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We probably wouldn't get enough participation for a poll this year, but at least we can post our own personal lists.
1. Laurence Anyways (Xavier Dolan, Canada)
2. The Great Beauty (Paolo Sorrentino, Italy)
3. Stories We Tell (Sarah Polley, Canada)
4. Blancanieves (Pablo Berger, Spain)
5. The Wind Rises (Hayao Miyazaki, Japan)
6. Stoker (Park Chan-Wook, USA/UK)
7. 12 Years A Slave (Steve McQueen, UK/USA)
8. Her (Spike Jonez, USA)
9. In The House (François Ozon, France)
10. The Wolf Of Wall Street (Martin Scorsese, USA)
Honorable Mention: The Grandmaster (Wong Kar-Wai, China), Before Midnight (Richard Linklater, USA), The Past (Asghar Farhadi, France/Iran), Inside Llewyn Davis (Coen Bros, USA), Night Across The Street (Raúl Ruiz, Chile), To The Wonder (Terrence Malick, USA), The East (Zal Batmanlij, USA), All Is Lost (JC Chandor, USA), Faust (Alexander Sokurov, Russia), Upstream Color (Shane Carruth, USA), From Up On Poppy Hill (Goro Miyazaki, Japan), Blue Is The Warmest Color (Abdellatif Kechiche, France)
Acting Citations: Suzanne Clément (Laurence Anyways), Leonardo DiCaprio (The Wolf Of Wall Street), Toni Servillo (The Great Beauty), Melvil Poupaud (Laurence Anyways), Julie Delpy (Before Midnight), Brit Marling (The East), Zhang Ziyi (The Grandmaster), Michael Polley (Stories We Tell), Chewitel Ejiofor (12 Years A Slave), Pauline Burlet (The Past), Adele Exarchopoulos (Blue Is The Warmest Color), Cate Blanchett (Blue Jasmine)
If anyone cares, here's some capsules for my Top 10 I wrote for my barely-used blog:
1. Laurence Anyways (Xavier Dolan, Canada)
One of the great relationship films, painted in both bold, colorful strokes and the most naked, candid details. A surprisingly wise perspective from a young auteur not even 25 years old putting himself in the shoes of a couple from their 30s to their 40s. Viewed by some as overlong and indulgent, there is as much soul as there is style, and characters you’re happy to spend more time with and sorry to say goodbye to. Heartbreaking yet rapturous for the future of the artform.
2. The Great Beauty (Paolo Sorrentino, Italy)
Rome spread out before our eyes, its midnight mysteries and its aching decay, the wry observations of the aging party scene cognoscenti as well as the regrets and anxieties they keep close to the vest. Satirical and suspicious of institutions yet relishing the heartbeats and drumbeats of the revelers and saving a little room for lost love.
3. Stories We Tell (Sarah Polley, Canada)
In this quasi-documentary (and her third feature), actress Polley turns the camera on herself, or more accurately her entire extended family. The central mystery slowly and cleverly unfolds to the point where we are forced to re-evaluate all we have seen and heard. A brilliant exploration of the unreliable narrator and as the title makes plain, the nature of storytelling. And despite the narrative trickery a very moving experience.
4.Blancanieves (Pablo Berger, Spain)
Its novel thunder sadly stolen during production by the success of The Artist, this B&W silent homage draws inspiration from different, more continental sources, and one can see glimpses of early Russian, French, and German cinema in its visual approach. Yet the atmosphere and iconography are Spanish through and through, bringing a fresh angle to the Snow White tale. Unforgettable photography and music, and images that delight and haunt. An instant classic that feels more like an unearthed treasure from way back.
5. The Wind Rises (Hayao Miyazaki, Japan)
The (supposed) swan song from a legendary cinema artist, and surely the most towering voice in animation post-Walt Disney. Returning to his long obsession with flying machines, the story is Miyazaki’s most grounded in realism, and while ostensibly a loose biography of a notable Japanese figure, it also serves as a remembrance of the director’s own childhood. The pastoral imagery ranks alongside those of the old masters Ozu and Mizoguchi, and the scattered scenes where the imagination runs wild bear echoes of past flights of fancy from Miyazaki’s filmography. A fitting farewell.
6. Stoker (Park Chan-wook, USA/UK)
The English-language debut from Korean filmmaker Park may be dismissed as a simple genre exercise, but shows the director totally in command of cinematic language, featuring bravura camera movements and matched cuts. His follow-up to the modern vampire film Thirst runs along similar lines, minus the fangs and sanguinary excess, influenced by Hitchcock’s Shadow Of A Doubt (and perhaps Czech classic Valerie And Her Week Of Wonders), most notably in terms of the coming-of-age arc of its main character. This prim variation of Southern Gothic has a distinctly analog design, the only trace of technology a contemporary luxury car and an unused mobile phone. A genuinely creepy original in a tired genre.
7. 12 Years A Slave (Steve McQueen, UK/USA)
Yes, a brutally powerful representation of a dark period in history. But more importantly a tactile, sensory experience in a particular time and place. The rotation of a riverboat paddlewheel, the burning embers of a discarded distress letter, and the ambient sounds of the South, perpetual even when providing the soundtrack to disturbingly mundane atrocities. A rare work that rides the delicate balance between detached artistic presentation and visceral engagement (with noteworthy contributions from its actors).
8. Her (Spike Jonez, USA)
Exploring the age-old process of recovering from emotional wounds and returning to the fray, the film at times seems a variation on the subgenre of Wise Aliens Visit Earth To Teach Humanity A Lesson, rather than an unique comment on human interaction in the digital age. The creative production design aside, this is more valuable for its sensitivity to common traumas than the strangeness of its story (which is normal compared to Jonez’ collaborations with Charlie Kaufman), with a welcome dosage of humor.
9. In The House (François Ozon, France)
Voyeurism has been a key theme for filmmakers including Hitchcock, Michael Powell, Fritz Lang, and David Lynch. What sets this film apart is the lack of a reflexive comment about cinema, as it concerns itself with literary observation and fantasy, its main protagonists a perceptive (and perverted) creative writing student and his increasingly obsessed teacher. Its condemnation of bourgeois hypocrisy reminiscent of Chabrol but with the added twist of (once again) the unreliable narrator. Devilish fun.
10. The Wolf Of Wall Street (Martin Scorsese, USA)
On the surface not as poetic, reflective, or ambitious as much of his recent work, but in a sharp left turn Scorsese produces what is one of the most fast-paced and political films of his career: a relentless, cynical tableau of American greed and corruption. Firing breathlessly on all cylinders for much of its long running time, sequences are pumped up to maximum energy and volume, which abruptly drop out intermittently for dazzling, drawn out scenes of hilarious improvisation. This technique serves to keep the viewer breathless and off-kilter, forced to pause and come to terms with the collateral damage of the debauchery on display.
1. Laurence Anyways (Xavier Dolan, Canada)
2. The Great Beauty (Paolo Sorrentino, Italy)
3. Stories We Tell (Sarah Polley, Canada)
4. Blancanieves (Pablo Berger, Spain)
5. The Wind Rises (Hayao Miyazaki, Japan)
6. Stoker (Park Chan-Wook, USA/UK)
7. 12 Years A Slave (Steve McQueen, UK/USA)
8. Her (Spike Jonez, USA)
9. In The House (François Ozon, France)
10. The Wolf Of Wall Street (Martin Scorsese, USA)
Honorable Mention: The Grandmaster (Wong Kar-Wai, China), Before Midnight (Richard Linklater, USA), The Past (Asghar Farhadi, France/Iran), Inside Llewyn Davis (Coen Bros, USA), Night Across The Street (Raúl Ruiz, Chile), To The Wonder (Terrence Malick, USA), The East (Zal Batmanlij, USA), All Is Lost (JC Chandor, USA), Faust (Alexander Sokurov, Russia), Upstream Color (Shane Carruth, USA), From Up On Poppy Hill (Goro Miyazaki, Japan), Blue Is The Warmest Color (Abdellatif Kechiche, France)
Acting Citations: Suzanne Clément (Laurence Anyways), Leonardo DiCaprio (The Wolf Of Wall Street), Toni Servillo (The Great Beauty), Melvil Poupaud (Laurence Anyways), Julie Delpy (Before Midnight), Brit Marling (The East), Zhang Ziyi (The Grandmaster), Michael Polley (Stories We Tell), Chewitel Ejiofor (12 Years A Slave), Pauline Burlet (The Past), Adele Exarchopoulos (Blue Is The Warmest Color), Cate Blanchett (Blue Jasmine)
If anyone cares, here's some capsules for my Top 10 I wrote for my barely-used blog:
1. Laurence Anyways (Xavier Dolan, Canada)
One of the great relationship films, painted in both bold, colorful strokes and the most naked, candid details. A surprisingly wise perspective from a young auteur not even 25 years old putting himself in the shoes of a couple from their 30s to their 40s. Viewed by some as overlong and indulgent, there is as much soul as there is style, and characters you’re happy to spend more time with and sorry to say goodbye to. Heartbreaking yet rapturous for the future of the artform.
2. The Great Beauty (Paolo Sorrentino, Italy)
Rome spread out before our eyes, its midnight mysteries and its aching decay, the wry observations of the aging party scene cognoscenti as well as the regrets and anxieties they keep close to the vest. Satirical and suspicious of institutions yet relishing the heartbeats and drumbeats of the revelers and saving a little room for lost love.
3. Stories We Tell (Sarah Polley, Canada)
In this quasi-documentary (and her third feature), actress Polley turns the camera on herself, or more accurately her entire extended family. The central mystery slowly and cleverly unfolds to the point where we are forced to re-evaluate all we have seen and heard. A brilliant exploration of the unreliable narrator and as the title makes plain, the nature of storytelling. And despite the narrative trickery a very moving experience.
4.Blancanieves (Pablo Berger, Spain)
Its novel thunder sadly stolen during production by the success of The Artist, this B&W silent homage draws inspiration from different, more continental sources, and one can see glimpses of early Russian, French, and German cinema in its visual approach. Yet the atmosphere and iconography are Spanish through and through, bringing a fresh angle to the Snow White tale. Unforgettable photography and music, and images that delight and haunt. An instant classic that feels more like an unearthed treasure from way back.
5. The Wind Rises (Hayao Miyazaki, Japan)
The (supposed) swan song from a legendary cinema artist, and surely the most towering voice in animation post-Walt Disney. Returning to his long obsession with flying machines, the story is Miyazaki’s most grounded in realism, and while ostensibly a loose biography of a notable Japanese figure, it also serves as a remembrance of the director’s own childhood. The pastoral imagery ranks alongside those of the old masters Ozu and Mizoguchi, and the scattered scenes where the imagination runs wild bear echoes of past flights of fancy from Miyazaki’s filmography. A fitting farewell.
6. Stoker (Park Chan-wook, USA/UK)
The English-language debut from Korean filmmaker Park may be dismissed as a simple genre exercise, but shows the director totally in command of cinematic language, featuring bravura camera movements and matched cuts. His follow-up to the modern vampire film Thirst runs along similar lines, minus the fangs and sanguinary excess, influenced by Hitchcock’s Shadow Of A Doubt (and perhaps Czech classic Valerie And Her Week Of Wonders), most notably in terms of the coming-of-age arc of its main character. This prim variation of Southern Gothic has a distinctly analog design, the only trace of technology a contemporary luxury car and an unused mobile phone. A genuinely creepy original in a tired genre.
7. 12 Years A Slave (Steve McQueen, UK/USA)
Yes, a brutally powerful representation of a dark period in history. But more importantly a tactile, sensory experience in a particular time and place. The rotation of a riverboat paddlewheel, the burning embers of a discarded distress letter, and the ambient sounds of the South, perpetual even when providing the soundtrack to disturbingly mundane atrocities. A rare work that rides the delicate balance between detached artistic presentation and visceral engagement (with noteworthy contributions from its actors).
8. Her (Spike Jonez, USA)
Exploring the age-old process of recovering from emotional wounds and returning to the fray, the film at times seems a variation on the subgenre of Wise Aliens Visit Earth To Teach Humanity A Lesson, rather than an unique comment on human interaction in the digital age. The creative production design aside, this is more valuable for its sensitivity to common traumas than the strangeness of its story (which is normal compared to Jonez’ collaborations with Charlie Kaufman), with a welcome dosage of humor.
9. In The House (François Ozon, France)
Voyeurism has been a key theme for filmmakers including Hitchcock, Michael Powell, Fritz Lang, and David Lynch. What sets this film apart is the lack of a reflexive comment about cinema, as it concerns itself with literary observation and fantasy, its main protagonists a perceptive (and perverted) creative writing student and his increasingly obsessed teacher. Its condemnation of bourgeois hypocrisy reminiscent of Chabrol but with the added twist of (once again) the unreliable narrator. Devilish fun.
10. The Wolf Of Wall Street (Martin Scorsese, USA)
On the surface not as poetic, reflective, or ambitious as much of his recent work, but in a sharp left turn Scorsese produces what is one of the most fast-paced and political films of his career: a relentless, cynical tableau of American greed and corruption. Firing breathlessly on all cylinders for much of its long running time, sequences are pumped up to maximum energy and volume, which abruptly drop out intermittently for dazzling, drawn out scenes of hilarious improvisation. This technique serves to keep the viewer breathless and off-kilter, forced to pause and come to terms with the collateral damage of the debauchery on display.
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