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2003 - A Year in Review

2003 was solid and well-balanced year of cinema offering a lot of interesting films in almost every genre imagineable. While the amount of terrible films out this year was about par for the course, the award-hungry films fell to the background as the documentary genre took a giant leap forward attaining mainstream popularity through the success of several films. I'll have enough to say about the films I loved so let's just move on to the list...

Honorable Mentions (Not Top 10 material but well worth your time)

A few shorts comments:

The Fog of War (Errol Morris)

Morris gets a lot out of former Secretary of Defense, William McNamara, but you get the sense that McNamara was in control the whole time never admitting anything he didn't want to in the first place. Certainly an important film in that it brings to like many facts about Unites States Defense policies that you'd never find in the newspaper or textbook (at least one you'd find in the U.S.) but it's not quite the wake-up call I hoped it'd be. I also can't help but mention that as frank as the "face to face" interview was, the same impact could almost be reached by simply reading a transcript of the film.

House of Sand and Fog (Vadim Perelman)

An intelligent commentary on how American's perceive foreigners (Middle Easterners in this case) as well as comparing and contrasting certain aspects of the two cultures. The love story with Connelly and Eldred, who left his wife, would've been a little sappy had it not been used to contrast the loyal, yet male-dominated relationship of the Iranian couple. It held my attention until the final 15-20 minutes when all signs of restraint were gone and the film begins to crumble. Despite all of its flaws it does explore a topic not often looked at and its harsh criticisms of America's often ridiculous prejudices of Middle Eastern culture are nice to see these days.

Intolerable Cruelty (Joel Coen)

The most interesting thing about the Coen's venture into a more mainstream style of filmmaking is that they managed to keep most of their religious fans, myself included, happy while bringing in a slew of new fans who knew them only as "those guys that made that movie with Billy Bob Thornton as the barber". Still, I can't say I'm thrilled if they continue in this direction, though since they seem to come up with something new with every effort I'll be waiting in line opening week.

The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Peter Jackson)

The overbearing...er, emotional third segment of Peter Jackson's adaptation of the epic trilogy has all the melodrama of a Hollywood war picture, but fortunately twice the heart in both the characters and story. Return of the King is my least favorite of the three since we're jumping from one epic scene (be it battle or not) to the next, complete with PJ's slo-mo abuse and a bursting score constantly reminding how dramatic every little second is. It's fun and sure is pretty to look at but not captivating enough for me to overlook its flaws.

Spellbound (Jeffrey Blitz)

Having caught bits of pieces of the National Spelling Bee on ESPN over the years - to this day I still remember the girl who whisphered into her cupped hands before making her final spell - I was anticipating Spellbound since I heard it was being released. I was thrilled to find a wonderful human drama that showed the effort and sacrifice of 8 unique kids and how difficult it is for them to work so hard yet remain children. It may seem routine to simply introduce one character after another as Blitz did during the first hour but when each of them are so different and fascinating in their own way it's hardly something I will complain about. It's amazing how it makes you pick favorites, almost subconsciously rooting for other kids to lose while pulling for the ones we identify with. This film shows what it's like to be an extraordinarily talented child as well as any film in recent years and is a real treat to see.

To Be and To Have (Nicholas Philibert)
A sweet, touching documentary about the world's most patient and gentle teacher, To Be and To Have is set in a quaint French town where a small group of local children (from approximately age 6 through 13) are under his watchful eye. Full of moments of tenderness and frustration, it is fascinating to see how the children interact with one another and how Mr. Lopez reacts to them. It amounts to nothing more than a simple human drama, but what a refreshing one it is.

My Alternate Top 10

If any of the films on my "true" Top 10 had never been made I would have no problem with any of the following films filling their place.

Listed Alphabetically:

21 Grams (Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu)

Through a unique, though rather pointless and random, use of non-linear editing 21 Grams looks at the connections between three people, how they deal with tragedy, and their attempts to find redemption and happiness in their lives. It often feels like Inarritu puts his characters through such brutal emotional turmoil solely to move the audience, which it did, but the film also has so many poignant scenes that give us an intimate understanding of their struggles. Perhaps the randomness of the connections could justify the randomness of the films order, but a linear approach to the narrative could certainly hit the same themes without the slightly manipulative feeling of bringing in key scenes later in the film to "wow" the audience. Short of Mystic River (which deals with similar themes far more effectively), this contains the best ensemble of performances with Sean Penn, Naomi Watts (who, if there's any justice in this world, will one day have at least 2 or 3 golden statues on her mantle), and Benicio Del Toro going through the full range of emotions and making the onslaught of misery effectively real and identifiable despite the unrealistically high amount of it.

American Splendor (Shari Springer Berman & Robert Pulcini)

One of the most pleasant, or unpleasant depending how you look at it, surprises of the year, American Splendor looks at the comically tragic life of comic book superstar Harvey Pekar. Paul Giametti perfectly captures Pekar's unique posture and voice but more importantly his indifferent attitude and meloncholy tone which make him such a fascinating subject for a character study. Berman and Pulcini take a unique approach to the material by often breaking up the slightly-fictionalized narrative by bringing Pekar's comic book character onto the screen as well as Pekar, his wife, and others who are represented in the film. Claims that these techniques distract from the story are only valid if you believe that a straight-forward, chronological narrative is the only acceptible way to make a bio-pic. While these do take away from the audience's connection to Giametti's Pekar, they help immensely in giving a well-rounded, accurate understanding of the man himself and the comic book underworld in which he existed. Having seen Terry Zwigoff's Crumb, a documentary on the life of Robert Crumb who was very good friends with Harvey, the emotional resonance of American Splendor was high because over the course of the film my empathy towards these people, who ceased to be characters quite early on, was fully realized in part do to my previous knowledge of their sad little world.

Friday Night (Claire Denis)

Of all the film's I've seen this year, Friday Night is the one that has most improved in retrospect and despite only loving the second half of the film, those 45 minutes alone are worthy of a special mention. A mood piece with little dialogue, it relies on the dreamy cinematography and the heartfelt performances of the two leads. My main complaint of the film is that it's so set in the beginning in drawing the main character out as normal, every day people that she becomes extraordinary because of it. Once the first love scene hits everything before it becomes a moot point because the intimacy evoked in their scenes together as well as its blend of reality and wish fulfillment strip away all of the preconceptions of her neatly ordered little world and overwhelms us with a sea of passion and confusion that ensues over the course of a single night.

Gerry (Gus Van Sant)

The first of Gus Van Sant's two experimental films released in 2003, Gerry uses the long take to show cinema's ability to capture life at 24 frames per second with very little manipulation of the reality the camera catches. Claims, and there are many, that Van Sant drags out shots or could have made the same film in 45 minutes show only the inability to comprehend what he's getting at. Moving past time, place, and by the end existence Gerry is cinema at both its purest and most experimental. Affleck and Damon, perfect as the representations of the typical macho attitude of the American male, simply wander through the frame as their stubborness soon turns to frustration and desperation. The empty feel of the film reflects the emptiness of their lives. Without thought they simply drift through the open landscape (the old phrase "I think therefore I am" comes to mind) until they pass the point of no return. Their mindset sealed their fate and Van Sant captures their journey with unflinching tenacity.

Kill Bill, Volume 1 (Quentin Tarantino)

This is Tarantino in overdrive, but he feels so comfortable in this mode that the excessive violence not only doesn't distract from the story and characters, it adds to them! The non-chronological order puts consequences ahead of cause making for a unique revenge story where style is content, assuming you're willing to consider QT's dialogue part of the style. I am not particularly familiar with most of the films to which Kill Bill pays homage, but since QT so effectively throws these in the melting pot to make them solely his own, it's certainly not necessary to be before watching the film. Uma Thurman's intense, physically-demanding performance is the necessary feminine power to drive the narrative and the idiosyncracies and carefully organized details along the way only help to make this one of the most energetic and entertaining film of the year. From what this one was leading up to I have a hard time believing that Volume 2 won't be on my top 10 of 2004.

Matchstick Men (Ridley Scott)

If Lost in Translation wasn't sold out the first time I went to see it, I doubt I would've even seen Matchstick Men by now. Perhaps the temptation of seeing Nick Cage in another hyper-neurotic character would have given me the motivation but certainly not any promise of an interesting story line or Alison Lohman, whose performance was a revelation. The snappy dialogue and killer chemistry between her and Cage sets up the film nicely and the two work so naturally with each other that it becomes impossible not to care for them. As we watch the con story, which on its own is nothing spectacular, unfold Scott pulls a fast one on the audience that had been coyly set up from the get-go. It can be dismissed as "just another 'twist' film" but while I did enjoy the twist itself it was the care and detail that went into the Lohman/Cage relationship that put the film a step ahead of other films in the genre.

Master & Commander: The Far Side of the World (Peter Weir)

I must admit that I had my doubts about this film since the day it was released. Despite Peter Weir and Russell Crowe's name attached to the project it simply didn't look all that interesting. I was surprised at how well-rounded the film was looking at life both above and below deck including all of the politics that go along with keeping everyone on the boat on the same page. Weir's fluid direction captures every aspect of a life at sea, going into plenty of little details but never overdoing it so much that he loses focus of the big picture. The Moby Dick-like subplot (or side-plot) was a nice added dimension that takes us further into the mindset of Crowe's character as well as creating a necessary division between the workers and their superiors. Overall the film flows beautifully giving the most realistic and exhaustive portrayal of ship life and a number of well-rounded characters to drive the narrative along the way. It may not be everyone's cup of tea, but if you get into it the films beauty is so often exciting and moving that it's difficult not to be overwhelmed.

Raising Victor Vargas (Peter Sollett)

Unfortunately I couldn't find a spot for this on my top 10 and I'm sure the fact that I saw each of the other 19 films in my top 20 after this one didn't help things. Despite not seeing this for 7 or 8 months, many scenes remain fresh in my head and I'm still impressed with the naturalistic performances Sollett got out of those kids. It occasionally tugs at the heart strings but these moments are always effectively built up to with authentic dialogue and Sollett's unintrusive camera. The story is simple yet poignant and wonderful departure from the flurry of recent youth-based films that find the need to fill their stories with violence, sex, and drugs. It's not that those topics bother me in the least but I find that so many of those films use them as a crutch thinking that the audience won't notice that a film sucks if they throw in some nudity and a few gun shots. Raising Victor Vargas relies only on the honest portrayal of real teenagers with real problems. Few films have been able to capture the essence of growing up - the awkwardness of a first love and sexual discovery, the inevitable parent-child conflicts, and alienation all work together to paint the portrait of a boy becoming a man.

The Station Agent (Thomas McCarthy)

Who would've thought a story about a lonely dwarf could work so well? Not me, but The Station Agent is so unassuming and well crafted that any of its small flaws can be forgiven once you realize how accurately it realizes the alienation of its protagonist and his slow, bumpy path to redemption and new lifelong friendships. Peter Dinghlage gives one of the most powerful performances of the year as the stand-offish dwarf who after moving into a train depot where he thought he could escape society but is drug back in by two characters with their own issues. The story never takes any giant leaps in Fin's development and even when he does let his guard down you sense such vulnerability that even in his happiest moments he is still rather melancholy.

Ten (Abbas Kiarostami)

Abbas Kiarostami, or "the car guy" as some refer to him, certainly brings a unique perspective to cinema especially when seen by Western audiences unaccustomed to long takes, heavy dialogue, and thin plot lines that develop naturally without the aid of narrative devices so coyly tucked beneath even some of the best American films. The technique used in Ten, a dashboard camera that shows either the driver or passenger in the car, is sure to alienate a majority of viewers from the outset and rather than waiting to see how the film works, the fact that the technique feels pointless will be the foremost thought in their mind. When watching Kiarostami's films, Ten in particular, it is vital that the viewer accepts them as they are holding off judgement until the film's conclusion. The title comes from the ten different segments of the film, 10 different passengers in the same car driven by the same woman. Her son is the passenger several times as is one of her friends but there are several other strangers that find their way into her car. The dialogue is frank and honest, hitting every relevant topic to life in Iran from marriage and parenthood to prostitution and politics, and over time I began to feel like I was eavesdropping on the most intimate moments of the woman's life. That static camera forces the viewer to focus on the human element of the film without any cinematic techniques intruding in the honesty of the moment. Ten caught me completely off guard and while it's certainly not my favorite Kiarostami film, it is the one that has most helped me identify with Iranian and Middle Eastern culture.

MY TOP 10 FILMS OF 2003

Lost in Translation (Sophia Coppola)

Sophia Coppola's wonderful sophomore effort registers as a mood piece, love story, and coming of age tale in one fell swoop. Set in Tokyo, she perfectly captures the surreal, dreamlike feel of losing oneself in space and time. Beyond jet lag, Bob and Charlotte are so far out of their element that they could have completely lost themselves if not for finding each other. The dissonance in their lives seems to creep up on them making it feel like much more than a simple plot device. Despite its initial implications, the film never approaches xenophobia and in fact makes it clear that it is the characters’ separation from the familiar and comfortable that leads to their desperation. There is a good deal of care taken to show their attempts to find unity in their environment – among other things, Charlotte visits a Buddhist temple and Bob makes an appearance on a Japanese television talk show – but these attempts not only fail to help them but actually increase the gap between themselves and their loved ones. Their spouses represent their former selves – the ones they left behind at home before arriving in Tokyo and to whom they will likely return when they part. Coppola is obviously not interested in the characters per se – the little background information given about Charlotte and Bob is important only in the context of their current relationship – but rather with their mutual experience of redefining themselves through a friendship that transcends age, physical appearance, or any other factor that would seem important to every other character in the film. Apparently, Coppola has been to Tokyo many times and it is clear that she has an understanding of the inexplicable effects of long-distance travel on the human mind. The experience of losing one’s bearings over such distances is portrayed wonderfully and the characters’ inability to resituate themselves in their new environment is painfully realistic. In a place where everything feels unnatural, Bob and Charlotte could only be comfortable with one another.

The School of Rock (Richard Linklater)

When I first heard about Richard Linklater's latest film The School of Rock, my initial reaction was a mix of shock and fear. Here we have a major independent director (the best in the past 10 years in my humble opinion) who is not only working within the studio system but with a pop-culture icon. I was overjoyed when I found that Linklater was in complete control here, getting a number of memorable performances out of the kids and allowing Jack Black to take control of Dewey Finn and bring a level of reality to his rock star dreams that has not been found in any film in recent years. The film has much more going for it than Black and a few cute children’s faces. The script is witty and sharp and offers a plethora of in-jokes for classic rock fans (myself inclued - the Great Gig in the Sky reference had me grinning from ear to ear!) – the bass player who never talks, the Angus from AC-DC get-up that Black wears near the end, and many more. For a film with such an unrealistic plot and a star who appeals mostly to teenagers, it’s also surprising how genuine this film is in its emotions and humane in its comedy. Much of this comes from the script, which builds Dewey Finn as a troubled rocker with real problems. With the children, Black is more than entertaining – he brings compassion and warmth, but also a sense of desperation and self-doubt. As much as he loves these children, Dewey is still deceiving them on some level and he realizes that. Black nailed the performance making the sarcastic front and shattered dreams of his character seem so real that you can't help but empathize with him. Mix that with a sharp script and Linklater's controlled direction that keeps everything together throughout the film and you have a winner. It may take a few leaps of faith on the part of the viewer, but if you're willing to accept the film for what it is, there was nothing this amusing and entertaining released in 2003.

Capturing the Friedman's (Andrew Jarecki)

It'd be tough to even skim through a review of this film without finding at least one or two comments on Jarecki's editing techniques. Most of the films detractors lie their complaints almost solely on the basis that the films manipulative editing pushes the viewer in one direction or another, hides some facts while presenting others, and ultimately becomes something less than a completely objective look at a topic where objectivity is simply not possible. The negative, to these people, is that Jarecki took the non-fiction material and in a sense made it his own; that is to say he borrowed from narrative filmmaking in creating a documentary. The reason the documentary genre is an outcast in cinema is because most people believe that there isn't, and shouldn't be, storytelling in its films. Its purpose is too objectively present true events in chronological order and present the truth in a neatly ordered package. While this technique does work for some documentaries, Hoop Dreams for instance, I would suggest that the edit, or director's involvement in shaping the film, can lead to more interesting, powerful, and unique artistic creations. The thing I found so captivating about Capturing the Friedman's was that despite Jarecki's tendency to sympathize with Jessie and Arnold, we still come no closer to grasping a shred of truth about the situation. The obvious comparisons to Rashomon are well-founded since in Friedman's, as in Rashomon, every side of the story is subjectively true only further inforcing the fact that because "truth" is filtered through perception we the viewer are only the final filter and are left with nothing approaching objectivity. Jarecki's methods (or inserted opinions as some might call them) are not manipulative because they are inherently subjective. He is not pushing opinion as truth, but opinion as opinion and his side of things are only small piece of this still unfinished puzzle. He has, possibly unwittingly, created a film that creates far more questions than answers and causes us to not only doubt the side of the people in the film and Jarecki, but our own thoughts and opinions that we develop while watching the film.

All the Real Girls (David Gordon Green)

David Gordon Green's quiet, honest tale about the maturity necessary to fully experience true love is shot in the same style as his debut feature George Washington, but unlike the latter every emotion rings true and all of the characters feel so real that is easy to be swept away. Shot in the rural South, the environment has none of the distractions of most modern settings allowing Green to give us real people acting real. He inputs his own experiences into the film making every action seem realistic and every emotion fully earned. His patience in storytelling, especially at such a young age, is refreshing and causes the love story to unfold naturally. All the Real Girls shows the difficulty of transcending the guilt of past sins and their tendency to create a self-doubt that ironically causes people to either repeat past mistakes or destroy chances for happiness in the present. It focuses on both the power and limits of love - it can help free you from guilt and insecurities but also takes a large effort from both people to make it work. In so many movies the theme of "love conquers all" dominates the story. All the Real Girls accepts the notion that love, especially young love, can be a beautiful experience but goes one step further to explore the difficulty of keeping such an intimate connection for an extended period of time. The soothing score and peaceful surroundings make for several sublime scenes but also make the more depressing moments all the more gut-wrenching.

The Triplet's of Belleville (Sylvain Chomet)

Simply put, The Triplet's of Belleville is the wackiest and most imaginative film of the year, but behind the vibrant exterior Chomet has crafted a melancholy tale of isolation and despair that can easily be lost because of its jawdropping creativity and style. The visual style of the film has an appropriately nostalgic tone to it, beginning with a black and white, bubbly opening sequence and moving into the colorful comically animated scenes that follow. Focusing on Champion, who becomes a professional cyclist because as a child it was the only activity his mother could find that he seemed to enjoy. As an adult it becomes clear that she has driven him to succeed to the point where he is the shell of a man and just as much the lost little boy that we see in the beginning of the film. For the most part however, Triplet's is a wild ride through some of the most vivid animation I've ever seen. Chomet's discernable style complete with distortion, dream sequences, and comically built character's brings something new to every frame and while on one level it does work as pure "eye candy", it always strikes the right chord and brings out as much of these characters as possible without a line of dialogue. From the previews this may look like pure insanity but Chomet has really found order in the chaos and created a film that can be enjoyed on a purely visceral level but that also is surprisingly emotionally resonant.

The Company (Robert Altman)

What Altman gives us in The Company, his ode to the artistic process, is a detailed look at a year in the life of a ballet company. Focusing on the big picture (important performances, the business side of running the company, etc.) as well as the small picture (Neve Campbell's personal life, parental involvement with various members of the company, etc.) we see literally every angle, every piece of the puzzle that leads to the successful live performances along the way. As someone who knows almost nothing about ballet, I was amazed that there was not a single minute where my eyes were not glued to the screen. I can attribute this to two factors: Malcolm McDowell's wonderful performance and to a much greater degree Altman's masterful direction. McDowell's restrained turn as the company's director Mr. A (the comparison's to Altman mentioned by others are pretty legit) is key in holding the film together and he managed to be consistently intense yet often humorous in that "you'll never know if I'm joking or not" sort of way, which is from what I hear exactly how Altman is on the set. Onto Altman's contribution - the pacing was perfect (as much from the editing as the direction) and it's balanced focus on every aspect of the company, from the members personal life to the business side of things to injuries etc., made the 112 minutes go by in the blink of an eye. The way it fluidly moved from one character to the next or one room to another without disruption is a testament to Altman's work as well as the natural, professional performances from all of the dancers. For a film that was obviously uninterested in plot, not that Altman usually is, and that barely focuses on its character's, I was very suprised that it actually hit me on an emotional level during several scenes. It's definitely one of the finest films of the year and usually I can't stand Neve Campbell nor did I know anything about ballet, so don't let either of those factor into your decision to view the film.

Spider (David Cronenberg)

Never has a film captured the reality of an insane mind so effectively as Spider, nor has anyone played a schizophrenic as accurately as Ralph Fiennes. Cronenberg has been accused of relying on outdated Freudian theories and Fiennes of simply trodding around mumbling to himself, but both claims seem to ignore the accuracy of the film and Fiennes performance. I'm far from an expert on schizophrenia but from what I do know everything in Fiennes movement and speech is deadly accurate and his growing disconnect with reality and journey through his own mind is something that is very possible. Now whether you find this entertaining or worthwhile is a personal preference, but I must say that despite some small oversimplifications in the plot I have absolutely no complaints about the film. Miranda Richardson's magnificent turn as Spider's mother, nurse, and father's lover does lay on the Freudian symbolism quite heavily but in Spider's warped mind he can turn these symbols into a real way to ease the guilt of his past wrongs and somehow achieve peace by pushing the burden onto those who he has created. We see him reliving the past in his own mind and soon realize that although he is insane his subconscious is clearly functioning in a somewhat rational manner in its attempt to cure his wounded soul. I couldn't help empathizing with his character and with the aid of Cronenberg's brilliant direction, was able to experience the inner workings of the human mind.

Elephant (Gus Van Sant)

Gus Van Sant's second attempt at making a film with long takes and little dialogue is far more successful than his first. The long, haunting steady-cam shots give us a feel for the monotony of high school life and the feeling of emptiness that could so easily develop if one is not a part of a select few social groups. Building up to a school shooting that mirrors the events of Columbine, Elephant never tries to explain or simplify the situation. By showing us the points of view of several characters, none of who could possibly predict the outcome except the killers themselves, and certain events from different angles Van Sant shows the folly of taking part in the 'cause and effect' games that are so tempting when inexplicable events happen. Throughout the film there are hints at the killers motivations but these exist only to tempt the viewer to take part in the very act that Van Sant condemns. Beyond its ideas about our inability to accept tragedy as an unavoidable part of life, Elephant's cinematic techniques make it a film worthy of detailed study. Rather than rely on plot or narrative, Van Sant uses the camera to illustrate cinema's inability to penetrate that which we cannot comprehend in our mind. Every angle is covered and every character explored through long takes that only lead us to the inevitable tragedy we knew was coming. It is not an exercise in futility but simply admits its limitations up front and refuses to give easy answers. Where most other filmmakers would either not touch the topic of school shootings or take overdramatic approaches and try to provide easy answers, he is humble enough to admit that he knows no better than the rest of us yet intelligent enough to dramatize the misunderstandings and confusion of such a situation. Cinema may not be able to solve the worlds problems, but it can enlighten and empower us. Without even knowing it, you will likely walk out of Elephant with a greater understanding of humanity, not because you will have the answers but because you will have more questions. For everything it does not say, as much as everything it does, Elephant is the most impressive and important film of the year.

Cremaster 3 (Mathew Barney)

Mathew Barney's 3-hour centerpiece to the Cremaster Cycle (though there were 5 parts, 3 was the last film made and is longer than the other 4 parts combined) and masterpiece of modern art is far and away the most jaw-dropping cinematic experience of the year. Both times I saw this in theater I was hypnotized for the full 180 minutes and unable to leave my seat until the credits stopped rolling. It is important to note that Barney is primarily a sculptor and that he inserted many of his previous creations into the film. Not a word of dialogue is spoken, but his ability to drive the film almost entirely with heavily symbolic yet enigmatic set pieces and characters is a tribute to all visual arts. I have yet to see a film that has eclipsed Cremaster 3's ability to illustrate the struggles of the artist in and against modern society nor one that works so well on an intellectual, emotional and visual level. Though much of the film is difficult to describe in words (if ever there was a "you have to see it to believe" film, this is it) Barney at least makes it clear how powerful his own experiences as an artist are. He portrays society as a natural enemy to the artist as individual expression does not benefit the whole. Those that do not work to keep the social system in order are deemed useless and those that fight against it, most artists, must either be set straight or destroyed. The artist is in his/her natural state a martyr who in order to create must be willing to sacrifice everything except the freedom of individual expression. Clearly this is far more interesting to watch than talk about especially since any attempt to deconstruct the symbolism only takes away from what the film achieves, but if you ever get the chance to see this in theater (I wouldn't even bother with video if it is ever released in its entirety) make sure not to miss it.

Mystic River (Clint Eastwood)

It was admittedly very difficult to choose my #1 film of 2003, and I would be almost as happy with Cremaster 3, Elephant, or Spider in this spot, but Mystic River is the one film that worked for me on every level as well as the one I am most eager to add to my collection. On a first viewing it could be easy to be distracted by the murder mystery rather than focusing on the complexities of the characters and their connections to each other through past tragedy. Eastwood sets up the film with a retelling if this past event - Dave is kidnapped as a child while playing street hockey with his friends Sean and Jimmy and is repeatedly molested before escaping four days later. The tragedy forever changes all three men and Mystic River explores this connection and how it effects each of them in vastly different ways the present. Dave is a shell of a human being unable to communicate effectively with his wife or anyone else. Jimmy is a former croney gone straight for the love of his daughter, but his bull-headed attitude has earned him the respect and admiration of everyone in the neighborhood. Sean is cop whose way of dealing with the past is through a constant pursuit of truth. Through a recent tragedy they are brought back together and forced to confront their past sins before moving on in the present. Constantly drawing parallels linking the past to the present and one character to another, Mystic River weaves together a beautiful story of how the scars of tragic events create everlasting bonds but also, when reopened, can lead to further destruction. Eastwood keeps the film toned down until appropriate moments of emotional release, but as powerful as those moments are it is the patience in building the mood and bringing the story together that really make it work. Subtleties such as the effects their wives have over them and how their inability to the communicate or search for the truth creates a permanent barrier in the way of their own healing are appreciated because they are tucked beneath the surface left for the viewer to discover. I can't help walking out of the theater with my stomach in my throat each time I watch this and multiple viewings have not only helped me piece together many of the complexities but also increase the emotional resonance the film has with me.