2011: In Memoriam

Let me begin by saying that, as with my past four collegiate years, the city of Madison has once again thrust its obstinate hamlet directly up my rectum and prevented me from seeing a depressingly large number of 2011's films.  Unlike, well virtually any self-respecting metropolitan area, downtown Madison decided to bulldoze the only easily-accessible theater on campus in favor of a Waco-inspired mini-mall/apartment complex that eliminates the need for residents to ever go outside.  So while I appreciate the fact that I don't have to cross University to get from Quizno's to hot yoga on Tuesdays, I'm still crossing my fingers for a more reasonably-priced alternative to the $35 cab ride to the AMC Star in Fitchburg.  In fact, I'm pretty sure Fitchburg is in Moose Jaw County anyway.  Go Badgers.

Rather than participate in the futility that would be adding my two shits to the heaping pile of "Best Of" lists, think of this as more of a Surprises & Letdowns kind of thing.  I'm convinced this is much more fun than guessing which overly-sentimental release AMPAS will award Best Picture to this year.  Besides, this better lends itself to pessimism anyway.

The Letdowns:

Honorable Mention: Man on Wire (James Marsh)

Yes, I'm aware this came out three years ago, but it deserves a mention for just how devastating the viewing experience was.  One part documentary, one part art house, one part heist film, and all parts snooze fest, Man on Wire is about as pleasant to watch as My Winnipeg.

This pleasant.

What's noteworthy is that director James Marsh takes the story of a man's high-wire walk between the WTC towers--a feat as impressive as it is insane--and actually makes it boring.  What should be a nerve-wracking account of one man's fuckingly-bat-shit-crazy idea has its tension completely drained through awkward character introductions and recurring flashback segments that feel more like a string of reenactments from an episode of America's Most Wanted.

None of this is to say Philippe Petit's wire-walk (with the absence of a safety net) isn't impressive or deserving of documentation.  Au contraire.  At the very least, it deserves better than this.

3. Immortals (Tarsem)

I've read that Tarsem's 2000 thriller The Cell is little more than a series of horrifying visuals, so it makes sense that the visuals he's crafted in Immortals are the standout highlight amongst what is unquestionably a horrifying, Heraclean pile of shit.

At best, Immortals could have been an inventive imagining of Theseus and his quest to end King Hyperion's mass slaughter across all of Greece.  At its worst, it could have been a shameless 300 copycat, yet another addition to the utterly sapped genre of sword-and-sandal epics.  But Immortals is neither of those.  It attempts to tell a story, but immediately stumbles out of the gate with a hilariously overwrought John Hurt voiceover, croaking out to the audience as a warning of the impending shittiness to come.

From its threadbare plot to the obvious dialogue (much of which sounds like it was recycled straight from leftover Attack of the Clones scraps), the film raises far too many questions and then proceeds to answer none of them.  Why do we care about these characters?  Why do the Gods break their own rules?  Why didn't we sneak into Puss in Boots?

2. Paul (Greg Mottola)

Like the mildly hilarious Talladega Nights and the mildly horrible Strange Wilderness, Paul joins the ranks of films whose funniest scenes were exploited at every conceivable marketing opportunity.  I am, of course, referring to the moment where a Seth Rogen-voiced alien resurrects a dead bird only to gobble it up.  I can understand the need to give away half the film in a trailer when it's warranted, but Universal could've gotten away with simply listing the cast:

This March...

Simon Pegg

Nick Frost

Kristen Wiig

Jason Bateman

Bill Hader

Jane Lynch

...with Sigourney Weaver

...and Seth Rogen

Paul

Boom.  You don't even need coherent sentences in that.  In theory, the hilarity this cast promised should have been enough.  Unfortunately Paul plain fails to live up to its potential, comedic or otherwise.  All the more depressing is Mottola's involvement, having directed Superbad and the criminally unappreciated Adventureland.  Seriously, if you can manage to make Kristen Stewart attractive in spite of the disenchanting concavity that is her rear end, that's as good as an Oscar in my book.

While the nods to hard sci-fi are likely appreciated by fans of Asimov and "Terror Bird" alike, Paul feels more like the unrated version of E.T.  It's almost tragically appropriate then that Pegg and Frost's script, a tribute to the obsessions of geekdom and fan fiction, feels less like an original property and more like a sloppy valentine.

1. Green Lantern (Martin Campbell)

Now I've already written the equivalent of a young adult series making fun of this, but Green Lantern takes this year's crown for biggest disappointment, if not for what it is then certainly for what it foretells.

As with Mr. Mottola, Martin Campbell's resume precedes him.  Having directed two of the best Bond films in the past twenty years as well as unfastening the awesome carnal power that is Catherine Zeta-Jones, Campbell is no stranger to quality boobs action.  So with 70+ years of story material and a superhero whose power hinges on the strength of his imagination, Green Lantern should've been the ultimate creative sandbox.  Instead, its dull script merely goes through the expected action beats and is a gigantic waste of both Mark Strong and Peter Skarsgaard's talents.  Perhaps its most flagrant sin is somehow making Ryan Reynolds neither funny nor charming.

The real bitch of Green Lantern is just how F'ed DC superhero movies are likely to be.  Next summer, The Avengers and The Dark Knight Rises aren't competing for anything other than how many times they can get fanboys kicked out of theaters for public indecency.  And that's because Disney and Warner Bros. already know who's going to have the last laugh.

Marvel Studios has contracts for future films with Robert Downey, Jr. and Chrises Evans and Hemsworth, with a crap-ton of sequel potential guaranteed in each character. Actually now that I'm thinking about it, I'm pretty sure Marvel Studios has some sort of strict no-resolution policy in their endings.  Better cliffhanger that shit.

To top it off, there's no way we're not going to get like fifteen more Avengers sequels.  Add to that the very real possibility of more Hulk movies as well as Hawkeye, Black Widow, and Nick Fury spin-offs and the future looks pretty good for Marvel Studios.  Plus, if Edgar Wright's proposed Ant-Man ever gets out of production Hell, it will absolutely be the most hilarious comic book movie this side of The Spirit.

On the other side of the universe, Warner Bros. has whatever else they can squeeze out of Hal Jordan and Zack Snyder's Man of Steel in 2012, a reboot that promises more CGI than you can shake a jimmer stick at.  Sure, The Dark Knight Rises is (likely) going to make more money next year, but that just hastens the need to follow up with a worthy Batman reboot.  Good luuuuuuck.

Regardless of what 2012 has in store, you now have absolutely no reason to visit a comics shop in your lifetime.

The Surprises:

Honorable Mention: Fright Night (Craig Gillespie)

Here's the perfect way to turn off an audience with a trailer:

Those final 30 seconds would have you believe this is the result of some underground experiment where the surgical joining of Breaking Dawn and some shitty Amanda Seyfried caper went horribly wrong.  Complete BS.  Much in the same way Drag Me to Hell delivers exactly what it promises, Fright Night puts 110% into its premise while never taking itself too seriously.  After all, let's face it; "Jerry" really is the worst vampire name ever.

Colin Farrell is awesome in this and not in an ironic, scenery-chewing kind of way.  Fright Night is pure fun, and I'm usually of the belief that "fun" belongs in a movie review about as much as "zesty" belongs in those douchey Olive Garden commercials.  There's only a handful of cheap scares, and unlike what the trailer suggests, Fright Night is really more action-thriller than horror anyway.

At the very least, you can never go wrong with Hugo's cover of "99 Problems."

3. Cedar Rapids (Miguel Arteta)

Miguel Arteta's expose of Midwest America's grubby underbelly would still be a success if you only paid attention to John C. Reilly.

Fortunately, Cedar Rapids is host to a slew of performances that elevate the solid if not groundbreaking material, including Ed Helms' naive insurance salesman, Tim Lippe, and a refreshingly-not-psychotic Anne Heche.

It's strange that Cedar Rapids went unproduced for so long, because its material is hardly foreign territory.  At the same time, the film deserves praise for not simply becoming a comedic vehicle for a recognizable face.  While Helms' path to re-discovery is nothing audiences haven't seen before, the strange mixture of weirdness and whole grain goodness is what provides the spice here.

2. Rise of the Planet of the Apes (Rupert Wyatt)

Rise of the Planet of the Apes is all about bucking trends.  Of course there's the overt revolutionary themes, and James Franco's Will Rodman sets the course of the franchise in motion by defying corporate orders.  Rise also doesn't care about its more lucid self-references, and it certainly doesn't care that its most important elements aren't even human.  Not completely anyway.

Andy Serkis' Caesar doubly flips the bird to both modern humanity as well as our apparently outdated understanding of acting conventions.  20th Century Fox has hinted at an awards campaign for Serkis, and while selling the apes as real characters is where Rise needed to and absolutely does work, there are too many factors that interfere with a winning Oscar bid here; the most obvious asks where the performance ends and the CGI begins.

Still, Wyatt accomplishes so much more in Rise than Burton's 2001 failed reboot ever does, despite a (relatively) smaller budget and even smaller scope.  While the apes' rebellion is fun to watch and features several ingenious action set pieces, it's actually the quiet, reflective moments that resonate most.  A triumphant Caesar, gazing at the San Francisco skyline from the top of a Redwood, is the focus, not the larger and more devastating effects of human error.

1. Super 8 (J.J. Abrams)

J.J. Abrams loves lens flares more than you could ever learn to love anything in your life, yet he'd still find himself on the positive end of the annual cinematic report card if he released a film every year.  His secret is simple: Don't give the audience the slightest hint as to what you're working on.  In fact, I suspect Abrams' involvement as producer on 2008's Cloverfield amounted to little more than keeping the studio's collective mouth shut about exactly what the fuck was attacking NYC.

Needless to say, the Cloverfield monster exceeded expectations.

It can't be too surprising that Super 8 should find its way to the top of a list about anticipation, but Abrams avoids the Shyamalan trap of becoming a cinematic punchline by crafting a story that's more than just a monster or a twist ending.  Like the "uncanny valley" of CGI, there's a familiar line to straddle when it comes to nostalgia.  Super 8 gracefully taps into the idyllic Spielbergian realm of Abrams' childhood without losing its footing in the sentimental stuff.

I won't argue Super 8 is the best 2011 had to offer, but at the very least, the film deserves credit for what it represents.  It's a testament to the magic of cinema and the allure of the summer blockbuster.  Abrams doesn't give a damn about catering to an audience.  No, we won't be posting production diaries or Twitter updates.  You'll know nothing going into this and you'll like it.

I didn't, and I did.