2008 Top 10

Better late than never, though in my defense I wanted to hold off until I'd had the opportunity to see a couple more films before making my list (sadly it looks like The Wrestler won't be here for a while, if at all, and Frozen River and Synechdoche, New York never made it). So here it is, my Top 10 of 2008:


#10: 4 months, 3 weeks, 2 days
Yes, technically this is a 2007 film which is why it’s only at #10. This stark and brutal slice of life in Ceausescu’s Romania is the kind of movie that stays with you in all its hardboiled glory.


#09: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
David Fincher’s epic is flawed to be sure but it features a number of the most beautiful film sequences to be seen this year (my favourite? Daisy’s mist backdropped ballet for Benjamin).


#08: The Visitor
A quiet little character film with a bittersweet ending that will leave you lamenting its honesty. Great performances abound, starting with Richard Jenkins who finally gets a shot at the lead after toiling in character parts for decades.


#07: The Dark Knight
The high-water mark of the comic book genre. I don’t know how the next instalment in the Batman series can possibly top it, but I’m waiting with baited breath to see. Heath Ledger’s untimely death was tragic but at least he got to go out on a high note, ending his career with a truly amazing performance.


#06: Milk
A timely film with a lot of heart and a fantastic performance by Sean Penn. Director Gus Van Sant deftly blends fiction with news and documentary footage to raise this story above the confines of its genre.


#05: Slumdog Millionaire
This is a film which positively hums with energy, weaving a spell with its Dickensian tale of poverty, enduring love and, ultimately, triumph of the little guy over seemingly insurmountable obstacles. A brutal and beautiful film.


#04: Wall-E
This latest release from Pixar captured my heart, which came as a surprise to me because I’m generally not big on animated films. It succeeds on all levels: it looks great, it has a strong message, and it managed to make a trash compacting robot a compelling protagonist.


#03: Happy-Go-Lucky
More than any other film I saw this year, Mike Leigh’s latest made me feel, well, happy. Playing the eternally chipper lead character, Sally Hawkins renders the best performance of the year and makes it seem effortless.


#02: My Winnipeg
Not quite a documentary and not entirely a fiction, this merger of genres and forms is unlike any other movie released in 2008. Oh Maddin, you master, you maverick, you marvel!


#01: Fugitive Pieces
This was one of the first theatrical releases I saw this year and it has stayed with me ever since. Jeremy Podeswa’s poetic examination of the power of memory is a beautiful film which stands the test of time and stands up after multiple viewings. No film moved me more in 2008 than this one.

Review: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)

* * * *
Director: David Fincher
Starring: Brad Pitt, Cate Blanchett

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is a beautiful, glossy epic about enduring love, the inevitability of loss, and the futility of fighting against the current of time. I can see from other reviews that this is proving to be a divisive film, one you either love or hate. Well, I loved it and let me tell you why:

The film traces two lives, one going backward and one going forward. First we meet Daisy (Cate Blanchett), on her deathbed in a New Orleans hospital as hurricane Katrina bears down, and then, in flashback, we meet Benjamin (Brad Pitt), whom doctors give up for dead as soon as he’s born. Benjamin suffers from a strange affliction which makes it appear that he’s an old man when he’s just a baby and as time carries on it becomes clear that he’s getting physically younger with each year. He’s raised by Queenie (Taraji Henson) in a home for the elderly where he seems to fit right in and where he meets Daisy, who appears to be decades younger than him, though in actuality they were born only a few years apart. Benjamin grows down and Daisy grows up and they drift away from and back towards each other until the time finally comes when they’re about the same age.

The success of the film rests largely on the ability of Pitt and Blanchett to play the span of decades, which both accomplish with admirable skill. Obviously makeup and computer graphics have been used to aid in their physical transformations, but these are performances that add up to a lot more than visual trickery. Pitt’s role is especially difficult because the younger he looks, the older he must seem and he imbues Benjamin with the quiet wisdom of a man who has seen and experienced much and solemnly accepts that things change and that sometimes holding on to the past does more damage than good. Blanchett is luminous, particularly as Daisy attempts to negotiate the shifting balance in her relationship with Benjamin as he becomes more youthful and “perfect” while she grows older as less perfect.

The film is based on the short story of the same name by F. Scott Fitzgerald but departs from it pretty significantly. In fact, the only things the two works really have in common are the premise, the name of the protagonist and the title, which isn’t a bad thing because while Fitzgerald’s piece is well-written, it’s ultimately quite frivolous and lacking in resonance. The film, on the other hand, is very moving once you get past the fact that it’s been built on a template borrowed from Forrest Gump (both screenplays were written by Eric Roth). There were moments when I felt that Button was a bit derivative, but it ultimately won me over, which is no mean feat given that it reminded me of a movie that I loathe. But while Gump is hung on a maudlin string of too clever by half pop culture references, Button doesn’t spend half its running time winking at you.

I doubt that even the greatest champion of this film would argue that it’s without its flaws. With a running time of nearly 3 hours it’s long and there is a lot of fat that could have been trimmed from it. You could also argue that the longest section of the story concerns Benjamin and Daisy when they’re at their least interesting – during that sweet spot where they’re level with each other in terms of age. I would certainly agree that both Pitt and Blanchett are at their best as the elderly versions of their characters, and I would also agree that it occasionally wanders too far into the realm of sentimentality. All that being said, however, it struck a chord with me and I enjoyed it immensely.

Review: Slumdog Millionaire (2008)

* * * *
Director: Danny Boyle
Starring: Dev Patel

It’s strange that a movie which begins with scenes of torture, which traces a life of poverty and brutality, can end up being so uplifting, but that’s the magic of Danny Boyle’s Slumdog Millionaire. I didn’t expect to like this movie as much as I did; I figured I’d react in much the same way I reacted to Juno, another movie I didn’t get the chance to see until after it had received a mountain of praise: it’s good, but it’s not that good. Well, Slumdog is that good.

The story is cut up into two threads which will eventually merge. In the present day Jamal (Dev Patel) is a contestant on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, being viciously questioned by the police on suspicion that he’s cheated his way to the million dollar question. As they go through the questions he’s been asked, he explains how he knew the answers, relating the story of his life in the process. This method of storytelling isn’t particularly groundbreaking but Boyle breathes life into it, running many of the flashback scenes at a frenetic pace and a sometimes startling intensity. The present day scenes act not only to break up the story into digestible pieces, but also offer the opportunity to catch your breath.

Jamal has had a hard life. Orphaned at a young age, he and his brother, Salim, live a vagabond lifestyle, having various adventures as they try to survive and make a place for themselves in the world. Latika (played as an adult by Freida Pinto), a fellow orphan, becomes a point of contention between the brothers and the driving force in Jamal’s life. She proves elusive to Jamal, always, somehow, slipping through his fingers. The older they grow, the further away from him Latika seems to drift and Boyle consistently films her to emphasize that distance and the mirage-like facet of her being, showing her reflected in mirrors, through glass which distorts her image – she’s more dream than reality for Jamal.

Though the fairytale romance – with Jamal cast as the pauper turned prince and Latika as the captive princess – is the driving force giving shape to the narrative, underneath the romantic sheen is the harsher reality. The film never looks away from the poverty which surrounds Jamal and the very ordinariness of children playing (and living) in heaps of garbage makes it all the more jarring. As Jamal grows and Bombay becomes Mumbai and globalization takes hold, transforming the skyline with big, modern buildings, the poverty remains. When Jamal and Salim meet again as adults at the top of a building under construction, Salim points to an area of the city below them and states that their slum used to be there. It’s a business district now, a sign of progress sweeping through the city – but with all this progress the people at the lowest echelons of society haven’t been raised out of poverty, they’ve just been moved further to the fringes. Things are just as bad as they’ve ever been; you just have to look for it in a different place now.

This movie reminded me a little of Fernando Meirelles’ brilliant City of God - though Slumdog is about ten times less depressing, perhaps because its ending is less realistic. The optimism of the film’s conclusion works, though, because rather than deriving from material gains (Jamal never seems like he cares much about the money), it stems from the connection between one human being and another, which has no monetary value and which I think everyone can relate to on some level. It’s a fantastical story, but also very human and that’s what makes it so powerful.

Review: Milk (2008)

* * * *
Director: Gus Van Sant
Starring: Sean Penn, Josh Brolin, James Franco, Emile Hirsh

As wonderful as Gus Van Sant’s film is, it’s sad to think that its subject is still so very relevant. Harvey Milk was assassinated 30 years ago, but gay rights remains a battleground issue and ignorance and hatemongering are still tools powerful enough to disenfranchise an entire segment of the population in a society founded on the principal of equality. Though Milk’s untimely end was tragic, the film itself is triumphant, a celebration of the power that people have to make a difference. With its message of hope and unity, Milk is the right movie at the right time.

The film begins with Milk (Sean Penn) dictating a message in the event of his assassination. Throughout the story Van Sant will cut back to this scene, using it to tie the segments of the film together. In the story proper we first meet Milk in New York, where he celebrates his 40th birthday by picking up Scott Smith (James Franco) in the subway. Together Milk and Smith move to San Francisco, where they live a hippie lifestyle and open a camera store. Faced with the threat of discrimination from other shop owners in addition to the police and local government, Milk takes his first steps into the realm of activism, first organizing the gay community to boycott shops that aren’t gay friendly and later rallying the community to support striking teamsters, who would in turn agree to hire more gay drivers.

Milk runs for office on a number of occasions and comes a little bit closer to victory with every campaign. His political life, however, takes a heavy toll on his personal life, and his relationship with Smith becomes a casualty of his ambition. Since Smith was one of the driving forces behind the earlier campaigns, a replacement must be found and Milk shocks his crew by choosing Anne Kronenberg (Alison Pill). The scene is brief, but it does something important: it acknowledges the rift between men and women within the gay community (“My girlfriends say you guys don’t like women. Just asking, is there a place for us in all this, or are you scared of girls?” Kronenberg asks) and emphasizes Milk’s desire to unite and speak not just for gay men, but for all people who aren’t represented in government. This time Milk wins, gaining a seat on the Board of Supervisors. Also elected to the board is Dan White (Josh Brolin), who at first appears to be a potential ally but grows increasingly hostile to Milk, whose political star shines while White’s quickly fizzles out.

The relationship between Milk and White is complicated, to say the least. Even as he’s trying to form a political alliance with Milk, White tries to make it clear that he’s a “family values” kind of guy - though Milk thinks that perhaps he doth protest too much. The defining factor, though, seems to be less homophobia than simple jealousy. Milk gets things done, accomplishing things which make his constituents happy and elevating him to heroic status, while White finds himself in the political wilderness, without allies and entirely ineffective. Brolin is excellent as he shows White’s growing desperation; it’s a subtle performance in which many things are suggested rather than spelled out. However, much like White exists in Milk's shadow, Brolin's performance is dwarfed by the stellar turn by Penn. Penn is someone I think of as a capital “A” actor, someone whose off-screen persona suggests a high level of seriousness and intensity, a dourness that often carries over to their characters. Here, however, Penn renders a performance that is absolutely joyful. When was the last time you could say that? I have to think back to 1999’s Sweet and Lowdown to even come close to the kind of elation which he radiates in this film. Penn doesn’t simply make you empathize with Milk, he makes you understand why others look to and follow him.

A lot of biopics fall into the trap of relating the story in the manner of a laundry list of events that must be touched on, and while Milk isn’t entirely able to sidestep this element, it does manage to keep the story moving without halting over a series of “this happened and then this happened” moments. Van Sant knows the story that he wants to tell and he relates it smoothly, intercutting between dramatization and news and documentary footage, and managing to avoid becoming soggily sentimental about his subject. The Milk presented here is heroic, yes, but not perfect and not without his flaws, and the film is unafraid to point those flaws out, usually through Smith who remains an important part of Milk's life even after they've broken up.

In light of all the anti-gay legislation which passed in the United States in November, it’s hard to watch the section of the film which deals with the defeat of Proposition 6 without it feeling a little bittersweet. At the same time, however, I do feel encouraged that things are changing for the better. I remember when I saw Brokeback Mountain and there were groans of distaste at even the slightest moment of intimacy between the two men. I saw this film – which is a little more explicit than Brokeback - in a full theatre and nothing of the kind happened. In fact, the only time the audience expressed distate was every time Anita Bryant openned her hateful mouth. It’s a small thing, but progress is progress.

Review: Happy-Go-Lucky (2008)

* * * *
Director: Mike Leigh
Starring: Sally Hawkins, Eddie Marsan

I see a lot of movies. I’m fortunate that a lot of those movies that I see are also quite good, though it’s still rare for me to see a movie that genuinely makes me feel better about the world around me. As I walked out of Happy-Go-Lucky, I felt really, really happy. It’s as simple as that. This movie enchanted me from its first minute and held me rapt right through to its last.

Happy-Go-Lucky comes from writer/director Mike Leigh and, like most of his films, it unfolds at a natural, life-like pace rather than at a pace driven by plot development. Its focus is more on character than plot, which can make it a little hard to describe but I’ll do my best. Poppy (Sally Hawkins in an absolutely delightful performance) is a perpetual optimist who would like nothing more than to see other people as happy as she herself is. Her upbeat attitude and her willingness to really listen to people make her perfect for her job as a grade school teacher and for her role as unofficial mediator between her two sisters.

At the other end of the spectrum the film gives us Scott (Eddie Marsan), Poppy’s driving instructor. Scott is a dark, angry man, full of prejudices ranging from racism to homophobia to general hatred of every other driver on the road. He and Poppy get off to a rough start immediately when he criticizes her choice of shoes (“I don’t look good in flats,” she explains. “I don’t care how you look,” he replies, already at the limit of his patience) and continue to clash over their very different outlooks on life. At first Poppy simply tries to get Scott to lighten up and then she tries to get him to open up and reveal the roots of his anger. These scenes manage to alternate easily between being funny (I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get into a car again without thinking, “En-ra-ha!”), scary and sad. It’s Poppy’s ability to navigate this complex and often volatile relationship that reveals the deeper shades of her character.

The success of this movie depends on the performance by Hawkins. In lesser hands, this character would have been totally insufferable, but Hawkins makes it work. I think the key is that Poppy’s sunny disposition is never made to seem like self-protective delusion or constructed facade; Poppy just is one of those “high on life” kind of people who can’t help but find something to smile about. It’s a winning performance and it’s surrounded on all sides by other great performances. From Marsan as the tightly-wound and obviously wounded driving instructor to Alexis Zegerman as Poppy’s best friend and roommate, the film is populated with very skilled and naturalistic acting.

Mike Leigh’s trademark is that his work comes largely from improvisation, but that isn’t to say that the final product ever lacks control or guidance. The film doesn’t simply meander from adventure to adventure; it has a nice, natural flow as it follows Poppy through various aspects of her life from her job to her driving lessons, from outings with friends and a trip to visit one of her sisters, and a couple of segments which take place in a flamenco class taught by a hilariously passionate instructor. With Leigh steering the story it manages a nice balance of elements and the end result is a film that is charming and compelling.

Review: The Visitor (2008)

* * * *
Director: Thomas McCarthy
Starring: Richard Jenkins, Hiam Abbass, Haaz Sleiman,Danai Gurira

The Visitor is a tricky little movie: it starts by letting you think it’s going to be one thing and then it switches gears and becomes another, but remains wonderful nonetheless. Every once in a while as a filmgoer you’re fortunate enough to see a movie so rich and alive that its characters stay with you long after the story is over. The Visitor is one of those movies.

Walter (played brilliantly by Richard Jenkins) is a widower and university professor who has largely given up. He has no connection to anyone or anything, even his work which, after 20 years, has become meaningless to him, an exercise in repetition. He’s co-authored a paper with a colleague - though he confesses that she did all the writing and all he did was read it over for her – and when she’s unable to present it at a conference, he’s sent in her place. The conference is in New York, where he still keeps an apartment even though he’s never there. Arriving there he discovers that someone else has been making use of it: Tarek (Haaz Sleiman) and his girlfriend, Zainab (Danai Gurira).

Walter lets Tarek and Zainab stay and Tarek teaches him to drum. I’m reluctant to reveal much more of the plot because it turns in some surprising ways, dexterously sidestepping the plot developments that you think you can see coming to set itself in a different direction. I will say that a fourth character is introduced, Mouna (Hiam Abbass), who is Tarek’s mother and who has a profound effect on Walter. I will also say that the title has multiple meanings. Tarek, Zainab and Mouna are each, in a technical sense, visitors in the States and, at different times, in Walter’s apartment. But Walter, too, is a visitor, both in the way that he arrives at his apartment and seems more like a guest than a host, and in the way that he’s the only person able to go and see Tarek when a misunderstanding makes it impossible for either Zainab or Mouna to be with him.

Writer/director Thomas McCarthy is very smart in the way that he lets the story unfold. He allows scenes to develop their own pace and rhythm, allows the characters room to breathe and to grow in a natural way. There is not a single thing about this movie that feels forced, and that is as much a credit to McCarthy as it is to the actors, each of whom seems to fit so effortlessly into their respective roles. When you watch these four actors - and in particular when you watch Jenkins and Abbass, who light up the screen in their scenes together – you see minimalist acting at its best. A lot goes unsaid in this movie, expressed instead through gestures and body language.

The Visitor is a movie that is perfect in so many ways that I find it difficult to fully express my admiration for it. I can only hope that as the year comes to a close and awards begin to get handed out, that some attention can be paid to this film, which is so deserving of recognition for its screenplay as well as the performances by Jenkins and Abbass.

Canadian Film Review: My Winnipeg (2008)

* * * *
Director: Guy Maddin
Starring: Anne Savage

Guy Maddin’s My Winnipeg isn’t quite a documentary, nor is it entirely a fiction. It’s more like a magic realist memoir, an evocation of time and place filtered through nostalgia and fantasy and personal mythology. I didn’t come away from it feeling as though I’d learned much about Winnipeg (anything factual, at any rate), but I was thoroughly entertained and, by the end, quite moved by this absurdist and surreal love letter to a city.

The film unfolds in an anecdotal fashion as Maddin relates stories about his family and childhood interspersed with stories both real and imagined about the city of Winnipeg itself. Winnipeg is home to the greatest number of sleepwalkers in the world, we learn, and also, for one winter, the location of a dozen frozen race horses who fled into a lake and remained trapped there until the Spring thaw. These stories and others are related in a way that is both humorous and sad, told from the perspective of someone who at once longs for the past which can never be recreated, but also wants to escape into something new and different. While “fact” and “fiction” are liberally blended to the point where it becomes difficult to distinguish between the two, the resonant and poetic way in which Maddin narrates his stories makes you want to believe that it’s all true, and you find yourself as engrossed by what you know to be fiction as you are by what you know to be fact.

If you’ve ever seen a Guy Maddin film, you’ll be familiar with the aesthetic at play in this one, a design which brings to mind films from the silent era and early sound era, and editing which emphasizes the juxtaposition of images rather than masking that juxtaposition beneath the narrative. In the film Maddin will blend archival footage, animation, home video, still photos, and recreations starring kids whom he acknowledges to be actors playing his siblings and a woman he would have us believe is actually his mother, though in reality she is actress Anne Savage.

The figure of his mother is central to the film’s story, the heart of the heart much as he declares that Winnipeg is the heart of the heart of Canada. She is the all knowing figure who seems to possess the keys to the past, symbolically tying Maddin to his hometown. It is her that he is trying to escape, and it is to her that he finds himself continually drawn back by memory and love and shared experiences. She is the constant in the midst of continual change – for the worse, Maddin believes, particularly in the realm of hockey arenas – as the past is slowly swept away through the city, torn down, demolished, and rebuilt as something new and soulless.

There are a lot of good directors, people who consistently produce solid, well-made films; but there are only a few genuinely great directors, people who redefine the boundaries of cinema and storytelling, whose films are so distinctly their own that no other artist could possibly have made them. I believe that Guy Maddin has earned his place in this latter category. Every time I see one of his movies, I’m just so grateful that someone like him exists and is making movies like this one.

Review: 4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days (2007)

* * * *
Director: Cristian Mungiu
Starring: Anamaria Marinca, Laura Vasiliu

It’s unfortunate that 4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days didn’t make the shortlist for foreign language selections at last year’s Oscars, because it makes an interesting counter-point to Best Picture nominee Juno. While Juno flirts briefly with “procuring a hasty abortion” that she could get with relative ease, the two women in this film go to great lengths to have an abortion performed under questionable circumstances which could land them in jail if found out. Director Cristina Mungiu doesn’t pull any punches in this film, which is absolutely brutal in the way that it unfolds.

Otilia (Anamaria Marinca, in an amazing performance) has agreed to help her roommate Gabriela (Laura Vasiliu) get an abortion, an illegal procedure in 1980s Romania and one which will have to be undertaken with great care and secrecy. Although Gabriela is the one having the abortion, it’s Otilia who does all the leg work, getting the money together, getting the hotel room where it will be performed, and meeting the abortionist. Gabriela is so completely passive during this whole situation that you almost wonder whether the abortion itself was even her idea.

The story takes place over the course of about 24 hours, during which time Otilia must deal not only with Gabriela’s situation, but also her own problems, namely the fact that she’s promised her boyfriend, Adi (Alexandru Potocean), that she’ll come over for his mother’s birthday. When she arrives he chastises her for being late and forgetting the flowers, and then she’s given a place at the overcrowded table filled with people she doesn’t know, snobby members of the intelligentsia who makes her keenly aware of her own humble origins. The dinner scene is in some ways even more uncomfortable to watch than the scenes of the abortion being performed.

This movie, told in such an unflinching and almost cold way, reminded me a lot of Vera Drake, which also examines the issue of abortion. Neither film particularly advocates abortion, but both are critical of anti-abortion legislation. Regardless of whether you’re pro or anti-choice, it’s difficult to argue against the point of both these films, which is that anti-abortion laws disenfranchise women, especially those of lesser means. Realistically, if a woman really wants to terminate a pregnancy, she’ll find a way to do it whether it’s legal or not and regardless of the danger. In this film, Gabriela has arranged the services of a man named Bebe (Vlad Ivanov), who is already irritated with her for sending Otilia to meet him instead of coming herself, and for getting a room in the wrong hotel. When it comes out that the women don’t have quite enough to pay him, he tells them that they can make up the balance by having sex with him. Afterwards he gets the procedure started and then leaves before it’s completed, so that the two women have to deal with the actual expulsion, clean-up and disposal on their own. There’s nothing about this situation which makes me think it’s in any way preferable to allowing doctors to legally and safely terminate pregnancies.

Everything in this movie falls on the shoulders of Marinca, as the story seems to be propelled forward by the sheer force of Otilia’s will. Gabriela almost seems like an afterthought – shots are composed so that your gaze is directed to Otilia; in fact, sometimes you have no choice but to look at her. This isn’t meant to take anything away from the performance by Vasiliu, who plays Gabriela as someone determined to go through life believing that if she just ignores something long enough, it will go away on its own; it’s just that the film is so completely dominated by the mesmerizing performance at its centre.

Review: The Dark Knight (2008)

* * * *
Director: Christopher Nolan
Starring: Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Aaron Eckhart

Is The Dark Knight the best comic book movie ever made? It’s hard to say, so thoroughly does the follow-up to Batman Begins transcend the boundaries of its genre and become something else entirely. It’s far too cerebral to be labelled simply “a comic book movie” or an “action movie;” it’s a morality play in which the villain is less a means of causing chaos and destruction than he is a way of challenging the hero on moral and intellectual grounds.

The story picks up more or less where Begins left off: Gotham is still under siege by the mafia underworld, but is in the process of being cleaned up by people like Lt. Gordon (Gary Oldman), D.A. Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart) and A.D.A. Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal). Batman (Christian Bale) is there, too, of course but is a divisive figure within the city as some people seem him as a saviour, others as a dangerous vigilante who ought to be stopped. The mob is on the verge of being shut down but then the Joker (Heath Ledger) enters the picture to throw a wrench into the plan. Gotham is soon plunged into terror and a series of choices are made which cause Bruce Wayne/Batman, as well as Dent and Gordon, to question the moral codes by which they live and conduct their business.

More than anything, the Joker functions as a mirror for Batman. Both are “freaks,” as the Joker happily points out, both scarred by events in their past (the Joker literally, Batman metaphorically), one acting out his trauma by attempting to bring order to the city, the other by attempting to dismantle it completely. The mob is willing to work with the Joker only for as long as they need him, and the authorities are willing to condone Batman’s actions only for as long as they have to – once the city is cleaned up a bit, he’ll go back to the top of the most wanted list. Batman and the Joker are two sides of the same coin (or, for the morbid amongst us, the two sides of Harvey Two-Face). Dent and Gordon function as mirrors of each other as well, with Dent playing the role of idealist driven off the rails and into performing the very actions he’s meant to stand against, and Gordon playing the role of realist (“I work with what I’ve got,” he says, explaining why cops who have a history of being on the take are still on the force) who is able to maintain his place on the moral high ground through his ability to see the various shades of grey which reside in between black and white.

A lot has already been written about the performance by Ledger, so I’ll simply say that it’s everything you’ve already heard, and focus instead on the film’s other two great performances: those of Eckhart and Oldman. Eckhart is wonderful, perfectly managing Dent’s transformation from hero to villain and becoming the film’s most compelling character. There’s something almost operatic about the arc of this character, who goes from being as good as Batman to as disfigured and twisted as the Joker. As for Oldman, he provides a solid anchor for the film as the character with the least ambiguous moral authority. It's a quiet role but Oldman does more with it than you might expect.

I really only have one criticism of the film, and it’s the same criticism I had of Begins, which is the length. You could easily cut twenty minutes out of this film while still maintaining its power. That begin said, however, the film is powerful; I was more moved by it than I had been expecting. The Dark Knight is definitely more than just your average summer movie fare.

Review: Wall-E (2008)

* * * *
Director: Andrew Stanton

Wall-E is a film of incredible ambition and intelligence, executed in a way that is absolutely flawless. With its lovable protagonist, strong message, admirably well-constructed story, and beautiful animation, this is a film that is destined to become an instant classic.

Wall-E takes place 700 years in the future, where mankind has spent the last several centuries waiting for waste disposal robots to make earth inhabitable again. Amid skyscrapers of garbage and the last remnants of civilization, only one of these robots has remained functional and continues to do his work. This, of course, is the titular Wall-E, who spends his days gathering trash and compacting it into little cubes, and also scavenging for items of interest (if, in fact, robots can be “interested” in something). One day something new arrives in Wall-E’s lonely world – a space craft which soon departs but leaves behind Eve, a drone sent to search for signs of organic life. Wall-E is instantly smitten and soon he’s showing Eve his collection, which includes a plant he finds growing inside an old refrigerator. The plant is the key to the story, signalling as it does that earth is once again able to sustain life and that the 700 year cruise (originally slated to last a mere 5 years) can finally come to its conclusion… if, of course, the robots in control of the ship can be overthrown.

I should state at the outset that I’m not someone who gravitates naturally to animated films. This isn’t to say that I have anything against animation, it’s just that as an adult I’ve rarely felt myself compelled to seek out animated movies. Even Pixar’s films, which are decidedly impressive and well-made, rarely draw me into the theatre (of all their films the only ones I’ve seen aside from this are Toy Story, Monster’s Inc. and Finding Nemo). That being said, I was delighted by the breadth and scope of this particular film. This is a story that really has a lot to say about the way we live right now and the direction our society is heading, and it does so in a way that’s pointed and intelligent. Our culture is superficial and disposable – look at the things that surround Wall-E on earth: he rolls over an expanse of garbage and up to an abandoned superstore that stretches as far as the eye can see; he covets items such as sporks (but can’t decide whether to include them in his collection of spoons or his collection of forks) and an old videotape of Hello Dolly! (of all movies why Hello Dolly!? Does anyone ever think of this movie anymore? – I think that’s the point; we’re a culture of fads, of loving something one minute and abandoning it the next in favour of something else).

The film is also critical of mankind’s dependence on machines to make life easier. After generations aboard the cruise liner, people have become enormous, getting around aboard their hover chairs, speaking to each other via screens directly in front of their faces – even when the person to whom they’re speaking is cruising along right beside them. When someone falls out of his hover chair, he lies on the ground, helpless like a turtle on its back, waiting for a robot to come along and put him back where he belongs.

There’s far too much going on in Wall-E for me to mention every thing I enjoyed about it, but I did want to mention just one more thing: the absolutely awesome evocation of 2001: A Space Odyssey, which brings the film to a whole other level of genius.

Canadian Film Review: Fugitive Pieces (2008)

* * * *
Director: Jeremy Podeswa
Starring: Stephen Dillane, Rade Serbedzija, Robbie Kay

Jeremy Podeswa’s Fugitive Pieces is a lyrical and moving treasure of a film. Narratively elusive, it examines both the power and the fragility of memory, its characters haunted by what they remember – and what they’ve forgotten – as they attempt to reconcile the past to the present. Wonderfully crafted and beautifully brought to life both in front of and behind the camera, this is an absolute must-see of a movie.

The story centers on Jakob, played as a boy by Robbie Kay and as a man by Stephen Dillane. As a boy in Poland, Jakob is the only member of his family to escape the Nazis, watching from his hiding place as his older sister, Bella, is dragged away by soldiers. He’s eventually found by Athos (Rade Serbedzija), a Greek geologist who takes him to the island of Kefallonia and keeps him safe for the duration of the war. Athos becomes an anchor in Jakob’s chaotic life, a man who is gentle and protective, extraordinary for the way that he unflinchingly performs tasks which, in different circumstances, would be ordinary but during the Nazi occupation put him directly in danger. At war’s end, the two emigrate to Canada, where Athos has been offered a teaching position.

Jakob grows up, becomes a writer, marries and divorces then marries again, all while attempting to reconcile his first life to his second. Every new experience and each new language he learns (first Greek then English), seems to erase part of his past and drives him to record his memories before they can be lost. Over time he begins to realize that he can’t fixate on his past and that he must begin to let go. The catalyst for this realization is the relationship of his neighbour, Jozef (Diego Matamoros) to his son, Ben (Ed Stoppard). Jozef and his wife are concentration camp survivors whom Jakob will know for most of his life, becoming in a way a member of their family. Throughout his childhood, Ben seeks refuge in the apartment of Jakob and Athos, clinging to Jakob when it’s time to go home. Jakob sees how hard Jozef is on his son, berating him for throwing away a half-eaten apple (“Our son doesn’t know the value of things,” he laments to his wife, then questions why they lived if their son can’t understand how precious half an apple would have once been to them). The past has taken its toll on Jozef and Jakob, but they aren’t the only ones who suffer. Those who love them often bear the brunt of their memories.

The story unfolds in a non-linear, fragmented way, with past and present weaving in and out of each other across the delicate links of memory. Some of the most moving sequences of the film are simply images unfolding as Jakob’s voice-over reveals the contents of his writing. Generally speaking, adaptations that rely on voice-over narration come across as somewhat weak to me, denoting a filmmaker too in love with the novelist to make the work their own. However, in this particular case, I wasn’t bothered by it at all, partly because the story is told in such an intensely personal way that it seems wholly appropriate, and partly because the prose itself is simply so beautiful.

This is a really wonderful movie, a haunting meditation on how our past shapes our present even as our memories begin to elude us. This is the first masterpiece of 2008.