Best of 2012

1-2. “Holy Motors” & Moonrise Kingdom”

Tied for first, listed in alphabetical order. Films of blatant, reckless, ecstatic beauty that make the quest for beauty their very subject and that face its moral implications; that take on the ultimate themes of love and death with piercing tenderness and anarchic humor, rapidity and precision, grandeur and intimacy, and an unerring yet personal, spontaneous yet deeply thoughtful sense of form. That take up the challenge of history (cinematic, artistic, personal—and even political, from oblique angles that offer surprising perspectives) and thereby take their place in history. Both have an astonishing reach, a vast geographical embrace. These are the instant classics, ready-made for the distant future.

3. “The Master”

No film brought its subject to life with a more surprising style or seemed to surprise its director as much with the conclusions it reached. It’s a movie of inextricable pairings: mastery of others is inseparable from mastery of self; method, from madness; creation, from power; deception, from self-delusion; performance, from being; and the biggest part of life is filling in the blanks around losses. Its subject is greatness in failure and horror in success, so how could it have made money at the box office?

4-5. “Oki’s Movie” & This Is Not a Film”

Two movies about making movies. It’s Hong Sang-soo’s year, with three films in release (the other two are below); this one stands out for its jagged emotional edges, aggressively intricate approach to its subject, and extraordinarily inspired, brashly vigorous image-making. As for Jafar Panahi’s film made—largely with his iPhone—while under house arrest in Tehran, it pushes outraged reason to a furious pitch of imagination; it turns cinematic form into a moral assertion.

The next ten, ordered arbitrarily:

“To Rome with Love”: Woody Allen, master of metaphors, comes up with one of his greatest—and gives Ellen Page a supporting turn close to that of Dianne Wiest in “Hannah and her Sisters.”

“Tabu”: Love and colonialism, or, can Europeans live well when their countries do good?

“The Color Wheel”: The director Alex Ross Perry stars alongside Carlen Altman, and, playing a sort-of-grown-up pair of siblings too weighted down for takeoff, they spar as fiercely and draw blood more surely than Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn. Aided by Sean Price Williams’s cinematography, he keeps the camera at just the distance to stay on the precarious edge between comedy and drama. An independent film of classical elements and modern methods and moods.

“The Deep Blue Sea”: Minor compared only to Terence Davies’s other films; not as extremely stylized or intimate as “Distant Voices, Still Lives” or “The Long Day Closes.” But it does something they don’t: reproduces the tones and moods of grand melodrama from the time in which it’s set, London, 1950, and features one of the great flashbacks—to wartime, with a Davies standby, the group sing, raised to a new level of historical consciousness.

“Damsels in Distress”: Whit Stillman’s return isn’t a return to form but the discovery of a new one—his aphoristic brilliance is now couched in a poetically excessive rhetoric of hyperstylized rapidity, which only an extraordinarily nimble and virtuosic cast could keep spinning with a perfect gyroscopic rectitude. The narrowed scope and stylized setting suggest vast inner dimensions of repressed pain as well as overtly prescriptive remedies.

“We Have a Pope”: The director Nanni Moretti, who co-stars, takes a back seat to Michel Piccoli’s poignant performance as a Cardinal who, with the candor of faith, begins to question his lifetime of faith. The political fury of the final scene is an honorable homage to one of the greatest scenes of all time, the ending of “The Great Dictator.”

“This Is 40”: Or, rictus: the painted-on smile of a man who loves his family as well as the wild life. It’s being called a “kind of sequel” to “Knocked Up” but better seen as a pendant to “Funny People”: imagine Adam Sandler’s character not having cheated on Leslie Mann and finding himself in Eric Bana’s position. Think of Cassavetes and call it “Husband.”

“Red Hook Summer”: As ferociously skeptical as “We Have a Pope,” with a pair of child actors as talented as those in “Moonrise Kingdom,” a text as exquisite as that of “Damsels in Distress,” and an artistic metaphor as great as in “To Rome with Love.”

“Magic Mike”: The best choreographed film of the year—and that’s apart from the strip numbers.

“Fake It So Real”: Robert Greene’s documentary about a local pro-wrestling circuit avoids the clichés of the subject and of the form and offers revelations about its subject as art and sport, about the lives of its agonists and aspirants, and about performance as such.

And a dozen more

adeline a écrit:Le best-of du New Yorker

1. "Kazoku no Kuni (Our Homeland)"

Zainichi (ethnic Korean) director Yang Yong Hi used her own family's troubled history in making this debut feature about a zainichi man (Arata Iura) visiting his family in Japan 25 years after being sent to the "paradise" of North Korea by his father. Seriously ill, he fiercely resents his situation and those who have placed him in it. Yang draws performances from her veteran cast raw in their intensity, but superbly crafted.

2. "Yume Uru Futari (Dreams for Sale)"

Miwa Nishikawa returns to her favorite theme — the varieties of human duplicity — with a story about a couple (Takako Matsu and Sadao Abe) who trick unsuspecting single women with offers of marriage to raise money for a new izakaya (pub) after their old one burns down. Despite the caper-comedy setup, the film is an unblinking, unsparing investigation of how the couple's serial deceptions eat into their relationship — and their souls.

3. "Kitsutsuki to Ame (The Woodsman and the Rain)"

Shuichi Okita's comedy about a 60-year-old lumberjack (Koji Yakusho) who comes to the rescue of a nervous tyro film director (Shun Oguri) making a zombie holocaust cheapie deftly mines comic gold from its unusual culture clash, while the lumberjack's pure-hearted fascination with filmmaking reawakens us to the magic found in even bad B-movies.

4. "Fugainai Boku wa Sora wo Mita (The Cowards Who Looked to the Sky)"

Yuki Tanada's drama about three people — a teenage boy (Kento Nagayama), his housewife lover (Tomoko Tabata) and his best friend (Masataka Kubota) — whose lives intertwine following an Internet shaming is unconventionally structured, with certain scenes retold from another character's viewpoint. Though at times lumpy, her experiments in storytelling deepen our understanding of her central trio, while strongly underscoring their common tenacity.

5. "Outrage Beyond"

This sequel to a bloated 2010 yakuza epic by comedian/actor/director "Beat" Takeshi Kitano is a definite improvement on its predecessor, with a smarter, more satisfying story arc. As a smarmy, conniving police detective (Fumiyo Kohinata) pits a giant Tokyo gang against its Kansai rival, betrayal follows betrayal and the body count climbs in classic genre style, minus the also-classic sentimentality about gangster "chivalry."

6. "Momo e no Tegami (A Letter to Momo)"

The title heroine of this Hiroyuki Okiura anime is not the usual spunky exemplar, but an ordinary girl who is scared out her wits when she discovers three yōkai (goblins) in her new house on an Inland Sea island. The ensuing comic chase is brilliantly headlong and funny, but Okiura manages the transition to more serious matters, including the title letter from the heroine's dead father, with the craft of a true storyteller.

7. "Kagi Dorobo no Mesoddo (Key of Life)"

Kenji Uchida is known for his clever scripts, and the one for his latest film is no exception. But the story of a wimpy failed actor (Masato Sakai) who finds himself switching identities with a ruthlessly efficient hit man (Teruyuki Kagawa) is more than a well-made puzzle: It unlocks the lids we so often put on human possibilities, with the keys lost deep in our own pockets.

8. "Kibo no Kuni (The Land of Hope)"

In Sion Sono's dystopian drama, a reactor accident in a near-future Japan (which has apparently learned nothing from the last one) impacts on an elderly farmer (Isao Natsuyagi) and his family, who find themselves inside an evacuation zone marked by Kafka-esque functionaries. Though stagey, the ensuing drama powerfully evokes the welter of emotions 3/11 disaster victims told Sono they were actually feeling.

9. "Kueki Ressha (The Drudgery Train)"

Based on an autobiographical novel by Kenta Nishimura, Nobuhiro Yamashita's film about a junior high grad (Mirai Moriyama) with zero social skills and prospects rejects "slacker comedy" formula, including the commandment that its subject be sympathetic. The no-hope hero, however, is capable of surprising — and ends up being likable in his sheer cussedness.

10. "Atarashi Kutsu wo Kawanakucha (I Have to Buy New Shoes)"

A brief affair blooms between a lonely middle-aged expat in Paris (Miho Nakayama) and a lost young guy (Osamu Mukai) she guides around the city in Eriko Kitagawa's romantic drama. Eschewing meet-cute cliches, Kitagawa films her bittersweet story with a graceful, tender naturalism and a fresh, flawless eye for the beauties of her setting — somehow making even the Eiffel Tower look new.

1. Kamihate Store / Kamihate Shoten

Tatsuya Yamamoto’s first feature – he’s been around for a few years as a documentarian and a producer – follows the story of an old woman who owns a rundown grocery store at the end of the bus line on a small island. Her only customers are people who come to this desolate place to commit suicide. They stop at her store to buy their last meals – home-baked bread and bottle of milk. Ex-softcore porn star, Keiko Takahashi delivers the performance of the year as the store’s owner. Yamamoto takes an otherwise very downbeat subject and builds a compelling tale, filled with sadness and redemption.


2. The Charm of Others / Miryoku no ningen

The most thrilling debut of the year was Ryutaro Ninomiya’s The Charm of Others. The rambling story follows the uneventful lives and petty power struggles of a bunch of guys working dead-end jobs at a repair shop for broken vending machines. These déclassé losers are portrayed not just with bitter satire, but also with a lot of affection and understanding. Ninomiya’s canny direction and dramatic set pieces would have made Cassavetes proud. Ninomiya himself plays one of the main roles with an oddly winning and ambiguous charm.


3. Women and Toilets / Donzumari benki

Equal parts Bunuel and post-feminist screed, Haruhi Oguri’s Women and Toilets (a bad translation of fairly untranslatable title) goes headlong down a hysterical path, following a particular dark pathology, twisting it in as many directions as she can, coming to a strangely redemptive conclusion. Rising character actress, Nahana, pulls out all the stops in a truly brave performance.



4. My House

Director Yukihiko Tsutsumi, better known for his 20th Century Boys franchise went small with My House. My House pits the story of a homeless man against that of an upper middle-class boy. When their worlds collide, there’s nothing but tragedy. He posits a perverse romanticism of a self sufficient homeless world against a sterile “normal” life, but doesn’t hold back on the cruelties of life on the street, nor the humanity-stealing world that most Japanese accept as normal.


5. Just Pretended to Hear / Kikoeteru, furi wo shita dake

Just Pretended to Hear, is yet another audacious debut. Director Kaori Imaizumi handles the story of a 13 year-old girl, sensitively played by Hana Nonaka, dealing with the death of her mother. The confusion and grief are compounded by her father completely losing it and the complication reaction she has to another classmate who reaches out to her. Imaizumi doesn’t hold back on the complexities of loss, bringing an emotional heft and honesty to a story, that in lesser hands would merely be cathartic. Just Pretended to Hear leaves the viewer as devastated as the characters.


6. Dreams for Sale / Yume Uru Futari

Miwa Nishikawa, for lack of a better comparison, is like the Lucrecia Martel of Japan. Nishikawa’s been running variations of a theme – doing good or bad things and getting contrary results. In Dreams for Sale, a couple’s lifelong dream – a restaurant of their own – goes up in flames. The husband basically becomes a pimp to raise money for a new place. How he touches lives, how he takes advantage of people, how he destroys his own life is vividly portrayed in all its comedy and tragedy.



7. A Song I Remember

I missed this at the Tokyo International Film Festival last year, so it’s on this year’s list. Director Kyoshi Sugita’s a cinematic minimalist that reminds me of a low-budget Antonioni. A Song I Remember, his feature debut has a bit of Blowup and a real feel for the desolate surrounding that make up the Japanese landscape. The story, about a relationship and the secrets and alienation that underlies it, is pitch perfect. His use of space, sound and time are remarkable, suspending the moments, creating a world imbued with mystery.



8. Flashback Memories 3D

Matsue Tetsuaki’s Flashback Memories 3D is s a very loud movie — and a total head trip. Tetsuaki’s documentary of Goma, a techno-didgeridoo player, follows one performance. In the background a a green screen collage of videos and stills illustrated his career and life. But then, the revelation that brain damage from a car accident means that Goma doesn’t remember any of his life — including, the very performance you’re watching. History, memory, and Goma’s particular way of surviving by performing and living in the present collide, making this testament to a fascinating artist a genuinely moving experience.



9. Nippon no Misemonyasan

Nippon no Misemonyasan is Yoichiro Okutani’s paean to the last freak show in Japan. He spent a couple of years embedding himself with a low-budget sideshow that works the matsuri circuit at shrines throughout Japan. The show highlights a host of low-budget wonders such as a woman who bites heads off of snakes.The film has some rough moments with its decidedly zero budget look, but the subject matter alone makes for a profound foray into an old institution that will soon disappear. Okutani is one of the few brave filmmakers in Japan that gives a shit about tradition and is doing something about it.



10. Love Thy Woman

Love Thy Woman is a short, part of a trilogy of films packaged under the aegis of Virgin. Directed by Koki Yoshida, whose Household X is one of the best films of the decade, it expands of Yoshida’s theme of women-on-the-verge. This time the story’s about a woman, a virgin in her 30s, who first, gets bullied by a high-school boy, then seduces him. Love thy Woman is a strange and compelling exploration of the profound affects of sex. It borders on a strange male fantasy, but the main performance by Sawa Masaki brings a feminine sensitivity to the role that takes the whole film to a new level. Yoshida’s attention to detail and sense of mise-en-scene are, once again, perfect.

1. Tabou – Miguel Gomes
2. The day he arrives – Hong Sang Soo
3. In another country – Hong Sang Soo
4. Moonrise Kingdom – Wes Anderson
5. Five broken cameras – Emad Burnat & Guy Davidi
6. The color wheel – Alex Ross Perry
7. River rites – Ben Russell
8. Go Go Tales – Abel Ferrara
9. Bovines – Emmanuel Gras
10. Faust – Alexander Sokourov


L'occasion aussi d'annoncer la fin de ce blog, qui tourne en rond.

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