This list is a bit more tenuous than the others as movies have that nasty tendency of delayed release in these weeks prior to the Oscars.
Could Letters from Iwo Jima be the best film of 2006? I don't know and I don't care. Million Dollar Baby and Mystic River are the benchmarks for the worst - and I mean worst - movies of the decade. Until Eastwood discovers the second sex, I am opting out.
There are others I missed (Half Nelson, Inland Empire, Last King of Scotland) that might have made the cut. I will update this list before the Oscars in the off chance that another movie jostles the hierarchy; I am sure you all will be waiting with baited breath.
10) Marie AntoinetteIt's movies like this that remind me of a) why I love cinema and b) why Roger Ebert is the best (albeit most peculiar) working film critic. To all the others who scoff at the historical flattening and dismiss the work as merely a confection (or some other condescending saccharine metaphor), Ebert retorts, "Every criticism I have read of this film would alter its fragile magic and reduce its romantic and tragic poignancy to the level of an instructional film." Amen.
9) The QueenA subtle and intimate tale on the lumbering anachronism (and attending Madonna complex) that is the English monarchy. Normally, I frown upon Oscar nominations for mimicry, but Helen Mirren's turn as Queen Elizabeth II is marvelous, as is Michael Sheen's as the once popular Tony Blair (remember those naive times?).
8) The PrestigeAs far as I am concerned Christopher Nolan can do no wrong. Meticulously constructed and flawlessly executed. And did I mention David Bowie as Nikola Tesla?
7) BoratIs there a full-on Borat backlash yet? I haven't seen the movie a second time, so I don't know if the revelations of the exploitative nature of certain situations, as well as the shear fabrications of others, sours the film, but the first viewing was as hilarious as it was horrifying.
6) United 93I waited until the end of the year to finally see United 93. I was not opposed to the subject matter, but I certainly wasn't anticipating sitting down and watching it. The film is surprising, not just in its quality, but also in its scope and tone. Only a British director could have crafted such a taught and intensely emotional portrait without conflating the personal with the political. More thought provoking is the film's ultimate ambivalence on religion.
5) Casino RoyaleThis would be the best Bond movie for the action set-pieces alone (the poker is, admittedly, a bit ludicrous), not to mention Daniel Craig who brings a much needed sense of danger and menace back to the role. Yet, it was the decision to frame the plot around a character arc as opposed to the machinations of a maniacal villain which makes the film such a winning combination.
4) Pan's LabyrinthEnchanting. Haunting. Heartbreaking. I could keep reeling off the adjectives, but I will simply say that it was one of two movies to bring me to tears this year (the other being X-men III). A fairy-tale of the first order, with a simple, but powerful moral: imagination is resistance.
3) BrickThis film is so unbelievably cool.
Brendan: "Throw one at me if you want, hash head. I've got all five senses and I slept last night, that puts me six up on the lot of you."
2) The DepartedThe
screenplay of the year. And I love that Marky Mark is being critically recognized for his role as Dignam. I am keeping my fingers crossed for a supporting Oscar nod.
1) Children of MenPhenomenal. Simply phenomenal.
The narrative economy in this film is staggering. There is no exposition, no needless plotting. A history of the future is never explicitly stated, but obliquely pieced together through the environmental clues that decorate each frame. It is a deeply imagined and fully realized dystopian world captured breathlessly by Alfonso Cuarón's (and his cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki's) unblinking camera. The harrowing action sequences, filmed with documentary-like verisimilitude in single takes, are technical marvels of choreography that never draw attention to themselves but fit seemlessly into the story.
I could talk about this film for hours, from the Pink Floyd allusions at the Battersea Power Station to Cuarón's lingering obsession with Clive Owen's feet, but I don't want to spoil a single moment for those of you who haven't seen it.