2010: Best in Theaters

Integrity, dignity, and ingenuity might be dismissed as old-fashioned virtues, but they are still the stuff of great movies. Indeed, such characters qualities distinguish several (though not necessarily all) of the ten best films that made it by hook or by crook onto New York screens this year. With a bit of fudging, the following non-scientific list presents the best films with arguable New York theatrical distribution, in strictly alpha order.

A searing indictment of an act of legalized plunder committed by the commonwealth of Pennsylvania and the city of Philadelphia, Don Argott’s The Art of the Steal might not be the most edifying film of the year, but it does the nearly impossible, making estate law absolutely fascinating. Rigorously establishing its case step by step, it is a clinic in documentary filmmaking that Alex Gibney should be forced to watch repeatedly as part of his penitence for the wildly speculative, utterly unsubstantiated Client 9.

By contrast, Jaak Kilmi and Kiur Aarma’s droll documentary Disco and Atomic War celebrates the resourcefulness of the Estonian people, who went to great lengths circumventing the Soviet censorship of Finnish television stations and the iconic American shows it carried. Enormously entertaining yet easily the most informative film of the year on a frame-by-frame basis, Disco represents what more docs should aspire to.

Also based on stranger-than-fiction Cold War history, Christian Carion’s Farewell grippingly dramatizes the unusual friendship that developed between a high-ranking Soviet informer and the average French businessman he chooses as his handler. It also gives President Reagan his fairest shake on film since his days as a working actor.

Luca Guadagnino’s exquisitely crafted I Am Love was easily the best adultery drama of the year (and there were plenty of them). Featuring a bravura lead performance from Tilda Swinton and perfectly incorporating the music of John Adams, Love is a film of operatic passion and grandeur.

Working from an unproduced screenplay by the late great Jacques Tati, Sylvain Chomet flawlessly captures the screen mime’s gentle but sly physical in the wise and wistful The Illusionist, the best animated film of the year, by a country mile.

Though its inclusion might be a case of rewarding a film for the sake of its subjects, director Frederick Marx also earns credit for nearly dying while recording one Tibetan Buddhist monk’s quest to bring a group of hopeful children over an icy mountain pass to the nearest school in Journey from Zanskar. Though the trek is dramatic, it is the spirit and fundamental humanity of the Zanskari children that are truly memorable. Since the Rubin Museum of Art is positioning itself as a first run theater as well as the leading exhibitor of Himalayan art, Zanskar gets shoehorned into the theatrical list.

Beginning as a period drawing room comedy but subtly evolving into something larger and deeper, Tom Hooper’s The King's Speech is one of the few Oscar contenders of the year that deserves its award buzz.

Shooting a film that forthrightly addresses the Cultural Revolution on-location in China also takes a fair amount of guts. Somehow, Bruce Beresford pulled it off, bringing the inspiring story of Chinese dancer Li Cunxin’s defection to the screen, while also capturing a vivid sense of his passion and talent for ballet in Mao's Last Dancer.

Combining music with tragedy rather than heroism, Bahman Ghobadi’s No One Knows About Persian Cats is a powerful indictment of Iranian censorship. About as indie as indie gets, Ghobadi illegally filmed his drama set in the world of Tehran’s underground music scene on the city streets and in the real life basement clubs where bands risk their lives by playing their haram music every night.

Exhausting in a good way, Marco Bellocchio’s feverish drama Vincere stylishly speculates about the life and fate of Mussolini’s mistress Ida Dalser. Bold and sweeping, Vincere also unambiguously portrays Mussolini as a manipulative socialist who never really changed his ideology, just his rhetoric.

Just like last year, 2010’s ostensive Oscar contenders are a so-so lot, but there are always quality films sneaking into New York’s art-houses. These ten are highly recommended as they expand nationally or find their homes on Netflix. Here’s to happy screenings in 2011.

2010: Best of the Fests

Here in New York, the entire world comes to us, via some of the nation’s best film festivals. It isn’t always pretty though. Indeed, the world is a messy place, where respect for freedom under constitutional law is all too rare. However, such crucibles often produce significant films that deserve a theatrical life after screening on the festival circuit. The following is perhaps a provocative list of the ten best films of the 2010 fests that have yet have a regular theatrical run in New York, submitted for your debating pleasure.

Call it a fanboy pick, but Lê Thanh Son’s Clash was easily the best of Tribeca’s Cinemania (formerly Midnight Movies) selections and one of the best of the fest overall. Amped up and dripping with style, it delivers the action goods and there is no arguing with the star power of Ngô Thanh Vân (a.k.a. Veronica Ngô, a.k.a. NTV), kicking butt as the beautiful and mysterious Phoenix. Word has it this could be coming to screens next year, which seems like a no-brainer.

If there was a better film in 2010 than Tetsuya Nakashima’s jaw-dropping, hyper-realistic drama Confessions, than this will rank with 1939 as one of the all time great year’s for film. A joint selection of the Japan Cuts and New York Asian Film Festivals since submitted by Japan for best foreign language Oscar consideration, Confessions tells its story of middle school murder and revenge with devastating power. Its opening twenty minute sequence alone packs more punch than a month of boxing pictures.

A nasty little crime thriller in the best sense of the term, Wojtek Smarzowski’s cleverly constructed The Dark House also offered some pointed insights into the unsavory nature of the Martial Law-era Communist regime when it screened at the Brooklyn International Film Festival.

How such an endearing and accessible film as Aparna Sen’s The Japanese Wife by-passed theaters heading straight to domestic DVD is a real head-scratcher. A truly heartfelt tale of chaste love between a Bengali man and his Japanese pen pal “wife,” Sen’s film can make grown men bawl like babies. Indeed, there were plenty of sniffles after its screening at this year’s Mahindra Indo-American Arts Council Film Festival (MIAAC).

The irony that Pakistan’s former cottage Pashto film industry was based in a Taliban stronghold brought Australian filmmaker George Gittoes over for a look-see. The results seen in The Miscreants of Taliwood are simply jaw-dropping, including a frank examination of widespread Islamist homosexuality on the down-low, culminating with Gittoes’s own production of two zero-budget Pashto action programmers. With Gittoes literally putting his life on the line, Miscreants is one of the few documentaries that can legitimately be described as bold. It was also a fairly gutsy selection for MoMA’s Documentary Fortnight.

2010 saw many long, multi-installment films screening in art theaters. Though not quite as long as Carlos, Raúl Ruiz’s epic film adaption of Castelo Branco’s novel Mysteries of Lisbon was even more satisfying when it screened at the 48th New York Film Festival. A rich, old fashioned tale of intrigue and romance filmed with a modern sensibility, Lisbon is a beautiful and ambitious film well worth the 272 minute investment.

Sadly, with the recent conviction of Russian industrialist Mikhail Khodorkovsky on dubious charges for his real crime of not towing Putin’s line, Cathryn Collins’s Vlast (Power) is even timelier now then when it screened during MoMA’s Documentary Fortnight. A first-time documentarian, Collins is admirably even-handed, providing helpful context to understand both the Kremlin’s campaign against Khodorkovsky and the state of Russia in general.

Sometimes not being political is construed as a political act in and of itself. Such is partly the case with filmmakers Mohammad Rasoulof and Jafar Panahi who have recently been sentenced to six years in Hellish Iranian prisons on specious “propaganda” charges. Their recent collaboration, The White Meadows, directed by Rasoulof and edited by Panahi only too appropriately uses the collection of tears as its driving plot device. A visually arresting fable whose allegorical implications were wisely kept veiled (but evidently not obscure enough), Meadows was rightly hailed at Tribeca. The only good news in this story so far is that the Global Film Initiative has selected their film for the 2011 Global Lens film program, which will provide American audiences the screening opportunities denied to Iranians.

1934 was an inconvenient year for ideologues. The Stalinist purges were in full swing and even word of their anti-Semitic nature was starting to get out. The closing film of the New York Jewish Film Festival, Marleen Gorris’s Within the Whirlwind captures the tenor of those dark times quite effectively, vividly recreating the persecution of Soviet academic Evgenia Ginzburg. In addition to its brutal honesty, Whirlwind is also notable for showcasing the great German actor Ulrich Tukur in a rare English language role, bringing dignity and humanity to horrifying historical episode.

Finally, Axelle Ropert’s The Wolberg Family easily could have been a cloying connection of quirky family clichés. Instead, it is deeply humanistic portrayal of family and impending mortality, executed with unfailing grace. Deceptively simple, it was an unexpected highlight of this year’s French Rendezvous.

Thousands of films screen at New York festivals and then disappear from sight. All ten of these films deserve a better fate. The Academy’s foreign language division could ensure a future audience for Confessions should they heed these subtle recommendations.