| A look back at interesting projects from 2003 |
| By Steve Lansingh |
I HATE MAKING Top 10 Lists. Having to rank art strikes me as ludicrous as ranking, say, my pants. Sure, there are some pairs I like better than others, and I end up wearing them more often, but I don't sit down and assign them some kind of rank.
Nevertheless, the end of the year is a good time to take a look back and to bring certain movies to readers' attention. So I bring you the "un-Top 10 List", which features neither top films nor ten films, is presented in random order, and doesn't even stick to movies. It's just seven projects that I feel were worthy of my attention in 2003.
Rivers and Tides -- I wrote glowingly of this documentary back in April, and my appreciation for it has only deepened as I've delved further into the art of its subject, Andy Goldsworthy. I've read nearly all of his coffee-table sized books now, and Goldsworthy's works, created in nature with natural objects, ache to be in motion. Film is the perfect medium to capture the lightning-in-a-bottle moments that are inherent in his impermanent works. The more I dwell on the film, the more it seems to me pure cinema: something that could exist only in this medium. Adaptations from other sources rarely gain power on the silver screen, but Rivers and Tides is an rare example of what movies can capture.
Lost in Translation -- Sofia Coppola's beautiful, moody film has received much praise for its depiction of two lonely souls (Bill Murray and Scarlet Johanson) connecting for a unique, brief friendship. But I haven't seen any other reviewer pick up on my favorite aspect of the film, which is the important role laughter plays in their connection. Both characters watch their jokes sink like lead balloons whenever they're apart; it highlights their disconnectedness. But they make each other laugh. Laughter gives them instant rapport and connection, and offers levity and grounding when they'd been feeling aimless and depressed. As I think back over my most important friendships, including my marriage, I find that laughter has been an important part of our bond: It defuses tension, staves off boredom, deepens understanding, and never leaves us without anything to say. Having a laugh together is good for the soul.
Finding Nemo -- I can't say enough great things about this movie, which is beautiful, funny, moving, and eminently quotable to boot. It teaches a lesson that I need to learn over and over and over -- just a few weeks ago I organized an evening out with friends and spent more time worrying over what could go wrong and making sure everyone was happy than I did being in the moment. I also find it heartening, after watching all the DVD extras, to discover how much of a collaborative work this movie really was. In an industry where many of my favorite films are the brainchildren of writer-directors who have lots of control over the filming process, it's heartening to know that collaboration really can work.
Luther -- Sure, this biography of Martin Luther takes liberty with details, but I thought that was incredibly interesting. Just as Brother Sun, Sister Moon says as much about the '70s as about Saint Francis, Luther sheds lights on today's spiritual concerns. The one that interested me most was the issue of translation and struggling with language. In the movie, Luther speaks of translating "following the will of God" as "following the passion of God," which to me seems a more exciting prospect. I'm reminded of how Thomas Cahill, in "Desire of the Everlasting Hills", interprets the Greek word metanoia (literally "change your mind," and usually interpreted as "repent") as "open your heart." Within my lifetime, new translations like the NIV and NLT have challenged the KJV for acceptence within the American church, and I wonder if -- or maybe hope that -- having the Bible in our 'own language' at last will revitalize us.
A Mighty Wind -- I've always found Christopher Guest's "mockumentaries" funny, but I've disliked that so many gags depend on feeling somewhat superior to the characters. A Mighty Wind seemed to have a different tone, one just as funny but full of warm, big-hearted, admirable characters. Mitch and Mickey (played by Eugene Levy and Catherine O'Hara) are probably the centerpiece of this warmth, but it extends even to the Bob Balaban character, who wants to pay tribute to his father despite all the obstacles, and the Michael Hitchcock character, who has the courage to sing "Ave Maria" in the big concert hall despite having no musical ability. The movie speaks of hope, reunification, love, and dreams, while at the same time being devastatingly funny -- a difficult balancing act to achieve.
The Office -- I've never worked in an office for more an a week straight, since I hold a kind of freelance position, but even I understand the dull and helpless existence of corporate structure that this BBC series mocks mercilessly. Corporations are simply the kind of structure that rises when hordes of people need to be managed, and after spending some time in a large church, I've found that our spirituality does not exempt us from these inefficient and dehumanizing practices. Religion as a whole isn't much more than a social container for something much greater: the adventure of a relationship with God. The Office, with its self-centered characters whose scope of life rarely peeks outside the cubicle walls, is a reminder that the church was made to share God's love with people, not create a culture of reclusive navel-gazers.
The Cooler -- I'd been dying to see this movie ever since I saw the preview, and William H. Macy delivered this line to a battered Maria Bello: "You look in the mirror and don't like what you see? Look in my eyes -- I'm the only mirror you're ever gonna need." That's one of the best lines about love I've ever heard; it reminded me of my own courtship, when both my wife and I discovered hidden beauties about ourselves when seeing through the other's eyes.
Did the movie live up to the preview? Yes and no. While the rest of the script wasn't as eloquent, I found myself moved in a different way by a scene where Macy's character risks his life by standing up to a violent casino owner who has determined to split the two lovers. It reminded me -- not just intellectually, but deep in my bones -- how precious love is. When Macy takes his stand, I was confronted by the fact that love is something more fierce and more consuming than I let on. Love is not simply dreamy and comfortable; it is truly dangerous.
|
|
Fill in the fields below to create a ready-made email (in Outlook, Eudora, Netscape Mail, Safari, etc.) that will give your friend a link to this article!
|