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7/29/2015

Top 10 Films: 2011

2011 saw the production of many bold and personal projects. A lot of directors, writers, and producers wanted to try a little bit of something new, mixed in with a little bit of something old. The result was not always phenomenal, but it was always interesting. Some, like Drive, The Tree of Life and We Need to Talk About Kevin, showed quiet and entrancing stories shown under layers of mystifying direction. Others, like Midnight in Paris and X-Men: First Class told their stories through the lens of nostalgia for a past era, be it the 60's era of Cold-War action films, or the golden years of the literary and artistic giants of the Parisian 20's. Everyone had a different and individual perspective to offer on a time and a place that we can all look back on. But a particular topic of fascination was the history of film: interesting coincidence that of this years' three top picks (all rated 5 stars) each film tells a different story about filmmaking, each film tells of a different chapter in film history, and each film does it in a different way. I'm droning on again. Let me suffice to not say anything more and leave you to find out for yourselves which films these are. I can only hope that you enjoyed them as much as I did. 

10. Thor


Director: Kenneth Branagh
Starring: Chris Hemsworth, Tom Hiddleston, Natalie Portman, Stellan Skarsgard
Release Date: May 6, 2011
Running Time: 114 minutes
Rating: 4/5

Marvel came out with a long string of movies in the 2000's and 2010's leading up to the grandiose Avengers. Although, come to think of it the 2008 Hulk doesn't really count because it used a different actor, so it's really just Iron Man, Iron Man 2, Captain America: The First Avenger, and Thor. Thor is probably the most disliked of all of the above- and surprisingly, I actually think it's the best. And I've often weaseled my way out of conversations about this film by simply saying "I have my reasons", but now I've really worked myself into a spot where I can't weasel anymore. And of course I'm not saying Thor is a masterpiece or anything- of course not. Like most Marvel movies, despite its popularity, it's just a good movie at best, a nice popcorn adventure that leaves no lasting impressions. Assume you could only see one of Marvel's pre-Avengers films before seeing the Avengers. While Avengers certainly works well enough to explain things on its own, it sure would be a lot harder to follow the plot if you hadn't seen Thor, regardless of the important plot details Captain America provides. I mean, Thor not only has the same villain as The Avengers, but it also introduces Dr. Selvig and the entire concept/theory of the different worlds of the Marvel Universe. But a movie can't be judged for its connections to other movies, can it? A lot of the flak that's been directed towards Thor mainly had to do with the fact that it never really went anywhere- the climax of the film happens in some isolated New Mexico town. And yet, I think that's kind of what's so great about it. It stands alone. There's no big city, no skyscrapers tumbling, no cataclysmic explosions, no crowds of screaming people. Thor is the first skirmish in a conflict between worlds that will soon erupt into a full-scale battle, but watching the skirmish just by itself is still interesting. It's a more subdued Marvel film, but it seasoned director Kenneth Branagh didn't make it that way simply by accident- keeping the story on a small scale gives the film some unlikely advantages; it's not as tiresome as those superhero movies that each try to be bigger than the last. I'm sure that there are superhero cliches here, but it will be a lot harder to find them. I mean, most superhero films start with an everyday human who gains superpowers through some dramatic event- Thor is the exact opposite: he's a god who's been stripped of his powers and is on a quest to gain them back. Structurally, it's really more of a science-fiction film than an action film, cutting back and forth between our world and the beautiful otherworldly realm of Asgard. It connects superhero mythos to Norwegian mythos, whilst providing deeper explanation and context for both. It's also got a good balance of comedy thrown into the mix, making it one of the funniest Marvel Avengers films I've seen whilst keeping its tone more realistic than comic-bookish through using believable and human characters, even when its characters happen to be demigods from another dimension. Thor maintains a coherent mood that is pleasantly both rowdy and easygoing, mixing good action with hilarious situation comedy to create an adventure that doesn't let the restraints on the scale of the story get in the way of the value of the entertainment.



Director: Woody Allen
Starring: Owen Wilson, Rachel McAdams, Marion Cotillard, Kathy Bates, Lea Seydoux
Release Date: May 20, 2011
Running Time: 94 minutes
Rating: 4/5

As someone who's more accustomed to the wild and zany Woody Allen of the 1970's, seeing his more comedically subdued work of more recent years always comes as a shock to me. His films like Midnight in Paris show maturity and craft, but the people that interpret them as comedies have clearly given up on humor. And though Allen's hand is clearly one of an experienced filmmaker, his inexperience with digital cameras shows: what we get is a film that looks a bit too crisp and too clear; it looks so far removed from the cinematic that it shatters the illusion that all films try to create. Allen is visible in some lines of dialogue, but other than that, he's entirely absent; even the mood of the film is drenched in whimsy and nostalgia, as opposed to his typical cynicism- this movie actually has a point that the whole story revolves around. Midnight in Paris is the Woody Allen film for people who don't like Woody Allen. But then again, Midnight in Paris could appeal to just about anyone. It's a story about a writer who visits Paris with his fiancee, and entranced by the city, he wishes that he could experience the days of his idols- Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Gertrud Stein- and suddenly, his wish seems to come true. Wandering the streets at midnight, he is offered a ride in a strange-looking old car and before he knows it, he's sharing a drink with Hemingway himself, as the magic of Paris has transported him back through time for just a few hours so he can live the dream that every young artist has dreamed. This plot device is deployed so well that watching the film, you can very well end it believing that this actually happened, that if you were to go to Paris and find that street corner, that you too could meet Dali and T. S. Eliot- but because this film exists, there's no need to do that: we are along for the ride, perfectly immersed in Owen Wilson's glittering journey into the past. And the story doesn't miss any opportunities, either. It takes full advantage of its fanciful premise, not giving away too much, but surprising us with little treats all along the way. It's true, the "daytime" portions of the film (in which Wilson's character lives with his wife in modern-day Paris) are more than a bit droll, but this is done on purpose to contrast with his nighttime excursions. This film demonstrates that even if Allen hasn't gained anything in talent through his descent into old age, he has certainly matured in spirit. Midnight in Paris is a tale from a soul that is wise with experience while young at heart. It forces us to look with fondness into inaccessible ages past, but it also encourages us to seize at the chances that modern life offers us, and that is a beautiful thing indeed.



Director: Matthew Vaughn
Starring: James McAvoy, Michael Fassbinder, Jennifer Lawrence, Kevin Bacon
Release Date: June 3, 2011
Running Time: 132 minutes
Rating: 4.5/5

The best "superhero movies" are the ones that really dive into the philosophy of heroism- providing a thought-provoking dimension to an already well-beloved story. X-Men: First Class resembles its comic book origins visually, keeping itself contained stylistically to a classy 1960's of spy thrillers with sci-fi tinges. But it succeeds in ways that other entries in the genre don't: it takes the central idea that makes its superheroes unique and explores that idea from every angle, presenting realistic issues and offering up multiple responses to those issues in relation to a moral-ethical spectrum. If we take a look at what makes other superhero films good, it's often the reasons that the film gives its heroes for being heroes: Batman is led to vigilantism out of a perceived personal need for redemption, Spiderman fights crime because of a moral obligation, most others face scores of dangerous evils because no one else will. Though these heroes often rise to mythical positions in our culture, it's the man and not the myth that makes them appealing: these are real people with real problems, more or less. The X-Men have a different problem that defines them: a problem of identity. They are searching for a role to play in a grand game of natural selection, a game that will undoubtedly shape the future of the human race. In fact, one might not even interpret them as heroes: rather, they are "freaks" of evolution who are trying to find a place in society, mutants who have special powers/skills by birth, and whether they view their mutation as a defect or as a gift is their decision. And as they become more familiar with the enormous significance of their abilities, they must also decide whether they will use their abilities for good or for evil. There are many players in this story, and many chapters. X-Men: First Class is the first chapter, explaining the world's response when it first discovered the mutants, and how a task force was created to enable the gifted to research their powers and more fully realize their true worth. A narrative like this would be impossible to translate to the silver screen if not for a story structure that manages to remain focused while encompassing every necessary aspect of the events, anchoring the story of many characters by centering everything on the development of a few charismatic and memorable figures: namely Charles, Raven, and Erik. Charles is determined to help and save "his people", aiming for coexistence with humans; Erik is on a mission of revenge against the man who killed his mother. Raven is the young self-conscious girl brought up as Charles' friend and protege. She is naturally blue-skinned, but bears the ability to shape-shift, so she usually hides behind a human appearance. Erik loves her for who she is, but Charles loves her for who she could be. Pardon my description though; I make it sound as if it's all character study- for goodness' sakes, this is an action movie and a political thriller, and it bears all of the sleek finesse that a sci-fi fantasy Cold-War thriller deserves. It's exciting and racy, creative and brilliant. X-Men has something for the hungry eyes, the fast heartbeat, and the intellectual mind.



Director: Nicolas Winding Refn
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Carey Mulligan, Albert Brooks, Oscar Isaac, Ron Perlman
Release Date: September 16, 2011
Running Time: 100 minutes
Rating: 4.5/5

I can't ignore that Drive has some obvious flaws. Its clever mix of art house drama and action thriller is beautiful, but there are long spaces of time where no one is really talking, and people are just staring at each other while ambient music plays, and though it's pretty, it comes off as a bit dull or out-of-place when the last thing we saw was an intense car chase. But maybe that's just part of the genius of it. Because Drive is a genius movie. Don't believe me? Just look at the first ten minutes. We see a man talking on the phone. "You will not be able to reach me again at this number," he says. He talks about how he knows the city up and down, every side street, just like the back of his hand. He's a getaway car driver. As he watches two criminals enter a building, he sets a timer on his watch, fastening it carefully to the steering wheel. It's been explained to us that his "window" is five minutes- anything after that, and his clients are on their own. As soon as his passengers hop in with the loot, he steps on the pedal and tunes into the police scanner. What happens after this is one of the most well-directed chase scenes I've ever seen. The movie has told us artfully and suspense-fully (and mostly without words) everything we need to know thus far: this is a man who can do anything behind the wheel. Cue the opening credits, add in a breathtaking 80's-inspired synth-driven soundtrack, and sit back. We know we're in for a wild ride. What's curious about Ryan Gosling in this film, in this role, is that he hardly gets any dialogue. And when he does talk, it's nothing impressive. This is a character whose beauty is in his simplicity: he has a simple mindset and simple goals. Drive borrows heavily from film-noir, using all the classic ingredients: a morally ambiguous anti-hero, a mysterious girl with marriage troubles, but most of all, an intricate and vindictive criminal underworld. The difference is that Drive uses its bright colors and electronic soundtrack to create a distinct neo-noir atmosphere that contains a vibrancy that the masters of classic noir could have only dreamed of. Though our unnamed driver may lead a double life on the wrong side of the law, he does so more or less ambivalently. His heart is in the right place: when he learns the cute girl next door's husband is returning from prison, he respects the marriage out of a desire for the security of the wife and child. When things turn nasty and the girl he loves is threatened by a large crime syndicate, he takes on a murderous mission of vengeance that leads him all the way to the highest ranking crime bosses. And I suppose if I only had one problem with this movie, it would be in the second act. The film is intense, but I just didn't feel like it was very climactic- like, the climax happens before the real climax, and the finale is just a bit too sleepy to bring home all the emotional power that was building up. But maybe that's just me. Regardless, the moments of high adrenaline in Drive are unforgettable- not just the car chases, but the brutal treachery and gritty violence of some of its other key scenes as well. The quiet mood of the film allows the carnage to exhibit a mystifying and almost meditative quality: while Tarantino's violence is characterized by lack of restraint, Nicolas Winding Refn's equally shocking images have a stronger effect because of their perfect timing and narrative placement. The result is that even the more subdued scenes where not much is going on are still just as memorable as the other scenes because of their visual beauty. Drive remains a cinematic landmark; the perfect action film for art house lovers, and the perfect art house film for action lovers.



Director: Terrence Malick
Starring: Tye Sheridan, Brad Pitt, Jessica Chastain, Sean Penn
Release Date: May 27, 2011
Running Time: 139 minutes
Rating: 4.5/5

It's easy for someone to mistake The Tree of Life for the best movie ever made, that is, if they'd seen just a few clips of it here and there. Seeing the actual movie from start to end is a lot less impressive. Seriously, with this film I felt like I was seeing all the right images in the exact wrong order. "This isn't Terrence Malick's The Tree of Life... is it?" I found myself saying. "I mean... it can't be. This is supposed to be one of the best movies ever, and... this is it?" My impression was that it was supposed to be about growing up, but in the first fifteen minutes, all of the main characters are grown up already and one of them's dead, because of... a plane crash? I think? So the movie cuts between the present (where Jessica Chastain mourns over the death of a character we haven't even met yet... I'm still not even sure who died, or what the names of any of these kids are), the past (where we see a young Tye Sheridan growing up in Texas), and the future (where we see a lonely Sean Penn walk through a bunch of offices and stare sadly out of glass elevators). A large part of the story is focused on the main character's childhood, so that's mainly easy to grasp, but then there's this prayer that interrupts things halfway through the movie and we see a bunch of pretty galaxies that are shown to us for... no reason at all. And then after we continue to watch this collection of childhood memories, it's interrupted by the ending of the movie where... everyone's in heaven? And the movie kind of ends there, in the absence of any firm and solid explanation or resolution. Now I'm not saying that every movie should state clearly what's going on. I'm a firm believer in movies that invite interpretation and discussion- but The Tree of Life doesn't really seem to invite interpretation at all. I'm willing to acknowledge that there may have been a lot of symbolism that just got past me, but for the most part, the tone was more straightforward than mysterious. I personally see The Tree of Life as just a collage of beautiful imagery and classical music: visual poetry, basically. So clearly, I don't think it's as great as a lot of people seemed to think, but it's not that I don't understand or celebrate what it was trying to do. The Tree of Life is what it says it is. Humans are surrounded by the circumstantial- definite events that happen in specific places at specific times, connecting objects with memories and developing experiences that will ultimately shape identities. Nature itself is beyond that, because nature is infinite. Humans communicate through words and ideas. Nature communicates in the absence of words, through the sounds of rivers and humming crickets, through God's painter's eye which brushes colors across the sky among lush forests and shimmering star clusters. The Tree of Life is a humble and mostly successful attempt to portray that cosmic dance between the human world and the natural world. The human characters in this movie speak to one another, and the few words they do speak leave a huge impact on us. But most of the time, we find this movie communicating the characters' thoughts to us through the language of nature- through objects, through memories, and through simple silence. No movie can be a perfect ode to everything good in the whole universe, and I think that's what the hype around The Tree of Life has built it up to be, and that's not what it is. The Tree of Life really is just an experiment in beauty, an exercise in a vivid aesthetic that winds up as being worthwhile, even if it at times suffers from being dull and confusing for most audiences.



Director: David Fincher
Starring: Daniel Craig, Rooney Mara, Christopher Plummer, Stellan Skarsgard
Release Date: December 20, 2011
Running Time: 158 minutes
Rating: 4.5/5

I don't believe I'll ever grow tired of making comparisons between Hitchcock and Fincher, and though it's a bad habit, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo shows us yet another key similarity between the two. Most of Hitchcock's best-remembered films were adapted from novels: Psycho, The Birds, Vertigo, etc. Fincher, likewise, comes up with very little story material of his own, but always manages to pull off an adaptation with ease. The films of both directors are so beloved because they both know exactly which books to adapt. Since Stieg Larsson's book was pretty much the most talked-about books of the decade, the decision an American film version was timely and tactful. Perhaps it's one of the least talked-about Fincher films because everyone was so in love with the Swedish version, (which, I'll have to admit, I didn't see- I knew nothing about the story, so naturally it had to first be told to me by today's master of suspense). And I have to say, it delivers. It might not be as memorable as some of the stronger entries in his portfolio, but it certainly deserves a following greater than the one it's gathered so far. What stands out primarily about the film is the attention to detail in the filming style. Even though most of the actors are American, the film feels European enough to earn the description "Scandinavian noir": every frame is full of muted colors and cold imagery, we constantly shift back and forth between the old Sweden of fireplaces, boathouses, and libraries and the new Sweden of polished kitchens, large glass windows, and thermostats. Every small development in the story leads us towards the same conclusion: that when you search behind both exteriors, you can find the same old soul. What grabs our attention next are the characters: primarily, the gothic/punk-ish hacker Lisbeth Salander, who now ascends to a very high place on my unofficial list of charismatic detectives (if she can be called a detective). Lisbeth is such an intelligent and striking character that she even manages to steal the show away from the story's real hero, journalist Mikael Blomkvist. Even the entire franchise is named after her, when the whole story is actually more about the case she and Mikael are investigating. A large part of this is probably due to the fact that the difference between Lisbeth Salander and other detectives is her willingness to break the rules- she operates routers and spyware so easily she might as well be using magic, taking full advantage of our digital age's lack of privacy. To have anyone but Rooney Mara bring us Fincher's translation of the Salander character would be unpardonable, and to overlook the genius casting Daniel Craig as the reserved Blomkvist would be a horrid offense as well. The pair's seemingly endless search for answers concerns a young girl Harriet, who was murdered at a family gathering on an isolated island over forty years ago. This mystery unfolds at a crawling pace, sparing us no details and keeping us confused and guessing until the shattering and gruesome reveal. Possibly Fincher's darkest film yet, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is clearly not for the faint of heart- but for fans of suspenseful nail-biters and unforgivingly bleak crime dramas, this is a picture you can't miss. 



Director: Lynne Ramsay
Starring: Tilda Swinton, Ezra Miller, John C. Reilly
Release Date: October 21, 2011
Running Time: 112 minutes
Rating: 4.5/5

I've been told that at the core We Need to Talk About Kevin there lies a simple question: is evil born into the world or is it bred into it? I think most can agree that the film leaves the answer open for the audience to determine- all the evidence is fictional, but it gives us some great food for thought to chew on nonetheless. We Need to Talk About Kevin begins by telling us both everything and nothing. Eva Khatchadourian is living alone in a messy and rotting low-rent house; she's trying to wash off a full can's worth of red paint that someone splattered on her front porch for reasons that haven't been explained yet. Later, she briefly smiles after landing a job at a local travel agency when suddenly an acquaintance walks up to her, asks her if she's having a good day, and punches her in the face. It's not long before we begin to see the context. Like many teens in the community, Eva's son Kevin was recently involved in a traumatic school shooting; unlike the other teens in the community, he happened to be the perpetrator. The film tells two timelines at once- half of the story is the mother's life after the event, the other half is comprised of her memories of Kevin's childhood development, ranging from birth right up until the days before the incident. If the film has any flaw, it's in the characterization of Kevin as a one-sidedly evil human being- it's nearly impossible to watch this kid on the screen and imagine a real kid behaving like this. But it's fun to watch, anyways. And to be frank, Kevin isn't as one-sidedly evil as he may seem- when other aspects to his personality break through, it surprises and confuses, but rather than completely destroying the personality that's been constructed for him, it only makes his character more of a mystery for us to figure out. When we see Eva visit Kevin in prison, he behaves in a decidedly different way than he does throughout the rest of the film: which brings us to realize, everything that happened before the "incident" is shown to us via the lens of Eva's twisted memories. Kevin is evil in part because Eva projects evil onto Kevin- she hates Kevin because she sees him as a copy of herself, as an exaggeration of everything that she hates within herself. If this is true, then really the mother might just as evil as her son; we just don't see it, because she's the unreliable narrator who's telling us everything. Adding to the intriguing situation are the other family members: Frank, the naive father who strives to maintain for himself the illusion of a happy family with blind optimism, and Celia, the daughter that Eva always wanted to have and the object of Kevin's jealousy. We Need to Talk About Kevin could have been tackled by any director, by means of any directional style, in which case it would have been only mediocre. But we instead are blessed with the talent of Lynne Ramsay, who understands the full potential of the novel's themes and presents them to us through symbolism that is subtle and obvious all at once. We understand the repetitive imagery of waving curtains, submersion in water, and archery. But what's the meaning of the tomatoes? Of the eyepatch? There's a lot to go on here. Full of paranoia, psychology, rich drama, and profound observations, Tilda Swinton's jaw-dropping performance shows us we don't need to talk about Kevin- we need to talk about this movie.



Director: Michael Hazanavicius
Starring: Jean Dujardin, Bérénice Bejo
Release Date: October 12, 2011
Running Time: 100 minutes
Rating: 5/5

Many have said The Artist was a pretentious gimmick just trying to glean awards for its so-called ingenuity. "Oh, a silent film for the modern era. That's just brilliant." To criticize the film's silence as meaningless and unnecessary is to miss the entire point of the movie- The Artist is a silent film for a reason. This is a silent movie about silent movies; its hero is caught between the world of the silent film and the world of the talking picture. The pantomime transports us to this world as our main character knows it, and once we've gotten comfortable within this alluring environment, we're suddenly threatened with change. Add color and sound and you would have Singin' in the Rain: which you don't want to do because Singin' in the Rain has already been made. In fact, it's actually a good idea to look at these two side by side: Singin' in the Rain is told from the perspective of those who were able to adjust to progress, The Artist is a nostalgic (and at times melancholy) venture from the perspective of those stuck on the wrong side of the progress, as we see a man left behind by wave that's sweeping up the rising star he's fallen for. This film needed to happen. Sure, it's gimmicky, but every little gimmick used in the film is just another trick of the trade that shows us that the film's creators did their homework. There are so many moments that say so much more in pantomime than they could with words, and the images and the music draw us in like some sort of dreamy magic spell. The story is drowned in sentimentality, but it remains powerful, in a heart-piercing sort of way. It's romantic, tearjerking, and in a lot of places, actually quite funny. You can't really say much more about The Artist but that it's a perfect film regardless of its selling-point, because it's so much more than simply a "silent film from the 21st century". It's a story, for goodness' sake, and what's more than that, it's a story about life and love, and our stubbornness to let ourselves move with the times. The Artist isn't lost in another era. Rather, it reconciles one era of filmmaking with another, and it does so in the most beautiful and moving way possible. And that's something that deserves to be seen. 



Director: Martin Scorsese
Starring: Asa Butterfield, Chloe Grace Moretz, Ben Kingsley, Sacha Baron Cohen
Release Date: November 23, 2011
Running Time: 126 minutes
Rating: 5/5

Hugo can neither be seen as entirely a children's film nor as entirely a Martin Scorsese film; strangely enough, it's a Martin Scorsese film for children. Crazy as that sounds, it makes sense when seen in the context of Scorsese's other work: in short, his wife was upset that out of all of the films that he had made, his twelve-year old daughter wasn't old enough to see any of them. So a good way to present Hugo would be to call it a project done out of the love of an old man, who must tell his story from the eyes of his inner child, to bless an audience of children. But of course, the story didn't come from nowhere. Hugo is based on an award-winning book "The Invention of Hugo Cabret" by Brian Selznick, which has so many illustrations it might as well be a graphic novel. I remember reading the book as a child; it instantly became one of my five favorites, and probably still is. When I heard news of a movie, I was delighted, but the cheerful and carefree appearance that the trailers gave the film highly disillusioned me- thankfully, my low expectations only allowed the final spectacle of the film to surprise me all the more harder. Getting to the actual plot of the film, Hugo is mostly about the eponymous orphan boy living alone behind the walls of a train station, caring for the clocks and trying to assemble together an antique metal man from stolen machine parts. But it's also about a little girl looking for adventure, an old toy-shop owner with a mysterious past, and a general obsession with the magical beginnings of the world of cinema. The mechanical man was given to Hugo Cabret by his father, and it's the only thing he has left to remember him by; in trying to repair the automaton, Hugo is looking for a secret buried in the past. Death, loss, deception and betrayal are a huge subject of discussion in the book, but these things are what carried all of the emotional weight. In bringing this story to film, Scorsese had to cope with the dangerous and difficult task of keeping the mood at a balance between all of the heartbreaking moments in Hugo's life and all of the bright ones. And he does so excellently. Making the tale much more visually focused adds beauty and whimsy to the center of the film's emotion- yes, the pain of the past is still there, but the film is also full of excitement and hope for the future. Asa Butterfield's acting presents Hugo as one who is brought upon hard circumstances, but just like the ever-shining Mark Lester of Carol Reed's Oliver! he manages to weather it through with a child-like fascination for the world that lies around him, while Chloe Grace Moretz accompanies him as Isabelle, the young girl who optimistically lights his path for possibilities of a new life as he gets closer and closer to putting together the pieces of a grand and charming puzzle that fate has set up around him. In short: Hugo is perfection, no matter which way you put it. Secrets, magic, and adventure: these are words that are used by so many characters in the film at so many different times, but they describe the atmosphere of this film so well. It's a cozy and heartwarming journey into a time and place so far removed our present world, and yet so close to the longings that we all feel for excitement, redemption, and love. 



Director: J. J. Abrams
Starring: Joel Courtney, Elle Fanning, Kyle Chandler, Riley Griffiths
Release Date: June 10, 2011
Running Time: 112 minutes
Rating: 5/5

In Super 8, J. J. Abrams looks back at the films that filled his childhood with wonder and inspiration, and tries essentially to recreate them in his own fashion. Super 8 has many staples of a Spielberg-era family movie: a group of misfit kids, a mystery with sci-fi/fantasy elements, scenes that push you over the edge of your seat in suspense and terror, and loads of action and adventure all confined within the limits of a small town in Ohio. The surprising thing in trying to emulate his hero, J.J. Abrams has actually surpassed him. In fact, Super 8 is what E.T. would look like if E.T. was actually a good movie. It takes the simple story of a misunderstood alien stranded on our planet but exceeds the banality of the trope through the style and the storytelling. What happens on this film exists on such an enormous size and scale: we see explosions, carnage, guns and tanks gone haywire, and an alien the size of a school bus. But most of this doesn't really happen until the second act. The film shifts our attention from what's really going on to the building drama between the characters, showing us the positive and negative relationships between parents and kids, between kids and kids, and between parents and parents. The first we see of our young protagonist Joey Lamb is when he's mourning the loss of his mother. Several months later, he and his friends are celebrating the end of school, trying to get girls' attention, and working on a low-budget zombie film project. Then, very suddenly, a train crash jolts us out of the realm of the usual and into the realm of the unusual. For the rest of the film, we are constantly moving back and forth between these two environments. These kids nearly got killed by train cars flying through the air like huge flaming missiles. The next day, they're just biking around, chatting about their film project, and trying to get film developed. People will be doing normal things, trying to focus on their jobs or hang out with friends. Then suddenly we'll see something else, something that completely throws us off balance and shows us something that's mounting, something big that's moving beneath the casual everyday small town that these kids are living in. By showing us the train-wreck within the first fifteen minutes of the film, J.J. Abrams has satiated our need for action and excitement- but he's also told us very little. He's tantalizing us, throwing wide open a door that leads to a whole other mystery, a mystery that ingeniously unfolds throughout the film, little by little, until the riveting conclusion. But of course, Abrams also knows that this would all be for nothing if not for the great attention given to character development. The alien is really a subplot, an interruption to the real issues that Joey and his father face- the story of grief, friendship, compassion, and loyalty. This is what really drives our involvement in the story, and this is what we really care about when the final scene is taking place, that these things are being brought around to some sort of resolution. Super 8 may blend genres of action, sci-fi, fantasy, adventure, and thriller- but what's most impressive is that it winds up succeeding as a family film just as much as it succeeds in any of the other categories, tying together strong themes of family and forgiveness throughout the story, but doing so in a subtle and almost unnoticeable way instead of pounding you over the head with moralizing or forced sentimentality. Understated for its astounding ability to appeal to audiences of almost any age, Super 8 isn't just J.J. Abrams' best film, it's probably the best film I've seen in a long while.

-Julian Rhodes

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