The best film of 2001 was not a booming epic, a star-studded Hollywood party or a mind-erasing thriller, but a small, delicately powerful film about the dynamics of human interaction in the wake of a tragedy. First-time director Todd Field directs with meticulous and subtle attention to detail, and career-high turns from Sissy Spacek, Tom Wilkinson and Marisa Tomei bring out a top-notch script, adapted from a short story by Andre Dubus. Absolutely staggering.
The fact that Hollywood managed to nail this one almost makes me want to forgive them for everything else they botched this year. Almost. But, with that said, the first cinematic installment of one of the most beloved trilogies, stories and epics in history made its mark, roaring to life as one of the biggest motion picture events of all time. “Fellowship” has accomplished something of a triumvirate so rarely seen in Hollywood these days. First, it is an excellent film: well-directed, well-acted and well-scripted, with attention to detail and some of the most gorgeous art direction and cinematography of the year. Second, it is an excellent adaptation of its source material: not perfect, but not needing perfection, as it keeps the spirit of Tolkien’s beloved literature alive and burning. Also, it packs a hell of a wallop, and is the year’s most enjoyable movie experience, hands down.
Cheers to the chameleonic David Lynch, who has hit a creative jackpot with the most wildly mind-blowing film of the year. While many dismissed the release as little more than cinematic masturbation, they failed to realize that the film is also a thrillingly irreverent cross examination of the Hollywood system, and the most satisfying satire on the subject since Robert Altman’s “The Player” (1992). Mulholland Drive, which almost became a television series on ABC, is one of 2001’s most infectious films, featuring trippy visuals, breakout performances (most notably by blonde bombshell Naomi Watts) and some of Lynch’s best work in 20 years.
The skillful Jean-Pierre Jeunet, the mastermind behind sleeper hits and cult classics “Delicatessen” (1991) and “City of Lost Children” (1995), has struck gold once again, delivering an adorably warm film about life, love and happenstance, anchored by one of the warmest leading ladies in recent memory, Audrey Tautou. Jeunet’s delicate touch has transformed a simple story into one of the finest foreign language films in years, guaranteed to melt hearts of even the most cynical viewers. The greatness of this engrossing fable is a throwback to the career primes of Federico Fellini or Francois Truffaut, and a reminder that great filmmaking is still rooted in art, even in an age where such a concept too often takes a backseat to commercial bombast.
In their continuing quest to redefine film genres as we know them, Joel and Ethan Coen this time take a stab at film noir in giving us this beautiful, eerily captivating examination of one man and a life that seems to pass him by, affecting him but never allowing him to actively participate. Billy Bob Thornton creates one of the most memorable characters of the year in Ed Crane, a barber whose one-track, meaningless life seems to revel in its own single dimension as the people he knows, often more caricature than character, wildly self-destruct around him. Razor sharp performances from Thornton, Frances McDormand, James Gandolfini and Tony Shalhoub combine with an all-too-Coen script and beautiful black-and-white cinematography from master Roger Deakins to create the Coens’ best film since 1996’s “Fargo.”
So engrossing was this savagely powerful beast — Mexico’s 2000 entry into the Academy Awards — that it has stayed with me even a year after it hit theaters. Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu’s harrowing saga, literally translated as “Love’s a Bitch” due to its exploration of relationships using dogs as a recurring them, pays generous homage to the great “vignette movies” of recent years: Tarantino’s “Pulp Fiction,” Altman’s “Short Cuts” and P.T. Anderson’s “Magnolia.” Then it goes one step further and puts an original spin on the genre, offering a profound ending with unsuspected payoffs and original follow-ups that were obviously the brainchildren of a talented director. Never had I suspected that this dynamite film would survive the entire year and turn up on the top ten.
Leave it to one of the greatest contemporary American directors to add to his own hall of fame in the twilight of his career. “Gosford Park,” which is Altman’s best film in ten years and comparable to his excellent “McCabe and Mrs. Miller” and even his brilliant “Nashville,” presents some of the year’s most interesting characters in an inspired ensemble comedy-drama. The film could have stood as a solid murder mystery, but Altman goes one step further and makes a witty, engrossing period picture in which the characters involved are even more interesting than the solution to the crime. “Gosford Park” has also given us the best ensemble cast of the year: a who’s who of British talent (most notably Maggie Smith, Stephen Fry, Kristin Scott-Thomas and a stirring Helen Mirren), brought to life by Altman, who has a good shot at a long-deserved Best Director Oscar.
One is obviously more adult-oriented: a thinly-veiled blast at all things Disney with, of all things, an ugly green ogre for a protagonist, and the other is geared toward children, fully enveloping the tried-and-true Disney formula for the studio of the same name. But both of those are moot points when placed next to the implications of both films on the future of animation: this is the 21st century and computer graphics are taking over. You could argue forever about which film is better, funnier and has a longer staying power, but I say let’s admire both of them for being fantastic examples of moviedom’s omnipresent new art form.
One of the year’s most underrated films was this firebomb from the Hughes Brothers, who deftly brought the story of Jack the Ripper to life. The film boh offers a possible solution to the killer’s identity and succeeds in keeping the sense of mystery that has always followed the legend of the London serial killer. A successful script only elevates gorgeous art direction and above-par cinematography: a substantive movie that also looked really good. Johnny Depp and Robbie Coltrane headline a mostly solid cast in a first-rate suspense thriller that was too quickly dismissed by both critics and audiences.
“A Beautiful Mind” is this year’s “Pollock”: a somewhat pedestrian film elevated to greatness by solid directing, a fine script and the year’s best acting performance. Russell Crowe, as schizophrenic Nobel prize winning mathematician John Forbes Nash, is virtually assured his second Best Actor Oscar, let alone his third nomination in a row, in a performance that cements his status as one of the best working actors in film today. Equally deserving of accolades are Jennifer Connelly, stepping up with heartfelt grace in the role of Nash’s wife, Alicia; Akiva Goldsman, for transforming difficult subject matter into an accessible and sophisticated script; and Ron Howard, who after years of directorial misfires has finally gotten it right.
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