, figured the game was handled, and chose rescuing Holly over one of the most exciting National Championships in many, many years. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is (I’m just kidding… I think).

Back to the drama. Tom skidded into the parking lot and I dove into the car like we were auditioning for CSI: Sarasota. Frantically, we sped towards the theatre, as ridiculously dramatic scenarios unfolded in our terrified minds. And then, about halfway there, it hit me. I forget what it was exactly, but I think Tom went into more specific detail about the van Holly was in, and then I knew and breathed easily. Holly was with her friend Erika and her boyfriend Andy, who had arrived in town in a super-cool van that they were living out of. The initial description of the van situation spun me into some old TV movie like The Atlanta Child Murders, and I completely forgot about the innocent reality of the situation. If I had heard the entire voicemail--for that dropout was Holly saying “I’m going to meet up with Erika for a bit then head over”--I would have known and everything would’ve been fine. And if I didn’t watch so many stupid movies, my brain wouldn’t have created such a preposterously horrific scenario. That situation handled, we headed back to the bar.

Here, Holly chats with filmmaker Amy Seimetz and journalist Noralil Ryan Fores, telling him that her worried friends are paranoid weirdos.

I picked up Holly’s mom from the airport Tuesday morning and did some more movie watching (more on that later--movies schmovies) before the day’s main event.

At seven o’clock, many of us got to experience something very, very special (that’s cinematographer Adam Pinney on the left and actor/filmmaker Mike Brune on the right--they’re here with the remarkably assured short The Adventure). Sony Pictures Classics’ Michael Barker did a tremendous job as a first-time moderator in his conversation with Liv Ullmann, who was gracious, humble, humorous, and refreshingly sincere. I felt like a proud parent. Tom had conceived of this tribute to Ms. Ullmann for years and to be experiencing it was a real thrill. Congratulations, Tom!

After that, it was back to the theatre to meet up with more people.

Here are Laura Terruso (The Last Butcher in Little Italy), Madaleine Olneik (Make Room For Phyllis), and programming intern Jessica Bardsley. Laura and Madaleine left yesterday. That sucks. We miss you guys, already!

After an impromptu trip to a rooftop bar, which closed at midnight--in keeping with just about every establishment in this sleepy town--we ended up at one of the downtown’s only open-until-2 spots, the Sports Page. When people started going their separate ways, a small crew of us went back to Karina’s room to continue my new favorite game of coming up with the most outlandish Applebee’s style “killer apps!” (aka, Chicken Bombers!, Cheese Blasters!, Clam Slammmerzzz!, Lobsterdillas!). This is probably funnier if I explain it to you in person. Or maybe not. But it’s certainly given me a reason to live over the past month.

Chris Brune (left), Adam, and James Johnston (Merrily, Merrily) continue to ponder new “killer apps.”

Holly and writer Keith Uhlich (The House Next Door).

Mike is pondering the hard, sad fact that his debut short film The Adventure is more impressive than anything I’ll ever make in my life. That’s when I decided I should go to bed.

Let’s get back to Holly. She told me that if I kept taking pictures of her and posting them on my site she is going to dump me faster than I can scream, “Nooooooo!” Though she didn’t seem to be kidding around (her words went something like, “While you are certainly the most publicly appreciative boyfriend ever, if you don’t stop embarrassing me like this I’m kicking you out of my house”), I simply can’t help it.

She’s even lovely from way back over here! Okay, I’ll stop now. Sorry.

I only managed to catch one movie yesterday, Nick Broomfield’s Battle For Haditha, which I thought was pretty stellar. I’m hoping to write a compare/contrast between Broomfield’s powerful work and Brian De Palma’s putrid, shameful, and sinful Redacted. The lead performance by non-actor and actual soldier Elliot Ruiz is one of the most incredible I’ve seen this year. I hope he continues to pursue acting, because he has an extraordinary gift.

When I got out of Battle For Haditha, I thought I had landed in Europe when I saw these two characters hanging out at the concession stand…

Turns out it was just Gi Gi and publicist Gary Springer getting ready for the World Cinema Celebration.

I got to the party late and didn’t eat nearly as much food as last year. Instead, I grabbed a few gin-and-Monsters to wake up and celebrated the glorious concept that is underage drinking in a public place with Jessica.

Why is Gary happy and yet Tobey, Claire Michaelson, Holly, and Brian are so terribly sad?

That’s because Gary was about to start haunting the party like a spooky, dead Scotsman.

Which leads us to Brian Reiss. I received thousands of emails suggesting that the picture I posted of Brian’s red carpet wave to me on opening night seemed a little fey, and these readers were outright questioning the man’s masculinity. Well, folks, all I can say is that was a fluke moment, because most of the time he looks like this when he gets around a pretty lady. Here's another one, just in case...

After the street party shut down, we all headed across the street for an upstairs rendezvous at The Gator Lounge (or whatever it's called).

Karina and Holly welcome Mr. Matt Dentler, who arrived at the party with his luggage in check. Hot damn!

Here Keith, Tom, and Jason Guerrasio (Variety, Filmmaker) discuss… well, I don’t know what they were discussing, but if my left thumb were on the line, I’d have to say they were talking about… hmm, let’s see… um… maybe movies???

This year, Mark Rabinowitz is here on a new mission, in addition to the Rabbi Report. He is fielding 3-minute documentary pitches for the newly formed company Cinelan.

That about does it for Monday through Wednesday. More people are arriving today, at which point things will get crazier. I totally forgot to take a picture of David Redmon and Ashley Sabin, damn it. Their Intimidad is one of my favorite films of 2008. If it doesn’t make the top ten, it will certainly be in the top twenty. See this movie if you get the chance. It is a beautiful, tender love story, and it features, without a doubt. The Cutest Baby In The History of Cinema. Watch it and tell me I'm wrong.

Stay tuned for more madness as the festival unfolds!

Just in time for April 1st, the 21st Century's most important film critic, Outlaw Vern, has abandoned his archaic Geocities website and joined the film blogger revolution! Mixing cunning reviews with scalding-hot-off-the-press news updates and psychic box office predictions, the Visa/Quiznos Vern's Movie Blog is the ultimate resource for the most important and pressing Hollywood news. While the new site has only been up and running for several hours, Vern's sharp wit and insider access has already knocked David Poland and Jeffrey Wells several notches down the totem pole. Congratulations, Vern. Just a few concessions to the corporate powers that be (who needs curse words to make a point anyway?) and you are now able to call yourself a full-time professional film blogger!

Check out the Visa/Quiznos Vern's Movie Blog right here.

And Happy April 1st, everyone! I mean that from the top and bottom and front and back and side to side of my heart.

For those of you out there who guessed the correct answer to yesterday's pop quiz, congratulations. Yes, it was David Gordon Green, who for two days visited the set of Born on the 4th of July when he was in the eighth grade and says that watching Oliver Stone in action was the spark that made him want to make movies. How one minute Stone would be yelling at an older crew member, while the next minute he'd be talking softly to a child actor. That, coupled with the big cranes and general excitement, sealed the deal for David. And now, in 2008, he's the director of Warner Independent's somber, moving Snow Angels, as well as Sony's insanely funny Pineapple Express. I saw Snow Angels for the second time last night, and think it's a very strong work. Sam Rockwell has never been better. This weekend is beyond overwhelming with regards to independent releases in New York City (more on that tomorrow), but I recommend that you make room for Snow Angels in your busy schedule.

To set the tone for this weekend's release, there is going to be another event tonight in SoHo. i will see you there:

indieWIRE Presents: David Gordon Green @ Apple Store SoHo

indieWIRE continues its ongoing series with Apple Store - SoHo that presents indie film professionals discussing various aspects of the filmmaking process.

Actress Olivia Thirlby ("Juno", "The Wackness") CONFIRMED TO ATTEND!

WHEN: Wednesday, March 5th, 7:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m
WHERE: Apple Store SoHo, 103 Prince Street, NYC
COST: Free, No RSVP required. Seats are first come, first serve. Seating is limited.

Filmmaker David Gordon Green ("George Washington," "All The Real Girls") will participate in a discussion and show scenes from his latest film, "Snow Angels," which stars Sam Rockwell, Katie Beckinsale, Olivia Thirlby, Amy Sedaris and Griffin Dunne. "Snow Angels" (based on Stewart O'Nan's novel) is the haunting story of two broken families and two romantic relationships, one just beginning and one nearing its end. Warner Independent Pictures will release "Snow Angels" in theaters on March 7, 2008.

Pardon me, Mr. Grant, while I borrow your very fun Screen Capture Quiz concept for today's post. If you aren't a regular visitor of Like Anna Karina's Sweater, you should be, and if you aren't already a full-blown supporter of Benten Films, you will be once you get your hands on their third release. I have seen and touched the stately two-disc set of Todd Rohal's The Guatemalan Handshake, and I can confirm that it is another wonderfully put together package. Which leads us into today's pop quiz. Kind of.

For my quiz, I'm not here to ask you what movie this image is from. I'm going to tell you right now. It comes from Oliver Stone's Oscar-winning Born on the Fourth of July. No, my friends, my question is much different. The question is this:

What celebrated director makes an appearance in the following image? I don't want to give too much away, but let's just say that this year he'll be making a pretty big splash in both art houses and multiplexes.

I have nothing to offer you in exchange for your correct answer(s), so why not post your thoughts in the comments section here and see if we can provide some daytime entertainment for all of you bored indieWIRE blog readers out there in the electronic cosmos. Without further ado, here... we... go...

Life is cruel. After what I can only describe as The Single Greatest Weekend Ever (longtime readers, exhausted by this writer's rampant enthusiasm, will undoubtedly recall The Greatest Week Ever and perhaps want to dismiss it as more unchecked hyperbole, but they would be oh-so-very wrong), it is time for me to leave Sarasota and That Very Special Someone behind for a mansion on Kiawah Island and a week of casual, yet intensive, music recording. As for That Very Special Someone, no, it's not Tom Hall (though if he keeps writing year-end wrap-ups like this and things don't work out with Jessica, he better watch out), but with regards to Mr. Hall, let me take the time to remind all of you filmmakers out there that you have until February 1st to submit your film to the glorious Sarasota Film Festival. Do it, if you know what's good for you. This festival is reason alone to justify taking the silly, exhausting (dare I say stupid?) directorial plunge.

In other news, Outlaw Vern is back. It's not as if he was ever gone--well, aside from all those years spent locked up in prison--but in addition to posting this incredible review of There Will Be Blood, which brings up some hilariously insightful issues, I have also begun to read his flat-out brilliant book, Seagalogy. I'm only into the second film, Hard to Kill, and I'm already about to declare Seagalogy the most original, hilarious, and insightful film book of the 21st Century (I'm talking intentionally so; The Man Who Heard Voices still wears the unintentional crown). Read this paragraph from his review of Above the Law to whet your appetite (it's referring to Nico/Seagal's relationship with his cop partner, Jax/Pam Grier):

For her part, Jax doesn't seem to have a more important man in her life -- she turns down guys who hit on her and complains that she has turned down a hot date to go tail a suspect with Nico. They get dressed up and go to a restaurant and even refer to it as a date. Later in the picture, after Jax is shot in slow motion by Zagon and may die, Nico mourns in the usual movie fashion by looking at photos, including a family portrait of him, his wife, his baby, and Jax! Now think about it. All cops are gonna have close relationships with their partners, but do you think Danny Glover invites Mel Gibson to be in his family portraits? No, that is not normal. I think we all know what is going on here. Nico is cheating on his wife. But maybe Seagal didn't want to make it too obvious since his real wife might get the wrong idea if she saw part of this movie on cable or something. It's one of those things you don't pick up on until you've seen the movie a couple times. Which you will.

Every paragraph is this good, but when you read an endless string of them put together, it doesn't seem humanly possible. When Christof Gebert returns from his own Seagal-esque mission in Thailand at the end of January, he and David Wingo and I plan to stuff the fridge with Lightning Bolt and have a Seagal marathon. Maybe life isn't so cruel after all.

Or maybe it is. It appears that Seagalogy has been taken out of print for a little while, in order for Vern to regroup and get a new batch on the shelf. Until then, go here to buy Vern's first bestseller, 5 On the Outside, and prepare to have your mind blown (that is also where you'll be able to order Seagalogy when the time has come once again).

Stay tuned for my Charleston revelation, which will be dropping within the next few days.

I am in a rather fortunate position when it comes to seeing movies. As a filmmaker, I get to attend festivals; as a film reviewer, I get to attend press screenings; as a New Yorker, I get to experience the world of retrospectives and other rare, inspired treats; and as a movie loving nerd, I can visit the multiplex to get my Hollywood fix. Which is to say that things get complicated when trying to compile an annual "best of the year" list. That's because I've seen at least five new movies in 2007 that I would like to place on this year's list, but since they won't be getting an official theatrical release until 2008 I technically can't do that. On the other side of that coin is the realization that I actually saw many of the best films of this year last year, or the year before that (see: Regular Lovers, Offside, and Syndromes and a Century). Finally, let us not forget about those older films that had never received a theatrical release until 2007 (I’m talking about you, Killer of Sheep). In order to keep from going too crazy, I’m simply going to err on the side of way-more-is-hopefully-better and make a bunch of separate lists to distinguish between all of this year's cinematic goodness. I should also mention that while I stand behind every film on my Top 10 List, it’s strange how many of them were this close to flat-out greatness, but something arose that kept me from giving all the way in. Having said that, I still think 2007 was a phenomenal year for movies, and to prove it I’m going to get even dorkier than usual. Are you sitting down? Got a full pot of coffee? Got a full night’s rest? Here we go.

Special Jury Award For a Film That Doesn’t Belong In a List:

Frownland (Ronald Bronstein, USA)

In 2007, no film electrified, energized, and inspired me more than Ronald Bronstein’s Frownland. I would go so far as to call it a work of genius, and I don’t use that term lightly. It certainly helps that Bronstein’s checklist of inspirational sources reflects my own personal influences in almost every single way, but what makes Bronstein so exceptional is his ability to combine his influences with his own hyper-smart vision and produce something that is wholly distinct and original. This is one of those rare, special works that feels like it couldn’t have been made by anyone else. That’s because it couldn’t have. Frownland is so inspiring it’s intimidating.

A Second Viewing Is Necessary to Determine Just How Impressive These Films Are:

There Will Be Blood (Paul Thomas Anderson, USA)

For the first two hours and twenty minutes of Paul Thomas Anderson’s breathtakingly majestic horror/western/epic/oil-black comedy, I was prepared to call it The Best Movie Ever Made. And then came that final chapter, “1927,” when his masterfully constructed balloon popped like a weak, gaudy fart. To me, that finale was unearned and cartoonishly executed, like an outtake from Boogie Nights or something. I walked out of the theater feeling a tragic sense of disappointment. However, those first two hours cannot be denied, and that is why I am driving to DC tonight to see it at midnight. My hunch is that the climax will be less jarring the second time around. I’m just not convinced that it will work completely for me. If it doesn’t, I worry that I’ll never be able to preach the glories of There Will Be Blood the way that I want to. But hopefully time and more viewings will reshape my appreciation. (Note: I have just woken up after my second viewing and I am disappointed to say that my reaction wasn’t what I had hoped for. Rather than waste more space writing my own murky thoughts, I would like to point you in the direction of Matt Zoller Seitz's incredible PTA/Blood essay, which sums up my feelings more eloquently and exactly than I ever could.)

Zodiac (David Fincher, USA)

As with PTA, I’ve never been a disciple of David Fincher. So I went into Zodiac not expecting much. Actually, I was expecting less than much. To be honest, I thought I was going to hate it (see my “Biggest Surprise” winner below for another example of how low/no expectations can trigger a pleasant result--screw high expectations!). I knew that this one had a long running time, and I remember checking my phone at one point and thinking, “Whoa, it’s only been an hour?” The next thing I remember, the credits were rolling and it felt like twenty minutes had passed. Like the best type of filmmaking, Fincher’s anti-procedural establishes its own rhythm, where time unfolds like a drugged-out dream. For me, what makes Zodiac so inventive and revelatory is that, underneath its artistic surface, it’s really just an average TV movie-of-the-week. That’s why I need to see it a second time before I can decide if the art or TV wins, or if it does, in fact, masterfully ride such an impossibly delicate line.

Best Narrative Features:

1. Once (John Carney, Ireland)

When looking over the list of films that I saw in 2007, I simply cannot deny that John Carney’s Once thrilled me more than any other. I realize that the following problem doesn’t necessarily have to do with the film itself, yet I cannot ignore the fact that I had the awful curse of far-too-lofty expectations going into it for the first time, which makes my reaction all the more miraculous. For some reason, I didn’t get to see it until its official theatrical release in the summer, after having read months upon months of gushing praise about it. By that point, I had built up a level of expectation that was irrational and couldn’t possibly be met. And then I finally saw it, by myself, on a lonely, rainy Wednesday afternoon, and I’ll be damned if it didn’t shatter my impossible-to-meet expectations. While on the surface, Once might appear to be nothing more than a low-budget, sincere love story, I consider it to be a revolutionary addition to the film canon. By using an unpolished production value to his advantage, Carney has reinvented the seemingly exhausted musical genre, giving it a sense of immediacy and intimacy that I never dreamed was impossible. Not to mention the fact that this is actually an anti-romance, where the lovers technically don’t fall in love. Or, rather, they do fall in love, but their situation won’t allow them to be together. What makes Once such a miraculous achievement is that, at its core, it is contradictory to everything it appears to be on the surface. Yet it retains the feeling of a classic movie romance at the exact same time.

2. Regular Lovers (Phillipe Garrel, France)

I first saw this back in 2005 (then again in 2006, then again in 2007), but since it had an official release this year, it must be included on my list. Philippe Garrel’s masterwork carried me away like few films have done this decade, if not ever. While on the surface, it’s a hauntingly gorgeous ode to late-1960s Paris and the French New Wave, it is also a profound ode to that sorrowful moment when one realizes that their innocence has slipped away forever (or to quote a lyric from my number one album of the year, The National’s Boxer: Another uninnocent, elegant fall/Into the unmagnificent lives of adults). Granted, I would put this film at number two even if we were only considering the unforgettable dance sequence set to The Kinks’ “This Time Tomorrow,” (good try, but you’ll never tarnish this moment for me, Wes Anderson!), but I think the entire film is extraordinary and special and will stand the test of time.

3. Offside (Jafar Panahi, Iran)

I actually saw Jafar Panahi’s electrifying, immediate Offside in the fall of 2006 and haven’t had a chance to revisit it yet, but it would be unfair for me to leave it off this list. That’s because Offside is one of the more alive films of recent memory. Panahi's achievement is that he manages to capture life in modern Iran with fly-on-the-lens specificity while telling a broad, universal story at the exact same time. Add this to your Netflix queue immediately. That is an order.

4. 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days (Cristian Mungiu, Romania)

Cristian Mungiu’s Palme d’Or winner is another major achievement for Romanian cinema, featuring a virtuosic tour-de-force of a supporting performance by Vlad Ivanov. Read my NYFF review here.

5. Great World of Sound (Craig Zobel, USA)

Craig Zobel’s excellent debut feature establishes him as one of American cinema’s smartest new voices. Great World of Sound is independent filmmaking at its most impressive: inventive, intelligent, and entertaining. The lack of audience for this striking work really disappointed me, because I think it has the ability to impact anyone who watches it. Zobel’s movie retains an overriding humanity and sympathy that never devolves into all-out cynicism. Not many directors could pull off this tightrope act. Craig Zobel is a major force to be reckoned with. Thankfully, we’ll be reckoning with him for many years to come.

6. This is England (Shane Meadows, UK)

In a year filled with films that contained 90% greatness, only to be tarnished by flashes of “what were they thinking,” Shane Meadows’ decision to use a Smiths cover at the end of his grittily fantastic portrait of 1980s England almost destroyed my appreciation of it. But even that couldn’t ruin the preceding ninety minutes of magic. Thomas Turgoose is the discovery of the year, and everything about the look and feel of this film is, to quote a character, sterling.

7. Syndromes and a Century (Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Thailand)

Thank Earth for Apichatpong Weerasethakul, who is delivering a vision unlike any other. Syndromes and a Century is like the first sunny day after a devastating tsunami, in which everyone is simply happy to be alive. I have a pretty low tolerance for pretension, which is why I’m so awed by Weerasethakul, whose works transcend the normal limits of what cinema can do without feeling forced or phony. And, oh yeah, aside from Beau Travail, this might just be the best ending ever.

8. No Country For Old Men (Ethan and Joel Coen, USA)

I’ve seen this twice, and it stunned me both times. I don’t know if it’s possible to deliver a more perfect display of genre filmmaking, from the cinematography to the sound design to the editing to the writing to the acting. I doubt the Coen Brothers will ever make a work that transcends genre and escapes its “movie” confines, which is fine with me, but No Country For Old Men is as close to spiritual transcendence as a thriller can get.

9. Into the Wild (Sean Penn, USA)

I was skeptical about how I felt during the first fifteen minutes of Sean Penn’s ambitious, heartfelt drama, but at some point I gave in completely. I read someone recently who said that they felt like they could have watched the movie for an entire day and I agree completely. Penn expertly crafts his narrative, to the point where we forget we’re watching a movie and are instead taking this journey alongside Christopher McCandless (Emile Hirsch, who keeps getting better and better). Even the Eddie Vedder plot song concept, which would normally distract me, felt like the right decision to make. Into the Wild has its heart rooted in the sprawling American classics made by the likes of Carroll Ballard, and it confirms Penn’s status as one of our country’s true mavericks.

10. Rescue Dawn (Werner Herzog, USA)

While Into the Wild felt like one of those epic natural dramas from the 1970s, Rescue Dawn is like a lost classic from the 1980s. Watching Werner Herzog’s powerfully acted fictional adaptation of his stellar documentary, Little Dieter Needs to Fly, made me feel like I was a teenager again, watching an R-rated war movie with my dad. I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to sit through an entire movie that is unabashedly innocent and contains not one frame of irony. Admittedly, the ending pushes this concept to its limits, but as with This is England, even that wasn’t enough to disturb my overall appreciation of Herzog’s stellar achievement.

Ten More:

11. The Assassination of Jesse James By the Coward Robert Ford (Andrew Dominik, USA)
12. Michael Clayton (Tony Gilroy, USA)
13. Quiet City (Aaron Katz, USA)
14. La Vie En Rose (Olivier Dahan)
15. A Mighty Heart (Michael Winterbottom, USA)
16. The Lives of Others (Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, Germany)
17. In Between Days (So Yong Kim, South Korea/Canada)
18. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (Julian Schnabel, USA)
19. Hannah Takes the Stairs (Joe Swanberg, USA)
20. The Bourne Ultimatum (Paul Greengrass, USA)

Ten More:

21. I Know Who Killed Me (Chris Sivertson, USA)
22. The Darjeeling Limited (Wes Anderson, USA)
23. Romance and Cigarettes (John Turturro, USA)
24. Joshua (George Ratliff, USA)
25. Red Road (Andrea Arnold, UK)
26. Margot at the Wedding (Noah Baumbach, USA)
27. The Host (Bong Joon-ho, South Korea)
28. The Wind That Shakes the Barley (Ken Loach, UK)
29. Blades of Glory (Josh Gordon and Will Speck, USA)
30. Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (Tim Burton, USA)

Ten More:

30. Them (David Moreau and Xavier Palud, France/Romania)
31. Superbad (Greg Mottola, USA)
32. 28 Weeks Later (Juan Carlos Fresnadillo, UK/Spain)
33. Persepolis (Marjane Satrapi and Vincent Paronnaud, France)
34. Knocked Up (Judd Apatow, USA)
35. Blood Car (Alex Orr, USA)
36. Live-In Maid (Jorge Gaggero, Argentina)
37. Murder Party (Jeremy Saulnier, USA)
38. Tears of the Black Tiger (Wisit Sasanatieng, Thailand)
39. Day Night Day Night (Julia Loktev, USA)
40. Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon (Scott Glosserman, USA)

Two More:

41. Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead (Sidney Lumet, USA)
42. Starting Out in the Evening (Andrew Wagner, USA)

Best Documentary Features:

1. The Unforeseen (Laura Dunn, USA)

Laura Dunn’s remarkably assured debut made me feel the way I felt when I read The Grapes of Wrath for the first time. I’ve talked to a lot of people who think this film is naïve and impractical, but that’s why I love it so much. While it is reaching for a perhaps unattainable, unrealistic vision of life, at least it's reaching. Dunn’s refusal to demonize Gary Bradley is something that most advocates wouldn’t allow themselves to do, yet Dunn understands that pointing fingers and attacking one’s rivals does nothing to better the situation. I understand that development is necessary and while The Unforeseen doesn’t address that problem directly, that doesn’t matter to me. I consider it to be one of the most life-affirming films I’ve seen this decade.

2. The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters (Seth Gordon, USA)

Seth Gordon clearly struck documentary filmmaking gold after stumbling into this battle between good guy Steve Wiebe and awful guy Billy Mitchell, but his telling of the story is what makes The King of Kong such an awesome thrill ride. I don’t know if I’ve ever loathed a character as much as Billy Mitchell. To hear that they’re turning this into a fictional feature seems like the stupidest idea ever. This documentary is the fictional feature.

3. No End in Sight (Charles Ferguson, USA)

Charles Ferguson delivers a treatise with a level of objectivity that even pro-Bush supporters will have a hard time dismissing. The world needs more work like this, which removes its personal emotions and focuses on the facts at hand. Any other way is simply preaching to the choir. How in the hell did this happen? Um, this is how it happened.

4. Lake of Fire (Tony Kaye, USA)

Tony Kaye’s sprawling opus is like the abortion debate itself: ugly, messy, emotional, complex, and shocking. While it’s impossible to distill the situation into any cohesive unit, and while Kaye’s film could perhaps deal with more female voices and middle-of-the-road points-of-view, there is no denying its power. The climax, which follows a young woman as she willingly chooses to remove the life inside her womb, is one of the more devastating scenes of recent memory.

5. Into Great Silence (Philip Groning, Germany)

Ever wondered what it would be like to live in a monastery? Now’s your chance to find out! In just over two-and-a-half hours, Philip Groning’s quiet, hypnotic portrait of the monks living in the Grand Chartreuse monastery left me feeling more spiritual than a combined eighteen years of going to Catholic mass ever did. I saw this in Rotterdam in 2006, and the theater became like a gallery, with people fluttering in and out. I remained frozen and wide-eyed the entire time.

6. My Kid Could Paint That (Amir Bar-Lev, USA)

Amir Bar-Lev’s fascinating film is this year’s Capturing the Friedmans or 51 Birch Street, a probing mystery that becomes more complex as it unfolds. I love films that aren’t about one thing, that present their material as honestly and directly as possible, allowing their moral dilemmas to grow exponentially. Bar-Lev’s film does exactly that without feeling forced or self-indulgent. Only a truly gifted filmmaker could tackle a subject like this with such sensitivity.

7. Kurt Cobain: About a Son (AJ Schnack, USA)

Without showing any video footage, or--discounting the very-very end--any still imagery of Kurt Cobain, AJ Schnack has placed us closer to Cobain than we have ever been. The person that we meet is a seemingly ordinary, deeply conflicted young man, who shares the pain of a generation but never tried to speak for anyone other than himself. After watching this film for the first time, I wanted to sob uncontrollably. Though I would recommend this film on its stylistic inventiveness alone, what makes Kurt Cobain: About a Son so special is it that it throbs with such an aching, tender heart.

8. The Trials of Darryl Hunt (Anne Sundberg and Ricki Stern, USA)

It was tough to choose between this and Anne Sundberg and Ricki Stern’s devastating The Devil Came on Horseback, but looking back on them now I actually think The Trials of Darryl Hunt resonated with me even more deeply. Of course, it’s impossible to compare these things, but Sundberg and Stern’s tense and tautly constructed telling of Darryl Hunt’s unspeakably horrific story had me filled with goose bumps, rage, and tears. As with Devil, this should be mandatory viewing for anyone with a pulse.

9. The Other Side of the Mirror: Bob Dylan at the Newport Film Festival 1963-1965 (Murray Lerner, USA)

It probably helps that I saw Murray Lerner’s film the day after I saw Todd Haynes’ fantastical I’m Not There, but the fact remains that this thing confirmed for me what I’ve always felt about storytelling, whether it be fiction or non-fiction or otherwise: Show, don’t tell. By simply presenting Dylan in this incomprehensibly momentous three-year time span, we get all the information we need from his change in clothing and demeanor, as well as the reactions of everyone around him.

10. Billy the Kid (Jennifer Venditti, USA)

First and foremost, Jennifer Venditti’s award-winning debut is an incredibly intimate portrait of an adolescent who is like no one else. Yet it also works as a brilliant metaphor for the awful state of adolescence, how the smallest breeze can feel like a tornado, how the most innocent rejection can feel like the end of the world.

Honorable Mentions:

Kamp Katrina (David Redmon and Ashley Sabin, USA)
The Devil Came on Horseback (Anne Sundberg and Ricki Stern, USA)
Pete Seeger: The Power of Song (Jim Brown, USA)
Abduction: The Megumi Yokota Story (Chris Sheridan and Patty Kim, USA)
The Monastery: Mr. Vig & The Nun (Pernille Rose Gronkjaer, Denmark)
The Holy Modal Rounders… Bound to Lose (Paul Lovelace and Sam Wainwright Douglas, USA)
Ghosts of Cite Soleil (Asger Leth and Milos Loncarevic, Denmark/USA)
Joe Strummer: The Future is Unwritten (Julian Temple, UK)
War Dance (Sean Fine and Andrea Nix, USA)
You’re Gonna Miss Me (Keven McAlester, USA)
Mr. Warmth: The Don Rickles Project (John Landis, USA)
Companeras (Matthew Buzzell and Elizabeth Massie, USA)
Sicko (Michael Moore, USA)

Best Short Film:

By Modern Measure (Matthew Lessner, USA) -- My favorite short film of 2007, Matthew Lessner's By Modern Measure uses beautifully grainy black-and-white film and French New Wave techniques to comment on just how difficult it is to make an honest romantic connection in our commercialized and corny modern world. But there's a sincerity and gravity to the work that makes it more just mere satire and elevates it to greatness. This, my friends, is what short films should be.

Runner Up:

Death to the Tin Man (Ray Tintori, USA) -- I saw this for the first time in Sarasota, where it wowed my pants off. Then I saw it months later, at an NYFF press screening (it played before Go Go Tales), and something very special happened. When it ended, it got a generous round of applause, something I’ve never experienced with a short in all my years of attending the NYFF.

Best Male Performance:

Daniel Day Lewis, There Will Be Blood

Runners Up:

Thomas Turgoose, This is England
Casey Affleck, The Assassination of Jesse James By the Coward Robert Ford
Viggo Mortensen, Eastern Promises
Frank Langella, Starting Out in the Evening
George Clooney, Michael Clayton

Best Female Performance:

Marion Cotillard, La Vie En Rose

Runners Up:

Anamaria Marinca, 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days
Greta Gerwig, Hannah Takes the Stairs
Kate Dickie, Red Road
Angelina Jolie, A Mighty Heart
Jiseon Kim, In Between Days
Luisa Williams, Day Night Day Night

Best Supporting Male Performance:

Vlad Ivanov, 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days

Runners Up:

Javier Bardem, No Country For Old Men
Kene Holliday, Great World of Sound
Hal Holbrook, Into the Wild
Steve Zahn, Rescue Dawn
Irfan Kahn, A Mighty Heart
Paul Schneider, Live Free or Die

Best Supporting Female Performance:

Catherine Keener, Into the Wild

Runners Up:

Cate Blanchett, I’m Not There
Kelly Macdonald, No Country For Old Men
Tilda Swinton, Michael Clayton
Amara Karan, The Darjeeling Limited

Best Ensemble:

No Country For Old Men

Runners Up:

Into the Wild
There Will Be Blood
A Mighty Heart

Best First Film:

Craig Zobel, Great World of Sound

Runners Up:

So Yong Kim, In Between Days
Charles Ferguson, No End in Sight
Seth Gordon, The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters
Sarah Polley, Away From Her
Jennifer Venditti, Billy the Kid

Best Director:

Sean Penn, Into the Wild -- Penn poured his wallet and heart and soul and sweat and tears into this ambitious, sprawling celebration of life and nature, and that is why he deserves this award more than anyone else.

Best Opening Credit Sequence:

Joe Strummer: The Future is Unwritten -- After we’ve heard Joe Strummer screaming into a studio microphone surrounded by silence, the music kicks in behind him and all one can say is, Motherfuck Yes!!!

Best Ending:

Syndromes and a Century -- Unexpected, glorious, and perfect.

Best Closing Credit Sequence:

Michael Clayton -- When the final shot continued to hold on George Clooney and the credits began to appear, I thought, “This is a tad too clever,” yet the sheer visceral impact of it, combined with the stellar execution of the entire film, left me shaken.

Best Monologue:

Kene Holliday, Great World of Sound -- Holliday’s “Fuck fair” speech is why acting awards were invented.

Most Heartbreaking Moment:

The Devil Came on Horseback -- In a refugee camp, after giving a humble interview thanking the United States, a teary-eyed old man walks away, hand in pocket, stepping over a puddle, and I felt the suffocated humanity of an entire nation in that seemingly inconsequential action.

Best Shot:

Quiet City -- Charlie and Jamie wait for the G train at Smith/9th St. at dusk.

Best Screenplay (Tie):

Noah Baumbach, Margot at the Wedding -- Nicole Kidman’s character is such a cunt in this movie that I had ethical issues giving into it completely--do we really need to see another movie about the wealthy, white, emotionally stunted upper class? That said, Baumbach has really hit a zone with The Squid and the Whale and now this. It’s corny to say, but he’s managed to marry the best of Wes Anderson and Woody Allen and deliver something individual and personal.

Craig Zobel and George Smith, Great World of Sound -- They should teach screenwriting courses with this text, which is critical but never condescending, hilarious without being sarcastic, and profound without ever being preachy.

Best Cinematography (Tie):

Roger Deakins, No Country For Old Men
Robert Elswit, There Will Be Blood

Best Editing:

Joel and Ethan Coen (aka, Roderick Jaynes), No Country For Old Men

Memorable Moments:

--Louis Garrel watches his friends dance their youth away to “This Time Tomorrow” in Regular Lovers.
--H.W.’s accident in There Will Be Blood.
--The doofus American who tries to walk across Abbey Road on his hands in a Hooters t-shirt and breaks his arm in Sicko.
--The incredible one-take in La Vie En Rose when Edith Piaf’s bedroom sorrow magically becomes an on-stage performance.
--Courtney Love calling downstairs to Kurt Cobain at the end of Kurt Cobain: About a Son.
--The weird smoke vent machine in Syndromes and a Century.
--The dog chasing Llewelyn in the water in No Country For Old Men.
--Turner’s car driving away at the end of Low And Behold.
--In an otherwise empty music store one day during lunch, an Irish guy teaches a Czechoslovakian girl one of his songs in Once.
--The heartbroken woman’s unexpected emotional collapse at the end of Lake of Fire.
--Tilda Swinton closing the bedroom drapes in The Man From London.
--Matt tenderly unlaces Hannah's Chucks in Hannah Takes the Stairs.
--The entirety of Peter Hutton’s At Sea.
--The in-studio footage of Roy Orbison, Jeff Lynne, and Tom Petty in Runnin’ Down a Dream: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.
--David Berman at the Wailing Wall in Silver Jew.
--Lele breaking the news to ruthless gangster Bily that she’s begun to date his even more ruthless brother 2Pac instead in Ghosts of Cite Soleil.

Memorable Quotes:

“You wanna shotgun one just to be doin’ it?” (Great World of Sound)
“Stuh-ling!” (This is England)
“Iran will fill you full of goals!” (Offside)
“Sometimes people get cut.” (I Know Who Killed Me)

Best Undistributed Films (Alphabetical):

At Sea (Peter Hutton, USA)
Audience of One (Michael Jacobs, USA)
The GoodTimesKid (Azazel Jacobs, USA)
Low and Behold (Zach Godshall, USA)
Monkey Warfare (Reginald Harkema, Canada)
Orphans (Ry Russo-Young, USA)
Pretty in the Face (Nate Meyer, USA)
Secret Sunshine (Lee Chang-dong, South Korea)
The Urim And Thummim (Dub Cornett and Jacob Young, USA)

Best Original Song:

“When Your Mind’s Made Up” by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, Once -- I’m down with pretty much all of the lovely music written, played, and sung by Hansard and Irglova in Once, but I hope this is the song that will win them an Oscar.

Best Source Song:

“This Time Tomorrow” by The Kinks, Regular Lovers -- Not, I repeat, not The Darjeeling Limited.

The Bruno Dumont Award For Being the Most Bruno Dumontian:

Bruno Dumont, Flandres -- I simply can’t ignore Bruno Dumont, and I genuinely stand behind Flandres. He’s one of the few filmmakers whose pretension doesn’t bother me. I find it laughable and credible at the exact same time.

Biggest Surprise:

The Darjeeling Limited -- Wes Anderson was dead to me before I attended the press screening of Darjeeling at this year’s NYFF. But after the short, Hotel Chevalier, something changed and I found myself opening up to him in a way that I hadn’t since the Bottle Rocket days. I can’t explain why, necessarily. I just feel like Darjeeling was coming from a sincere place and had an air of honesty and intimacy that the past few films didn’t come close to capturing. And while I haven’t seen it a second time (see the below two categories, for this one could go either way), my hunch is that this movie will become funnier and more layered upon subsequent viewings.

Underwhelming the First Time Around, Overwhelming the Second:

Quiet City -- Don’t get me wrong, I quite enjoyed Quiet City the first time around. However, upon second viewing, the film felt flat-out perfect to me, which is why it wins this category. While Aaron Katz’s sophomore feature appears to be thin on a superficial glance, it is, in fact, a remarkably mature tone poem that uses restraint and understatement to reach its state of lovely grace.

Overwhelming the First Time Around, Underwhelming the Second (Tie):

Manda Bala -- The first time I saw this I felt like I was watching the smartest movie ever. The second time it felt like the product of a kid with severe ADD, all razzle-dazzle and no substance.

Knocked Up -- Round one was hysterical and believable. Round two was still funny, but preposterous and sitcom-y to the point of embarrassment.

I Don’t Get It:

Eastern Promises -- These last two Cronenberg movies have absolutely baffled me. Usually even if I don’t agree with the universal consensus regarding a film, I can still at least understand where the supporters are coming from. But watching Eastern Promises, I kept feeling like I was missing something, like a giant piece of the plot had escaped me. I kept thinking, “This can’t be it, because if it is this is dumb. This movie is dumb.” Afterwards, I received confirmation from the guys I was with that I hadn’t missed anything--at least plot-wise. So all it feels like is a sterile, dumb movie to me. I’m sure I am wrong and the advocates are right, but as much as I would really like to “get” these movies, I have some strange allergic reaction to them and they feel sterile and stupid to me.

Were These Movies Really Made and Did I Really Watch Them???:

Southland Tales -- Shame on anyone for calling this film ‘smart’ and ‘intelligent.’ Contrary to Ms. Manohla Dargis, and contrary to my own theoretical stance, I would rather watch a well-made genre movie that I’ve seen a million times than an ambitious failure that tries to be funny and so pathetically isn’t. Southland Tales isn’t like a bad “Saturday Night Live” sketch. It’s like a bad “Mad TV” sketch.

Slipstream -- If you ever wondered what would happen if Oliver Stone directed Inland Empire, this movie brings that terrifying concept to life. While this might sound intriguing to some of you, believe me, it’s not.

Bug -- I really wish I’d seen the stage play, but it cannot be denied that watching this with an average middle Maryland audience was an awesomely strange experience.

I Really Wish I’d Liked These More Than I Did:

We Own the Night -- By the end of the movie I had done some readjusting, but for pretty much most of the film I couldn’t stop thinking that this was the work of a precocious and talented director trying to mimic his heroes, as opposed to delivering a vision of his very own. In a way, my reaction to We Own the Night is similar to Zodiac, in that both films felt familiar, as if I’d watched them before, but We Own the Night never escapes its familiar world, while Zodiac establishes some weirdly original universe of its very own.

Dans Paris -- I plead guilty to thinking I was about to watch an entirely different type of movie, and since it wasn’t what I hoped it was going to be, it left me disappointed. So it’s my fault, not Christophe Honore's. That said, aside from the mere presences of Louis Garrel and Romain Duris, I wasn’t on board with this at all.

The Man From London -- For the first half hour, I was riding the Bela Tarr ski lift to the top of the mountain, but at some point the power shut down and I was left dangling in the darkness. It happens to the best of them, and this is unfortunately the film where it feels like Bela Tarr has begun to parody himself.

Grindhouse -- I guess this was harmless, but it certainly didn’t make me feel exhilarated in any way, shape, or form, and that’s what I’d been hoping for.

Thank God I’m Not In Art School Anymore:

I’m Not There -- I’m all for this in theory, but when it comes to execution... um... not so much.

The Worst of the Worst:

Redacted -- Brian De Palma should go to jail for this movie. Your way of expressing your disgust with our presence in Iraq is by contributing to the idiocy? Shame on you.

Captivity -- The world would be a better place if this movie hadn’t been made.

Silk -- Snoooooooooooze.

Fados -- I’m sure it didn’t help that I was watching this on three hours of sleep with a head-pounding hangover, but I still feel like it completely missed the point by staging its performances in front of an artificial Lisbon backdrop and not the real thing.

The Romance of Astree and Celadon -- I can’t put it any other way. This movie is fucking gay.

Look -- Crash meets Hard Candy.

Letdown of the Year:

Beowulf in 3D/IMAX -- Perhaps the fact that I stayed up until five in the morning making “Jolie in 3D!!!” t-shirts makes this my fault, but whatever the case, aside from some awesome action, this movie bored me.

Best Theatrical Experiences:

I Know Who Killed Me (Saturday, November 3, BAM) -- If ever there were an argument for watching movies with an audience, this screening was exhibits A-Z. One for the ages. Read this.

Runners Up:

Troll 2 (Friday, September 7, Landmark Sunshine) -- Did this night really happen? One of those glorious memories that makes me feel like I can die a happy, fulfilled man if and when that fateful day comes.

The Urim and Thummim (Tuesday, April 24, Green Hills Cinema) -- One of the more magical experiences on my film festival journey this year came at the Nashville Film Festival, where I was lucky enough to experience the world premiere of The Urim and Thummim alongside David Redmon, Ashley Sabin, Harmony Korine, and many others. The film itself warrants inclusion on this list, but it was the post-film Q&A that launched it into the stratosphere. Thank God for Nashville, Tennessee!

Norman Mailer Conversation and Double-Feature of Tough Guys Don't Dance and Maidstone (Sunday, July 22, Walter Reade) -- Norman Mailer's final public appearance stands tall as one of my all-time great NYC movie days, but almost better than that was that it gave me my first chance to experience the messterpiece that is Maidstone on the big screen.

Sleeping Dogs Lie (Friday, May 4, Charles Theater) -- Every year, John Waters presents a film of his choosing at the Maryland Film Festival. This year’s was a complete revelation for me. I have a hard time believing that Bobcat Goldthwait’s film has ever played more perfectly, and I’m thankful that I was there to witness the hilarity.

Satantango (Saturday, February 24, BAM) – Jesse Sweet and I are a two-man Cinemasochist crew, and while we missed our chance to suffer through the granddaddy of them all, Jacques Rivette’s Out 1, we did survive Bela Tarr’s masterwork. For the next several days, anywhere I walked I felt like I was being trailed by a Steadicam.

Killer of Sheep (Thursday, March 29, IFC Center) -- This midnight impromptu screening with friends was the perfect way to see Charles Burnett’s classic for the very first time.

Hannah Takes the Stairs (Sunday, March 11, Paramount Theater) -- It felt like everyone in the world was in the audience for the world premiere of Joe Swanberg’s touching little indie-that-could, which remains my favorite night of the 2007 South by Southwest Film Festival.

Best Non-2007 Films That I Discovered in a Theater in 2007:

Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (Sergei Parajanov, Ukraine)
Satantango (Bela Tarr, Hungary)
Killer of Sheep (Charles Burnett, USA)
Model (Frederick Wiseman, USA)
Primate (Frederick Wiseman, USA)
A Sense of Loss (Marcel Ophuls, UK)
Loving (Irvin Kershner, USA)
Leave Her to Heaven (John M. Stahl, USA)

Much Yumminess to Look Forward to in 2008 That I Have Already Seen:

Silent Light (Carlos Reygadas, Mexico)
Shotgun Stories (Jeff Nichols, USA)
Pineapple Express (David Gordon Green, USA)
Paranoid Park (Gus Van Sant, USA)
Snow Angels (David Gordon Green, USA)
Yeast (Mary Bronstein, USA)
Frontrunners (Caroline Suh, USA)
General Impression of Size and Shape (Alex Karpovsky, USA)
The Adventure (Mike Brune, USA)
Flight of the Red Balloon (Hou Hsiao-Hsien, France)
A Married Life (Ira Sachs, USA)

Films I Can’t Wait to See in 2008:

Pretty Bird (Paul Schneider, USA)
Baghead (Duplass Brothers, USA)
Goliath (Zellner Brothers, USA)
Mister Lonely (Harmony Korine, USA)
Chop Shop (Ramin Bahrani, USA)
Anywhere, USA (Chusy Haney-Jardine, USA)

And last, but certainly not least...

The Wire: Season 5

So, that about does it. If anyone out there has made it this far, I don't know whether to hand you a medal or a dunce cap.

Cinephiles rejoice! After wishing, hoping, and praying for what feels like centuries, the impossible dream has become a glorious reality. Yes, it's true. The films of Frederick Wiseman are finally available for purchase on DVD! Why haven't I read anything about this anywhere? I had to be alerted to it by none other than Ronald Bronstein. But where are all the critics and bloggers? This is a Major Cultural Event, people, one that should be causing raucous celebrations online and offline, inside and outside, here, there, and everywhere. If you love filmmaking, this is officially the greatest news ever!

Single films are selling for $34.95, and while they don't appear to contain any special features, that shouldn't deter you. I personally wouldn't have it any other way (though a blooper reel from STATE LEGISLATURE does sound appealing). Go to the Zipporah Films website for some last minute holiday shopping, or treat yourself right and start buying away. I confess that I've only seen around ten of Wiseman's films, but what I've seen invigorates me in a rare, beautiful way. HIGH SCHOOL is in my top fifteen of all-time. And in JUVENILE COURT, there is a scene that I consider to be one of the greatest exchanges ever committed to celluloid. After getting to see PRIMATE and MODEL on the big screen earlier this year, I'm convinced that the man has never made a bad film. Every second of Frederick Wiseman's work is fascinating and humane.

You're welcome.

***KINDA SORTA SPOILER ALERT: WHILE THIS DOESN'T GET OVERTLY EXPLICIT, I WOULD STILL ABSTAIN FROM READING IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE FILM***

Before I head to Greenpoint to watch edited footage of Mary Bronstein's YEAST for the very first time (I think that's still a tentative title, but I really want it to stick!), I thought I would publish her reaction to THERE WILL BE BLOOD.

I think this opinion is incredibly valid and deserves to be posted for the world to read. While my memory of the film has helped to soften the initial blow I felt while watching the last chapter, reading Mary's take reminded me that it might very well be okay to stick with my first-time opinion. She says things that I felt but am too stupid to express with my own puny brain. Thank you, Mary.

One important final note! For the record, Mary didn't write this with the intention of getting it published, but I did get her blessing to do just that, so here it goes:

re: Blood...I think I have processed all my thoughts. My thoughts regarding the ending are this: I do not think, as Karina suggested, that PTA intended for this scene to be funny, or for us to be laughing at or with this character all along (besides of course the sparse moments of humor thrown in). From what he was saying in his Q&A, he did not see humor in this story. This was a serious and tragic story that he was very emotionally involved in, as was DDL. DDL certainly did not seem to be saying he was playing the character as someone to be laughed at. AND if you laughed at this character he would surely find a way to kill you. That being said, I think that the weird turn at the end was an accident. A mistake. In other words, it wasn't supposed to, but it came out bad. I am tired of no one ever wanting to admit that something can just come out bad. PTA is not perfect. Just because something is weird doesn't mean there is something to "get," that it was meaningful in and of itself. He tried something with the end and it was a disaster. The main problem for me was, we didn't get to know the son at all, we didn't see him grow up, we don't know what he's like as an adult, and so...why should I be invested in his father going crazy on him? Sure, it resonates simply because the things he says are awful, but it is a mistake to throw in a completely different actor than we have been used to seeing and expecting us to connect. Certainly, if he had a similar confrontation with a younger aged son, we would be more in it. And then there is the problem with the acting. Sorry, people might stone me to death for this, but, DDL didn't pull off old and didn't pull off crazy. Just didn't. It didn't work. He tried, though. The rest of his performance was almost flawless, though. So...what we have here is a fabulous movie, an AWESOME movie that took a misstep at the end. And no one who considers themselves a cinemaniac will ever admit it! ARGH. I believe that what we were MEANT to get out of the ending is that the entire movie has been a character study about a man going crazy due to his incredible appetite for ambition, riches and power, not to mention personal shame about his son. So, he ends up alone in a giant empty house old and crazy. What was it all for? What good did it do him? INSTEAD we end up with later era Pacino pretending to be an old man talking about giant milkshake straws!!!!! That's my two cents. I am pretty sure no one agrees with me. I'd like to poll all the people riotously laughing in the theater.

I don't think I'm shocking the world by letting everyone know that I've had one particular Hollywood movie on my mind for the past several weeks. I've been quite obsessive about it, in fact. And now that I've seen it with 100% sober eyes, I can give you my official verdict:

Ladies and gentlemen, I now firmly believe that I KNOW WHO KILLED ME was 99.999999% unintentional. The Avant-Retarde Posse reunited last night for our first screening in several months (previous selections included LADY IN THE WATER and THE WICKER MAN remake). And while my enthusiasm for Chris Sivertson's biggish-budget debut hasn't waned, my previous conviction that it was a miraculous lovechild of Mr. Intentional and Mrs. Unintentional has been flushed down an uncloggable toilet. In one sense, it was completely intentional. But in another sense--you know, the actual finished product sense--well, that's when things start to get ugly. Or, if you're a weirdo like me, that's when they start to get totally fuckin' awesome! I'll get into this later hopefully, but I do want to point out that the blooper reel on the DVD has officially one of the most incredible bloopers you will ever see. If you watch the movie, there's a moment in the local-church-that-has-been-converted -into-a-high-tech-FBI-office, when a random townsperson who clearly wasn't cast in this production suddenly finds his way into the movie and says, in reaction to the actors' dramatic explanations of what could have happened, "But they didn't count on her will to live!" This delivery is so shockingly out of place and wrong that the actors seem to break character to look at this gentle, bearded man and wonder whose grandfather has wandered onto the set and when are they going to take him back to the retirement home. Anyway, in the blooper reel, he flubs a line that is indescribably glorious. It helps to see his horrific performance in the actual movie before watching the outtake, but if you only have fifteen seconds, I would suggest renting the DVD for that moment alone. In summation, I still stand behind my initial reaction. I KNOW WHO KILLED ME is one of the year's most staggering achievements. I'm just now convinced that it was entirely unintentional.

Oh yeah, and I just saw another movie I've kinda been looking forward to. It's called THERE WILL BE BLOOD. I told myself I wasn't going to publish my thoughts until I'd let it sink in for at least a day, but I'm convinced that while the passion of my opinion will soften, the opinion itself won't. The opinion is this (and don't worry, there won't be any literal spoilers, but you're about to get a strong reaction thumbed into your eyeballs):

WHY DID THEY TURN ONE OF THE BEST MOVIES I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE INTO A COMEDY IN THE LAST REEL???!!! Seriously, what happened? Did they take a production break before the "1927" conclusion and forget that they'd been crafting a flat-out masterpiece of dramatic terror? At what point did Daniel Plainview leave Marfa only to be taken over by Bill the Butcher at Clown Camp? What rationale could lead someone to establish such a brilliant groove for over two hours, only to upend it for the film's climax? Granted, there were moments of humor throughout the first two hours, but they fit in with the general tone. But the final reel derailed into a straight up comedy (until the final shot, which I stand behind and think is just about perfect). And don't get me wrong, I'm going to wake up tomorrow dying to see this movie again, and when I see it again I'll know what's coming and will be able to readjust and appreciate what happens. But I think it's important to acknowledge one's initial reaction, because who knows if we'll get hit by a bus tomorrow and never get to see it again.

Speaking of buses, my bus just drove off a cliff into the What In The Hell Are You Talking About Sea.

I don't know, man. I feel like so many of this year's Hollywood movies (NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN especially) are sooooooooo fucking close to Epic Greatness, but it's like the filmmakers give in to their most niggling indulgences and include moments that rip me out of the movie and leave me feeling an undeniable sense of detachment, followed by a major crush of disappointment. This might sound ludicrous to a lot of you, but for my money, films like GREAT WORLD OF SOUND, FROWNLAND, and ONCE are ultimately more successful than THERE WILL BE BLOOD and NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN, because they feel like more wholly unified works. Or, let me put it this way:

Say your good buddy has never seen any of these movies. Now throw on the last scene of THERE WILL BE BLOOD. Does that feel at all like the movie that preceded it? If you say yes, that's fine. I disagree. To me, a lot of that footage felt like I was watching THE AVIATOR, not CITIZEN KANE (whereas beforehand, it was the other way around). I felt an immediate shift once we were inside that mansion in 1927. Was it merely a visceral shock after having been outside in glorious nature for so long? Perhaps, but I think it was much, much more problematic than that. But let us move on. Now throw on the taxicab scene with Kelly Macdonald and her Vicki Lawrence-esque mother in NO COUNTRY, or much of the Woody Harrelson footage. Does that feel like the same movie? Now throw on any scene in GREAT WORLD, FROWNLAND, or ONCE. While moods change, I'm still confident that every scene in those movies reflects the overall heart of the picture. With BLOOD and NO COUNTRY, I'm not so sure. (Again, I concede that a second viewing of NO COUNTRY went more smoothly for me, as will my second of BLOOD.)

It's late right now and I have to wake up early so I should probably save this to a Word file and spend at least a week revising, reshaping, and thinking more deeply on the subject. But of course I'm a spontaneous bozo and I'm going to publish it anyway. Let me conclude by saying that THERE WILL BE BLOOD is an incredible, extraordinary work, and I am in awe of Paul Thomas Anderson's directorial vision. The first ninety minutes is as good as I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot of good. So many great decisions. Things like just when I was beginning to think that he could maybe afford to stop moving the camera in every single shot, he did just that. Every choice felt better than perfect. It was heading towards All Time Greatness. And then... well, give me a few days and I'm sure I'll retune my strings and play a really pretty chord.

Oh yeah. One last thing. And I hope to get a thread going down below with this one. The other issue I have with the final reel is the whole "jump ahead in time" concept. Of course, I know why this was necessary, but it seems like every time this happens in a movie my suspension of disbelief gets the fiznuck out of Dodge. That's why I'm even more worried about THE EASTER PARADE adaptation than REVOLUTIONARY ROAD. My question is this: what movies have pulled off this... let's say at least thirty years... evolution and have succeeded? Right now two movies that spring to mind are ONCE UPON A TIME IN AMERICA and GOODFELLAS, but that's all I can think of. Oh yeah, THE BEST OF YOUTH worked very well for me. Anybody out there who can list some even better examples?

(One final-final note: Don't be surprised when my next post says that I'm now convinced THERE WILL BE BLOOD is a flawless masterpiece for the ages. We don't treat films as patiently as we do albums. The first eight times I heard The Walkmen's BOWS + ARROWS, I thought it was fine but forgetful. And now I consider it to be one of my favorite New York City records. I could list countless examples of that happening. And I feel confident that THERE WILL BE BLOOD is a work that will get more and more incredible upon subsequent viewings. Of which there will be many. I'm sure of that.)

Actually, there will be a boner in my boxers when I wake up tomorrow morning. Actually, there already do be a boner down there. That's because the day has finally come to see THERE WILL BE BLOOD with my own two eyes! I must profess that it wasn't until PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE that I became an official believer in the power of Paul Thomas Anderson, but I feel confident that he's shaken off the youthful bravado that kept me from appreciating his earlier work. While it's always been clear that the man has an extraordinary gift, with his first few films I couldn't shake the feeling that I was watching the work of a precocious kid who was aping his influences too directly to be anything more than impressive, but aggravating, mimicry. Oh yeah, and I was really, really jealous of him (forgive me, Father, for I am a baby). But something happened with PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE that made me think PTA was finally tapping into himself as much as his influences, and while my recent viewing of A PERFECT COUPLE made me realize that he hadn't abandoned Altman completely--he had simply chosen to tackle obscure Altman--the film still had a sincerity and intimacy that felt 100% PTA, as opposed to the other ones that felt about 55% PTA at best. Saturday night I was in a kitchen surrounded by screaming, drunken film critics (yes, that really is as hilarious as it sounds) and the nearly universal consensus is that THERE WILL BE BLOOD is a work of the highest order. I will be sure to let you guys know what I think once the smoke has cleared.

In other NYC cinema news, I'd like to remind everyone that the week-long HOLY MODAL ROUNDERS party is still taking place at the Anthology. I'll be there Wednesday night for the screening and post-film performance by the one-and-only Muscular Christians at Parkside Lounge. If you haven't gone yet, you should. Only two more nights to experience the magic!

Uptown at the Walter Reade, this year's Spanish Cinema Now series is off and running. It's too late to recommend the opening night selection, Felix Viscarret's UNDER THE STARS, but in case you come across this title again, I very much recommend it. While the general synopsis makes it sound familiar--down on his luck guy moves back to his tiny hometown when his dad dies and learns valuable lessons along the way--the film itself takes many unexpected turns and is surprisingly frank and raw. But the rawness never gets too raw, and it is this delicate balancing of hope and hopefulness that makes UNDER THE STARS such a rewarding experience. The film also contains one of my favorite shots of the year, a slow-motion dusk-for-night gem that left me breathless.

Did I mention that I have a boner?

Since everyone is throwing in their gleeful support for BILLY THE KID, which opens today at the IFC Center, I figured I would do the same thing. To be completely honest, it took a while for me to determine where I stood with the film, but at some point (I need to see it again to figure out which moment triggered the shift) I gave in and it let it take me away completely. For me, what elevates Jennifer Venditti's debut is that it's not just an enthralling verite portrait of a truly distinct individual, it shines as a moving, heightened metaphor for the universally torturous condition that is adolescence. This is especially true in the diner scenes where Billy gathers the courage to talk to his damsel in distress, Heather. These two seeming outsiders, coming together to perform the impossibly nerve-wracking ritual of becoming boyfriend and girlfriend for the first time, is a wonder to behold. And when the inevitable happens, it's impossible not to feel a genuine punch to the gut, more so because you knew it was coming all along. As lucky as Matt and I got with SILVER JEW, Jennifer got even luckier with her discovery of Billy, and her first-time filmmaker eye allows the story to unfold in an unobtrusive, natural way. I can't wait to see it again, and I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone.

In Hollywood news, just in case you hadn't already heard, I can confirm with my own stunned ears that it is, in fact, true: Huey Lewis is contributing an original song to the PINEAPPLE EXPRESS soundtrack. On the heels of Karina's recent post, this is an even funnier turn of events. Go here to read a quote from Seth Rogen about it, then scroll down and prepare to have your mind blown by the glory that is James Franco. His KNOCKED UP moment is funny, but it's his parody of THE HILLS with Mila Kunis that somehow captures the magic of his PINEAPPLE EXPRESS performance better than the clip of PINEAPPLE itself does. Wait, check that. Watch the moment in the PINEAPPLE clip when he says, "Myyyy second favorite civil engineer...", then watch it again. The man is a straight up genius. Combine that with Danny McBride and you have a comedy that is destined to become a classic. I can't wait to see this movie on opening weekend with an audience! As for the Huey song, I won't say much other than WOW.

Yes, I stayed up until four in the morning making t-shirts in preparation for this past Friday afternoon's field trip to Lincoln Square for BEOWULF in IMAX and 3D.

Yes, I was actually excited for this field trip, so much so that I don't dispute the claim that I said, "This is the greatest Friday afternoon ever!" while getting settled in my seat.

But then the movie started and that was pretty much that.

While I don't dispute the further claim that I said, "This is fucking A-MAZ-ING!" on several occasions during the trailer for the U2 concert film, and even the first five or so minutes of BEOWULF itself, I also don't dispute the claim that I actually drifted off to sleep midway through the movie.

If BEOWULF had been thirty minutes long and had simply been a showcase for the crazy 3D trickery, with action, action, and more action, I would be singing its praises. Instead, I am not. A nonexistent, bunk story is a nonexistent, bunk story, with or without snazzy 3D technology. For the record, I personally don't find Angelina Jolie appealing enough for her golden nudeness to have hypnotized me into slack-jawed submission. When I look at her I can't help but see Jon Voight, and while I think he's a terrific actor, he doesn't get my loins tingling.

Disheartened while leaving the theater, I made the troops rally to take a picture anyway, ordering us all to act as if we had yet to see the movie and were gliding on adrenaline in preparation for the awesomeness that was to come. While I don't think any of us will be winning an Oscar anytime soon (check that, Jacob's performance is pretty incredible!), I felt compelled to share this ridiculous image with the world.

(From L-R: Michael Tully, Christof Gebert, Michael Lerman, and Jacob Craycroft.)

All praises due, once again, to the honorable David Lowery for informing me about an upcoming Museum of Moving Image sponsored screening of THERE WILL BE BLOOD at the Chelsea West on December 11th. Both PTA and DDL will be in attendance. While I'm sure I could find my way into a free screening sometime within the next few weeks, these are the reasons why I live in New York City and so I have sucked it up and bought a ticket for what promises to be a very special night. Go here to buy tickets for yourself.

Speaking of special nights, Max Richter more than delivered last night. The set list played like the COCAINE ANGEL soundtrack, something that I tried very hard to ignore, but it was just about impossible not to. Max said that he's trying to arrange a more legitimate tour in the spring, and I hope that comes to fruition, because I could certainly use a night like that in my life at least once or twice a year. Soooooo pretty.

But back to the honorable David Lowery, whose latest contribution to the "Ola Podrida Music Video Project" is another fine achievement. While the Ola Podrida record has no lesser tracks on it, album closer "Eastbound" is a particularly beautiful number. Teaming up with Barlow Jacobs (LOW AND BEHOLD), David delivers an inspired interpretation of the other David's sad and pretty song. Watch it in funky fresh HD right here, or if you're too lazy to click on the link watch a lower res version right here:

Ola Podrida - Eastbound from David Lowery on Vimeo.

If I hadn't just seen I KNOW WHO KILLED ME, I would have no problem calling NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN this year's one and only studio-produced masterpiece. But now that I've seen both, I genuinely think IKWKM is the winner of that coveted title (I still haven't seen THERE WILL BE BLOOD or many other still-to-come releases, so I'll reserve official judgment for my geeked out year-end wrap-up). That said, at least three times while I watched NO COUNTRY at the NYFF press screening, I thought to myself, "This might be the best movie I've ever seen in my life." Having not read the Cormac McCarthy novel, I have to say, the third act anti-climax left me feeling a visceral, immediate sense of disappointment and confusion. It took me a few minutes after the film had ended to intellectualize and come to terms with the unexpected playing out of events. When I did manage to do that, my overall enthusiasm returned. Still, I cannot deny that I felt a strange lack, so I'm here to warn first-time viewers--WITHOUT PROVIDING ANY SPOILERS--that the third act takes a perhaps unexpected turn with the narrative. My advice to you is to simply go with it and worry about all of that after the film has ended.

As for the movie itself, wow-wow-wow-wow-wow-wow-WOW. When FARGO was released and critics were labeling it a "modern classic," I wasn't too sure about that. Yes, I thought it was very good, but it wasn't extraordinarily great in my estimation. But when it comes to NO COUNTRY, I want to use all the superlative flags that were being waved in front of FARGO. I realize that we all have our Coen Brothers movies that we'd call masterpieces (for me it's BARTON FINK, for almost everyone else it's THE BIG LEBOWSKI), but NO COUNTRY has the air of being an objective masterpiece. Roger Deakins' cinematography, the sound design (who knew the lack of a score could create even more tension? The Coen Brothers did!), every single performance, this is filmmaking that is firing perfectly on every single cylinder. I don't just recommend that you see this movie in a theater, I DEMAND IT. (Also, I'm going to be Javier Bardem's terrifying cipher of a killer, Anton Chigurh, for Halloween next year; you heard it here first.)

On a different note, I finally saw Jim Brown's PETE SEEGER: THE POWER OF SONG at the IFC Center last night, and I found it to be incredibly inspiring (during the last fifteen minutes, as applause erupted around me, I found myself fighting away a stream of tears that wanted to make an appearance on my face). In a world that is losing its sense of community at a shameful, alarming rate, Pete Seeger's mission is more vital then ever. Granted, times have changed and it would be silly (not to mention impossible) to take the exact same approach in our quest to retain a semblance of humanity in this corporate, soulless, and impersonal world, but the fact remains that music, positivity, hope, peace, and a sense of connection between human beings is what makes life worth living.

In my current state of low seratonin, it's hard for me to turn the film into a positive right away--all I can see is how far off track we are--but there is no denying the power of this movie and the overall power of Pete Seeger's mission. At one point, he quit his wildly successful band, The Weavers, because he didn't want to appear in a cigarette ad. The thought of this reminded me how pathetic I am and how difficult it is to exist right now, especially living in the big city. If someone called me today and said they'd pay me five hundred bucks to make a commercial promoting cigarette smoking, I would take the money and start shooting right away. And I, like Pete Seeger, hate-hate-hate cigarettes. Okay, if that really happened I would say no, but the fact remains that this man never once budged in his morals and ethics, and it is a sight to see, especially when you're a shell of an adult like myself, who wants to be a better person but has somehow become a shriveled leaf in a tornado, letting the world push him around like a picked-on kid in a bully-filled playground.

It's too late to point you in the direction of Sergei Parajanov's awesome (and I mean that in the epic sense of the word) SHADOWS OF FORGOTTEN ANCESTORS, which screened at BAM this past week in a striking new print (can someone give programmer Jake Perlin a Medal of Honor, please?), but I had to mention it. It's rare that a film delivers on the promise of so much mushy gushing by seemingly every critic who's ever seen it, but SHADOWS straight up shocked and awed me. Honestly, watching it I was thinking just how much it put to shame something like Herzog's AGUIRRE (I've always had issues with that based on the hammy presence of Klaus Kinski), and I couldn't help but make a positive comparison to the great COME AND SEE. This is one of those classic works that you realize influenced just about every one of your favorite movies, but, somehow, it might be even better than all of them combined. How in the hell did they pull of some of those shots?! The best part is that I'm convinced it will only get more majestic and beautiful on subsequent viewings. I can't wait to see it again.

I disagree with those people who have been whining that this has been a bad year for cinema. When contemplating going to a movie, we as New Yorkers have the luxury of choosing from more than just this year's slate of new releases (which I personally think has been fine, but that's a story for a different day). 2007 has presented me with some of the most exciting repertory experiences one could possibly imagine, such as: the Robert Altman retrospective at the IFC Center, Bela Tarr's SATANTANGO at BAM, the Norman Mailer retrospective at the Walter Reade and Anthology Film Archives, the Museum of Moving Image's "Uneasy Riders: American Film in the Nixon Years, 1970-1974" series, the Film Forum's comprehensive "NYC Noir" lineup, and of course the midnight screening of TROLL 2 at the Sunshine. But this past Saturday night, I had an experience to shatter all of those combined and confirm 2007 as one of the all-time greats. (Note to readers: I know I can get embarrassingly hyperbolic on this site, but please excuse me while I break out my can of Harry Knowles’ First Female-Induced Ejaculate for this post. It warrants it.)

The event was called Take Over BAM, and it was a major success. The basic concept was to open up shop after hours and turn the entire Brooklyn Academy of Music into a more youth-oriented multimedia extravaganza. In the opera house, bands played; elsewhere, DJs spun; burlesque performers burlesqued, artists exhibited, etc. But, of course, the main attraction for me was the cinematic portion of the event. Each screen had its own specific agenda. In one was Nicolas Winding Refn’s grimy THE PUSHER TRILOGY. In another was a set of classic music docs (GIMME SHELTER, ZIGGY STARDUST AND THE SPIDERS FROM MARS, STOP MAKING SENSE, THE FILTH AND THE FURY). In a third was something titled “When Animals Hug,” featuring a bunch of films in which animals stepped into (or, more aptly, were dragged into) the spotlight. But it was in the last theater where my mind was blown into a trillion pieces, during the “Lindsay Lohan Mid-Career Retrospective.” No, I’m not talking about FREAKY FRIDAY, MEAN GIRLS, or THE PARENT TRAP. I’m talking about this:

I can’t wrap my head around the fact that this movie came out three months ago, for that technically makes it a 2007 release (and that shows just how cruel this world is, how this thing somehow managed to slip through the cracks). That also makes it a shoo-in for my top ten of the year (maybe even top five). But it cannot be denied that the circumstances surrounding the screening made it feel different than a typical new release, so there are a few different factors at work here. Let’s not worry about those for now. Or maybe we should. I’m too dizzy to know how to approach this one. Let me just dive in headfirst and see what happens…

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