Photos from my trip to Curacao are finally up on my flickr page.  Click HERE to view the whole set.

New album (their first in *seven* years) coming in May; 2012 just became a little brighter for me.

1. DRIVE
We go to movies for the seductive thrill of entering a world that, no matter how relatable, exists apart from reality–after all, even the most cinema verite documentaries are ultimately just versions of the truth. DRIVE not only creates a world that could only exist in a movie but proudly, blatantly references other films to a degree that would shame even Quentin Tarantino. And yet, even as one plays spot-the-allusion, the film never seems derivative or empty because it’s so gleefully, compellingly drunk on its own allure. With Ryan Gosling (perfect as a cipher who reveals a little too much when his mask slips) in the driver’s seat and director Nicolas Winding Refn meticulously mapping his way,  they craft a Los Angeles tableau full of gripping chase sequences, brutal (but rarely gratuitous) violence and magnetic, minimalist cool.

2. WEEKEND
Proving that contemporary gay cinema doesn’t have to solely consist of frothy rom-coms barely good enough to air on Logo, Andrew Haigh’s intelligent, poignant film is a small wonder. Eschewing a high-concept plot, it’s simply about two guys who hook up at a bar and spend 48 hours fucking, chatting, ingesting copious substances and walking all over town, trying to make sense of their newfound connection and what comes next. With an incisive screenplay and strong performances from both Tom Cullen and Chris New, WEEKEND thoughtfully explores how messy, startling and beautiful it is when two people seek and find a certain intimacy with each other.

3. ANOTHER YEAR
As dependable as Loach or Ozu, Mike Leigh’s latest portrait of working-class Brits dealing with personal and familial issues centers on a happily-married couple (Jim Broadbent and Ruth Sheen, both solid as always) surrounded by miserable sods—in particular, Mary (the astounding Lesley Manville), a walking encyclopedia of patented Leigh ticks and embarrassing behavior. Fortunately, this time Leigh steps out of his (dis)comfort zone with more compassion for (if no less criticism of) his characters. Even Mary shows signs of redemption by the film’s end, but the risky place in which Leigh ends the film suggests he’s refined rather than softened his edge.

4. UNCLE BOONMEE WHO CAN RECALL HIS PAST LIVES
In this playfully lyrical rumination on death, the titular character recounts past “vessels for his soul” to his family as additional long deceased or disappeared relatives return (one in the guise of a “monkey ghost”) to guide him towards his next rite of passage. With his usual wry, mystical bent, director Apichatpong Weerasethakul blends fantasy and reality together so fluidly that both become interchangeable and otherworldly—particularly in the final scene where he throws in a monkey wrench of sorts that perplexes but also disarmingly engages in its offhanded whimsy and suddenness.

5. THE ARBOR
A sensation at age 18 and dead at 29, British playwright Andrea Dunbar wrote what she knew: in her work, set in the tough council estate she lived in (which gave both her first play and this film its title), she explicitly drew from her surroundings and own experiences to the point where her art and life became indistinguishable. Clio Bernard’s documentary takes this initiative a step further as she interviews Dunbar’s neighbors, children and other relatives, but does not show them onscreen, instead casting actors to lip-synch their words. The result is philosophically profound, exploring layer upon layer of Dunbar’s life, impact and legacy, and also surprisingly cathartic.

6. THE ARTIST
A tribute to silent cinema in the way director Michel Hazanavicius’ OSS 117 films (also featuring gifted comic actor Jean Dujardin) were to 1960s spy flicks, but with one crucial difference: whereas those films slyly lampooned while remaining true to their predecessors’ spirit, THE ARTIST is more affectionate and even a little earnest towards its subject. Referencing everything from A STAR IS BORN to CITIZEN KANE and beyond, the film is less notable (but no less impressive) for its wow factor (a black-and-white silent film made in the 21th century!) than it is as a lovingly assembled, first-rate, old-fashioned melodrama.

7. POETRY
Between this and SECRET SUNSHINE (which recently, finally came out on domestic DVD), Korean director Lee Chang-Dong emerged as one of my favorite filmmakers this year. Quieter (and less genre-focused) than fellow Korean Bong Joon-Ho, his tone and scope are more in line with other Asian auteurs like Hirokazu Kore-ada or Hou Hsiao-Hsien. As a woman edging towards the early stages of Alzheimer’s, Yun Joeng-Hie gives a complex, subtle performance as her life vacillates between a moral quandary brought on by her grandson and both the frustration and enlightenment she finds within an introductory poetry class.

8. TINKER TAILOR SOLDIER SPY
Everyone associated with this John le Carré adaptation is at the top of their game here: Gary Oldman, who puts his own masterfully inward spin on what was an iconic role for Alec Guinness in the 1979 BBC miniseries; the solid supporting cast (all good, from a delightfully caddish Colin Firth to a delicately shattered Mark Strong); Maria Djurkovic, whose production design painstakingly recreates a dreary era that’s fascinating in its ugliness; and most of all, director Tomas Alfredson, who proves that LET THE RIGHT ONE IN wasn’t a fluke and that is he game for anything.

9. MEEK’S CUTOFF
Increasingly, when formulating annual best-of lists, I find myself returning to films that genuinely challenged me a little. This is Kelly Reichardt’s third great film in a row, and I wrestled with it more than anything else this year (except for maybe DRIVE). Her “western” movie is as revisionist as MCCABE & MS. MILLER (while miles apart from it) in what it asks of its audience: not only to rethink what a western is but also what a non-traditional narrative can do. It’s a film where every step taken carries more weight than the final destination, or even the idea that one exists.

10. BILL CUNNINGHAM NEW YORK
Richard Press’ unassuming yet perceptive profile of veteran New York Times fashion photographer Bill Cunningham gracefully stood out in a year full of too many overstuffed, underdeveloped documentaries. As we see this octogenarian nimbly ride around Manhattan on his modest bicycle, taking candid shots of pedestrians who interest him or covering celebrity-heavy events with a fly-on-the-wall unobtrusiveness, we learn he’s both a fantastic artist (name another person you’ve seen this devoted to a profession) and a heck of a nice guy. He’s also a little eccentric, which Press handles beautifully—particularly, the astonishing scene where he gets Cunningham to divulge his feelings on sex and religion.

11. TABLOID
Joyce McKinney’s an immensely likable nutjob, so who better than Errol Morris to tell her tale? This sharp, entertaining ”Looney Tunes Rashomon” (as dubbed by its producer) includes manacled Mormons, dueling British gossip mags, cloned canines and much, much more.

12. THE DESCENDANTS
I think I still prefer Alexander Payne as the razor-sharp satirist who made ELECTION to the tasteful dramatist/ethnographer he is here, but I can’t deny he’s made a rich, refreshingly understated work–good as he is, if George Clooney wasn’t involved, elitist critics and indie snobs would probably like it as much as A SEPARATION*.

13. THE SKIN I LIVE IN
An exceptionally twisted narrative and, perhaps, Antonio Banderas’ return brings out the best in Almodovar, who hasn’t made a film this creepy and oddly comforting in some time. If that’s not enough for lapsed Pedro acolytes, well, a man dressed in a tiger suit from head to toe also figures into the narrative.

14. HUGO
It’s possibly Scorsese’s best since GOODFELLAS, and it really shouldn’t have worked–Marty employing 3D, adapting a graphic novel for kids, pushing his film preservation agenda–so how come he seems so much more at ease here than with a potboiler like SHUTTER ISLAND or a stuffy biopic such as THE AVIATOR?

15. THE ILLUSIONIST
Sylvain Chomet follows up his delectable TRIPLETS OF BELLEVILLE at last, adapting a Jacques Tati story set mostly in Scotland and showing he can temper all of his amusing, absurd grotesques with real feeling and melancholy: the film is a requiem thankfully not weighed down by nostalgia.

16. JANE EYRE
I have a friend obsessed with the novel who claims this is one of its best adaptations yet, and it’s certainly the earthiest, most idiosyncratic adaptation of a classic novel I’ve seen since Terence Davies’ THE HOUSE OF MIRTH–perhaps also the most cinematic.

17. LITTLEROCK
Mike Ott’s impressive, underseen microindie examines how people in a small, isolated town outside L.A. talk incessantly but rarely comprehend each other (whether they speak the same language or not); it also explores with considerable depth what it means to be a foreigner in modern America.

18. BEGINNERS
With its smart, non-chronological sequencing and out-of-time soundtrack, you’d be forgiven for thinking Mike Mills’ deeply personal second film was just a tad reminiscent of ANNIE HALL, but no other contemporary effort has come so close to Woody Allen’s bittersweet, warts-and-all essay on the little things that make a life whole.

19. TAKE SHELTER
Ideally, Michael Shannon would be up there with Clooney for the Oscar–he’s tremendous as a troubled soul grappling with apocalyptic visions; director Jeff Nichols also places him in a carefully constructed environment so ordinary one could easily overlook how vividly real and lived-in it is.

20. SUBMARINE
Dismissed by too many as a Wes Anderson knockoff, Richard Ayoade’s debut film weds a distinct, somewhat warped sensibility to that hoariest of narrative perennials, the coming-of-age tale. I found a lot to love in it: finely drawn characters, a keen sense of place, Alex Turner’s shimmering score, Paddy Considine decked out in a mullet wig.

ALSO RECOMMENDED:

ANOTHER EARTH
BARNEY’S VERSION
BRIDESMAIDS
CERTIFIED COPY
A DANGEROUS METHOD
THE FUTURE
GAINSBOURG: A HEROIC LIFE
LE HAVRE
HEARTBEATS
HIGHER GROUND
KABOOM
MARTHA MARCY MAY MARLENE
MELANCHOLIA
PARIAH
POTICHE
PROJECT NIM
LE QUATTRO VOLTE
TERRI
3
THE TREE OF LIFE
TRIGGER

(*I haven’t seen A SEPARATION yet: it opens in Boston Jan. 27.)

1. Spirited Away (director: Hayao Miyazaki, Japan, 2001)
2. Waking Life (Richard Linklater, 2001)
3. The Triplets of Belleville (Sylvain Chomet, 2003)
4. The Incredibles (Brad Bird, 2004)
5. Fantastic Mr. Fox (Wes Anderson, 2009)
6. Duck Amuck (Chuck Jones, 1953)
7. Up (Pete Docter and Bob Peterson, 2009)
8. South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut (Trey Parker, 1999)
9. Persepolis (Vincent Parannoud and Marjane Satrapi, 2007)
10. Logorama (François Alaux, Hervé de Crécy and Ludovic Houplain, 2009)
11. Coraline (Henry Selick, 2009)
12. The Iron Giant (Bird, 1999)
13. The Illusionist (Chomet, 2010)
14. Wallace and Gromit in The Wrong Trousers (Nick Park, 1993)
15. Ratatouille (Bird and Jan Pinkava, 2007)
16. Paprika (Satoshi Kon, 2006)
17. Ponyo (Miyazaki, 2008)
18. Yellow Submarine (George Dunning, 1968)
19. Wall-E (Andrew Stanton, 2008)
20. Mary and Max (Adam Elliot, 2009)

Some thoughts:

Once again, my number one also topped the Chlotrudis poll (I swear I did not stuff the ballot box). For me, Spirited Away was a gateway into anime–the little of which I had seen beforehand I dismissed as either too creepy or precious for my taste. Miyazaki’s work combines Walt Disney’s wide appeal (cute characters, ravishing canvases) with a subtler, yet no less radical take on Warner Bros. anarchy (the film’s main setting is a gigantic bath house for monsters and mythical creatures!), but his films are their own thing; stumbling across them is like uncovering a third major sensibility in commercial animation. Spirited Away remains my favorite of the few Miyazaki films I’ve seen, with Ponyo (the tale of an escaped fish who likes to eat ham) a close second.

Addressing the (Dumbo) elephant in the room: although I saw all the Disney classics as a kid (back in the day before widespread home video and you had to see them in theatrical re-release, young whippersnappers!), I haven’t retained much love for them as an adult. Even the ’90s stuff carries little interest for me (apart from maybe Beauty and the Beast, whose Academy Award nomination for Best Picture was not unjustified)–Looney Tunes just falls more in line with my personality, methinks.

Outside Miyazaki, Brad Bird is my favorite major contemporary animator. With three animated features under his belt, all of them masterful and distinct in their own way, he’s as accomplished an auteur as Wes Anderson or Joel and Ethan Coen–I’d almost see his first live-action film, Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol solely for his input.

Initially, I wanted to include more shorts but didn’t because I assumed they wouldn’t have a chance in placing on the Chlotrudis list (I’m ecstatic that Duck Amuck, the essential Daffy Duck short and decades ahead of its time to boot came in at # 50). I thought about including a relative obscurity such as Norman McLaren’s Begone Dull Care or a television classic like A Charlie Brown Christmas.  I settled on making room for The Wrong Trousers (Wallace and Gromit’s finest moment) and the ballsy, clever, unforgettable Academy Award winner Logorama.

It’s probably a coincidence that 25% of the titles here from 2009, but I think we’re in the midst of a new golden age of animation, from one Pixar beauty after another (we’ll mark down the Cars films as aberrations) to the startlingly original work of Sylvain Chomet to mainstream but highly personal efforts like Fantastic Mr. Fox and Coraline to interesting, under-the-radar stuff such as Mary and Max.

Films I haven’t seen on the Chlotrudis that I really need to put in my Netflix queue: Grave of the Fireflies, Millennium Actress, Fantastic Planet, Princess Mononoke (!) (I know…) and Toy Story 3 (plus Toy Story 2, for that matter).

The trailer for Moonrise Kingdom, Wes Anderson’s new film. You know where I’ll be May 25.

Many book-to-film adaptations fail because they aren’t faithful enough, but just as often they’re too literal to succeed as cinema. In struggling to capture a book’s essence, they adhere closely to what the prose dictates but subsequently feel imprisoned to the page, not fully taking advantage of how visual and aural cues can act as enhancements. Although I haven’t read the John le Carré novel (or seen the 1979 BBC miniseries with Alec Guinness), I can assuredly say that TINKER TAILOR SOLDIER SPY is a successful adaptation primarily because it’s so deliriously cinematic. Credit director Tomas Alfredson, whose previous film, LET THE RIGHT ONE IN, also conveyed a talent for transforming the written word into visual poetry.

The first thing you notice in TINKER is not necessarily the dialogue (which is sparse and secondary throughout the opening set-piece) but the overall look. Set in the early ’70s, the bleak visual palette, full of drab grays and browns, institutional metal and concrete surfaces and very little bright light, vividly recreates an apathetic era of British Cold War culture—post-Swinging London, pre-Punk/New Wave. Simultaneously, the symphonic sound design makes it clear that you’re not simply watching a novel on-screen. Chilled silences alternate with the deafening roar of an underground train, voices instantly shift from an incomprehensible mumble to an impassioned shout and Alberto Iglesias’ somber, at times jazzy score adds texture but rarely manipulates.

Still, an adaptation does not succeed by style alone. Arguably, the real challenge Alfredson and screenwriters Bridget O’Connor and Peter Straughn faced was in rendering Le Carré’s labyrinthine narrative comprehensible as a feature-length film. With its substantial corral of characters, numerous flashbacks and typically twisty espionage-centered plot (concerning the search for a mole giving secrets away to the Soviets within “The Circus”, a fictional British Intelligence agency), it’s not easy to follow; admittedly, I clicked on the film’s Wikipedia page afterwards to sort a few things out. When viewing TINKER a second time, I easily parsed just how carefully constructed it was (for instance, you meet nearly all the characters during the opening credits, even though you don’t see a few of them again until much later), but its dense plotting and leisurely pace could act as a major deterrent for some viewers on their first go-around.

Fortunately, the key to deciphering TINKER is its central figure, George Smiley. Given his obvious acuity for completely disappearing into a role (such as Sid Vicious, Count Dracula and Sirius Black), Gary Oldman just kills it as the retired agent called back into service to find the mole. Reserved, weathered and resolutely owlish in his ginormously framed eyeglasses, he’s a reactor but also just as much an observer—traits easily taken for granted by others, but essential for espionage. By listening astutely and choosing his words (and actions) wisely, he puts all the pieces together. Likewise, if you pay close attention to everything Smiley says and does, TINKER gains considerable focus and clarity.

Additionally, a remarkable ensemble aids Oldman, from Colin Firth at his caddish best and a chameleonic-as-ever Tom Hardy to a perfectly craggy and authoritative John Hurt, plus good work from actors less familiar to American audiences such as Kathy Burke (featured in just one scene but unforgettable), Benedict Cumberbatch (boyish and loyal yet secretly tormented), and Mark Strong (testy yet utterly wounded by betrayal). In fact, everyone involved in this project seems devoted in bringing their best to it—a degree of passion and attention you wish all like-minded, considerably budgeted “prestige” pictures would take note of.

In chronological order of which I finished them:

1. David Rakoff – Half Empty
2. Zadie Smith – Changing My Mind
3. Bill Bryson – At Home
4. John Irving – Last Night In Twisted River
5. Stephen McCauley – Insignificant Others
6. Carolyn Parkhurst – The Nobodies Album
7. Dick Golembiewski – Milwaukee Television History
8. Michael Cunningham – By Nightfall
9. Gary Shteyngart – Super Sad True Love Story
10. Jessica Harper - The Crabby Cook Cookbook
11. Michael Davis – Street Gang: The Complete History of Sesame Street
12. Chuck Klosterman – Fargo Rock City*
13. Sam Staggs – All About All About Eve
14. Alice Echols – Hot Stuff: Disco and the Remaking of American Culture
15. Sloane Crosley – How Did You Get This Number?
16. Amy Sedaris – Simple Times: Crafts for Poor People
17. Steve Martin – An Object of Beauty
18. Jean Shepherd – Wanda Hickey’s Night of Golden Memories (and Other Disasters)*
19. Tina Fey – Bossypants
20. Patti Smith – Just Kids
21. Ellen Willis – Out of the Vinyl Deeps
22. Vladimir Nabokov – Lolita*
23. David Thorne – The Internet is a Playground
24. Jennifer Egan – A Visit From the Goon Squad
25. Fran Lebowitz – Metropolitan Life
26. Stanley Elkin – Searches and Seizures
27. Roberto Bolano – 2666
28. Carolyn Parkhurst – Lost and Found*
29. Tom Rachman - The Imperfectionists
30. Simon Reynolds – Retromania
31. Kurt Vonnegut – The Sirens of Titan
32. Tom Spanbauer – Now is the Hour*
33. Paul Murray – Skippy Dies
34. Chuck Eddy – Rock and Roll Always Forgets
35. Robert Hofler – The Man Who Invented Rock Hudson
36. RJ Wheaton – Portishead’s Dummy (33 1/3 series)
37. Dana Spiotta – Stone Arabia
38. Diana Rico – Kovacsland
39. Per Petterson – Out Stealing Horses
40. Tom Perrotta – The Leftovers
41. Alice Munro – The View From Castle Rock
42. John Hodgman – The Areas of My Expertise
43. Francine Prose – My New American Life
44. Brian Kellow - Pauline Kael: A Life in the Dark
(* re-read)

Some Thoughts:

I spent the whole month of July reading 2666 and nothing else. A truly tremendous book, but one to endure rather than savor. The Savage Detectives is a better Bolano to start with.

I only re-read 5 books this year. This seems like less than usual, but in fact I’ve never re-read more than 5 in one year since I began collating booklists in 2007.

The Willis and Eddy collections = essential for any aspiring music critic.  The Kael biography = the same concerning movie critics.

After years of not reading him, I’m making my way through Vonnegut’s oeuvre chronologically, one book per year; expect to see Mother Night on the 2012 list.

I’ll likely never read 7, 10, 16, 23 and 35 cover-to-cover again; not to say I didn’t like them (I’ll surely browse through the first four at some point in time) but I just have too many other books to get to and so little time.

For those curious, my five favorite reads on this list are 11 (an engrossing account of an often taken-for-granted institution), 33 (a wonderfully humane Irish prep school epic), 37 (the year’s most conceptually stunning narrative), 40 (the author’s best yet) and 44 (a biography even its prickly subject might have admired), with 24 (already much praised) a most honorable mention.

Thanks to Scot Colford for bringing this glorious supercut to my attention.  I especially like how she kind of resembles Florence Welch in the last clip.  Let the Shelley Duvall revival begin in 2012!

Here’s a sneak preview. I’m surprised at how relatively well this one came out, given that it was taken on my crap-for-picture-taking 3G iPhone. This is an early February view of Beacon Street at Coolidge Corner station on the C line, looking outbound; one of my more painterly photos, I think:

For the whole set, go HERE. Happy 2012.

The Inimitable Kate Bush

I’ve always hesitated compiling and posting a best singles list because of potential overlap with an albums list, and wouldn’t ya know, all of my top ten albums are also represented on the singles list, with one exception. Anyway, in summary…

My Top 25 Singles:

# 25 – 21
# 20 – 16
# 15 – 11
# 10 – 6
# 5 – 1

In lieu of sending out mix CDs this year, I’ve put two best-of-2011 playlists up on Spotify:

Night Time: The Best of 2011, Volume One

1. M83, “Midnight City” / 2. Tracey Thorn, “Night Time” / 3. The Kills, “Future Starts Slow” / 4. Sam Phillips, “Happy Mediums” / 5. Junior Boys, “Playtime” / 6. James Blake, “Limit to Your Love” / 7. Lykke Li, “Youth Knows No Pain” / 8. Kavinsky featuring Lovefoxxx, “Nightcall” / 9. Paul Simon, “So Beautiful or So What” / 10. Kris Delmhorst, “Tonight She Comes” / 11. K.D. Lang & The Siss Boom Bang, “The Water’s Edge” / 12. Fitz & The Tantrums, “MoneyGrabber” / 13. My Morning Jacket, “Holdin’ On to Black Metal” / 14. Lana Del Rey, “Video Games” / 15. Ivy, “Distant Lights” / 16. St. Vincent, “Strange Mercy” / 17. Lady Gaga, “Marry the Night” / 18. TV On the Radio, “Will Do” / 19. Adele, “Someone Like You” / 20. Florence + The Machine, “What The Water Gave Me”

Blue Skies Again: The Best of 2011, Volume Two

1. Wilco, “I Might” / 2. Those Darlins’, “Screws Get Loose” / 3. Atlas Sound, “Mona Lisa” / 4. Beth Ditto, “I Wrote The Book” / 5. The Pains of Being Pure At Heart, “Belong” / 6. Jens Lekman, “Waiting For Kirsten” / 7. Smith Westerns, “Weekend” / 8. Raphael Saadiq, “Heart Attack” / 9. Jessica Lea Mayfield, “Blue Skies Again” / 10. Destroyer, “Kaputt” / 11. Gillian Welch, “The Way It Goes” / 12. Emm Gryner, “Heartsleeves” / 13. Iron and Wine, “Tree By The River” / 14. Calexico, “Lost in Space” / 15. PJ Harvey, “The Words That Maketh Murder” / 16. Kate Bush, “Misty” / 17. Laura Marling, “Sophia” / 18. Tune-Yards, “Bizness” / 19. Florence + The Machine, “Shake It Out” / 20. The Radio Dept., “The New Improved Hypocrisy”

My Top Ten Albums:

1. Emm Gryner, “Northern Gospel”
2. Destroyer, “Kaputt”
3. Kate Bush, “50 Words For Snow”
4. Fitz and the Tantrums, “Pickin’ Up the Pieces”
5. Raphael Saadiq, “Stone Rollin’”
6. Sam Phillips, “Solid State: Songs From The Long Play“
7. Lykke Li, “Wounded Rhymes”
8. PJ Harvey, “Let England Shake”
9. Laura Marling, “A Creature I Don’t Know”
10. Tune-Yards, “Whokill”

Also recommended:

Calexico, “Selections From Road Atlas (1998-2011)”
Florence + The Machine, “Ceremonials”
Gillian Welch, “The Harrow and The Harvest”
Ivy, “All Hours”
Junior Boys, “It’s All True”
K.D. Lang and The Siss Boom Bang, “Sing It Loud”
The Kills, “Blood Pressures”
My Morning Jacket, “Circuital”
Paul Simon, “So Beautiful or So What”
St. Vincent, “Strange Mercy”
TV On the Radio, “Nine Types of Light”
Wilco, “The Whole Love”