I was having a conversation with a friend after having seen Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes and expressed my disappointment. The mere fact that I could be disappointed meant that I had some level of expectation the film just didn’t seem to meet.

I’m the type of person who has three or four movie sites I visit every day to gather my news information. I watch trailers incessantly. I read Roger Ebert’s reviews every Friday. I saw fifty-nine movies in theaters last year. Is that all that were released? No, but more than one per week. Coupled with all the films I watch and re-watch at home, I consider myself to be a huge movie fan. I’m aware that there are people out there more fanatical than I. That happens.

However, I’ve had the thought every once in a while and re-registered the notion in the conversation with my friend, what would happen if I refused to read anything about what a movie is about (to go in completely surprised) or read any reviews (thus staving off perhaps swaying my opinion and my expectations of them). I’d done a lot of thought about this and would like to try this little experiment out myself. I’ve been so envious when Ebert every once in a while mentions he had no idea what to expect from a film, as he mustn’t even see trailers when he attends his press screenings. The idea that I could see a movie with a completely blank slate is probably impossible. If I don’t read any reviews, how do I know what I should see? I’m not going to go to the theater each Friday and blindly pick one of the new titles. That’s just not going to happen. There are also certain filmmakers’ works I just NEED to see. I don’t want to miss out. So, I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ll obviously be forced into seeing the trailers in front of the films I see in the theater and just to get a little bit more exposure to smaller films, I’ll watch “The Ultimate Trailer Show” on HDNet. I won’t seek trailers out. I won’t hunt down information about each film. I’ll try to keep my judgments to a minimum only enough to tell myself whether I feel I should seek out a particular film or not. I’m not the New Year’s Resolution type, but this timing happens to correspond pretty nicely.

Although what I just said above I’ll attempt to hold true, there are still a list of 20 films I look forward to seeing this year. I’m sure I’ll be disappointed by some and I naturally know a bit about each and the hype surrounding them, but that’s what it takes to put together a list like this.

Please note: The Wolfman and Shutter Island are not on this list, because they were on last year’s list. I still look forward to seeing them, however.

Here they are, in alphabetical order:

Alice in Wonderland

I wouldn’t consider myself a Tim Burton fan, but I’m curious to see his take on this age-old tale. Helena Bonham Carter looking like she just got hit with the “Big Head” code in NBA Jam looks amusing. Of course, I also enjoy myself some Anne Hathaway.

American, The

Cloon-dog plays an assassin who hides out in a village to shroud his identity. His presence is the reason for my interest in this.

Dinner for Schmucks

An adaptation of a French film that I’ve yet to see, but is consistently touted about a group of people who play a game where the players are supposed to bring the stupidest people they can find to dinner. Sacha Baron Cohen (whose Bruno I just got on Blu-ray today) was once supposed to star. Now it’s Paul Rudd and Steve Carrell. Still.

Due Date

Zach Galifianakis continues to rise after his turn in The Hangover. This time in kind of a Midnight Run situation with Robert Downey Jr. Gotta like the comedic chops on display in this one.

Green Hornet, The

If I could only see three movies this year, this would be one of them. I’m serious. Seth Rogen wrote the script with Evan Goldberg, to be directed by Michel Gondry. It was huge news to me when it was announced and my excitement remains. I couldn’t imagine a more interesting choice and this just has to be one of the most intriguing films of the year.

Green Zone

The trailer underwhelmed me. It looks like Bourne in the Army, when I was hoping for something at least slightly different. However, I don’t want to underestimate what Paul Greengrass can do.

Hereafter, The

“Director, Clint Eastwood.” If you read my Movies of the Decade list, you’ll find those words used to mean nothing to me. Now, they mean a lot. He’s directing a supernatural thriller this time out which normally wouldn’t intrigue me, but because he’s at the helm, I’ve got to root for him.

Inception

I’m glad the trailers have told me nothing. With my little experiment, I assume I’ll stay that way until I’m parked in a theater seat. It just looks mind-bendingly insane.

Iron Man 2

The first IM was very cool. Downey proved to be a great choice and the scene with Whiplash banging his electricity-crackling whips on the ground in the trailer looks beautiful.

Kick-Ass

Sadly, there’s been WAY too much hype surrounding this film. It probably won’t die down for me in the next three months. I need to see exactly what it’s all about. I’ve at least refused to watch the redband trailer that’s been put out there.

Last Airbender, The

I still like Shyamalan. Do I have faith in him? Probably not, but I do root for him. I liked the two-shot teaser that was released. The tons of ships being slowly revealed brings a shiver to my spine. I’ve never seen the show it’s based on, nor do I care to.

Nightmare on Elm Street, A

I couldn’t care less about the Nightmare of Elm Street series. I’m all about Jackie Earle Haley, though, and he is THE reason I can’t wait to check this one out.

Other Guys, The

Will Ferrell, Mark Wahlberg, directed by Adam McKay. I have yet to be truly wowed by the Ferrell/McKay team, but still look forward to when they do.

Predators

I’m not a rabid fanboy of the Predator series, as I’ve only seen the first installment. I re-watched it a few months ago and it still holds up. Robert Rodriguez’s script sounds like it has a good basis to it, so I say “bring it on.”

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World

Another comic-book based film in which I’m completely unfamiliar with the source, but it doesn’t temper my hopes for it. Edgar Wright’s proven to be a visual stylist.

Social Network, The

I was thrown off by the idea of David Fincher doing a Facebook movie for the longest time. It still seems an odd choice, but over time I’ve grown extremely interested. I even downloaded an audiobook of the original novel. But, maybe now I shouldn’t listen to it.

Toy Story 3

Pixar. You know each film you make will make this list on a yearly basis. I’m somewhat worried about it being another sequel of course, but I have no reason to believe this won’t be as great as any other of their entries.

Tree of Life, The

This is the one that may or may not come out this year. Who knows? It’s Terrence Malick. It stars Brad Pitt and Sean Penn. Supposedly there are going to be dinosaurs. No more info needed.

Wall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps

I’m a moderate fan of Wall Street. I’ve only seen it once, but enjoyed it and admired Stone’s directorial flourish. I still like Shia LaBeouf as an actor, no matter what people say about him. This has me very intrigued.

Your Highness

I’ve read other “Most Anticipated” lists and although not stated why, I’ve read that I should be looking forward to this. Danny McBride, James Franco, Natalie Portman and David Gordon Green at the helm at least provides some reason for interest.

A little over a year ago, “Entertainment Weekly” came out with a list of their top 100 movies of the last 25 years. It was one of the worst lists I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Their number one movie made sense to me (it was Pulp Fiction), but it seemed too obvious. However, that had little to do with why I was so put off by their collection of film titles. It failed to put my favorite film of all-time, The Shawshank Redemption, a film widely accepted as beloved, if not perfect in ways as not only not their number one film of the past 25 years, but not even in their top 100! I can fathom very little (except perhaps why there are still proud Oakland Raiders fans in this country) as being more ridiculous.

So, while hanging out with a couple of my friends one night, we decided to compile our own list. The “actual” list of the top 100 films of the prior quarter-century of cinema. We each, independently, took a piece of paper and wrote down our favorite films we could remember. We looked at lists on the internet and we piped up every once in a while to see if a great title that just popped into our head had been remembered by the other members of the group. I don’t remember if we each chose 100. It could have been more, it could have been less. Then, one-by-one, we read our lists aloud. If one person said a title and the other two confirmed it as being on their list as well, it was recorded. If one read a title and only one person agreed to it as being worthy, it was written down on a separate list. If one person read a title and neither agreed about its merits, it didn’t make the list at all. Eventually we took all the unanimous vote titles and whittled down the “two-vote” titles to 100 deserving films. For the next step, we ranked those films from 1 through 100 individually and then read our rankings aloud. Each number was added to the next to create that film’s “total vote” (like golf, the lower the number, the better the ranking. 3 was the best possible score) and then the film with the lowest total votes was given first place and on down the line. There was the inevitable ridiculousness of a complete outlier ranking (Training Day at 16 on one list coming instantly to mind) and the fact that one member chose to rate the films he hadn’t seen at the bottom of his list (he had yet to see a Guy Ritchie film), but by-and-large, the most important titles held their ground satisfactorily. Coincidentally, Pulp Fiction ended up at number one on our list as well, though no one voted it as their favorite. Shawshank came in third and I believe it was Saving Private Ryan that was sandwiched between the two. I could live with that.

This futile but enjoyable exercise was done prior to the existence of this website, so the list was never filtered into the internet ether (aside from some passed Word documents hanging out in our e-mails accounts). One may wonder, what the point of writing about it is, with the subject of this article being about the top ten movies of the decade. Well, we tried to do the same thing for a best of the decade list. We narrowed the number to just 25, but the fact that either not everybody had seen all the same movies or just downright didn’t agree that they belonged as one of the best caused me to be underwhelmed with the result this time out. So, I decided to go solo. It allowed me to include three films in my top 10 list which weren’t even eligible for our top 25 under our collective rules. That’s my reasoning for branching out. That’s the reason for this list. It contains everything I wanted to be on it.

Runner-Up: Traffic

There’s no real point in breaking out of my own established boundary, but in this instance, I’ve seen this film passed up on a lot of these types of lists and I wonder why. The film was released in 2000, the fledgling year of the 2000’s and was what I was rooting for in the Oscars that year. Of course the title of Best Picture went to Gladiator (a film I’ve seen on the day of release and not once since), but Steven Soderbergh’s sprawling drama about drug-trafficking and our country’s “drug war” was profoundly more affecting and haunting in my mind. I still believe it to be his best work and it was a welcome introduction to the decade in cinema soon to come.

10. Million Dollar Baby

The phrase “director, Clint Eastwood,” meant nothing to me prior to seeing this film. It didn’t strike up any feeling whatsoever, positive or negative. However, since then, his name attached to a new film commands my instant attention. In what has become pretty common over the past few years, Eastwood’s film was a persona-non-grata amon fanboy hype. I don’t even recall hearing its title, much less seeing a trailer until very near the film’s release. Even then, the title and the subject of a female boxer only worked to repel me more. The hype persuaded me, though. Morgan Freeman already held a place in my heart due to the aforementioned affection for The Shawshank Redemption and I figured I’d at least be getting something there. What I received was much more. I bought in wholly to Hilary Swank’s plight and Eastwood’s father figure, but still didn’t know how this boxing movie would elevate itself. The brutal nature of some select scenes and a completely rip-the-carpet-from-beneath-your-feet third act left me floored. The template set up by this film was so strong in my mind, it directly led to my adoration for Eastwood’s 2008 film, Gran Torino. Although formulas may exist, it’s how they are used that set films apart from each other.

9. Memento

If I felt like doing so, I would write this whole paragraph in backwards sentences. I read about this film and its conceit prior to its release when in college. I decided to steal the storytelling concept from it for an English paper I had to do and of course the absurd creativity my plagiarism had conveyed earned me an A. Although the backward way Christopher Nolan presented this film will always be why it’s so greatly remembered, the film still resonates far beyond its framing gimmick. The bravado of cluing the viewers into Guy Pearce’s character’s world via forward-moving black-and-white and backward-scrolling color is pitch perfect, as is the neo-noir crime story told from an individual’s perspective.

8. Inglourious Basterds

This is the newest film on this list and although time has not been on its side in terms of letting the film “sink in” just yet, I had no doubt where it would be ranked from the moment I exited the theater. Like Pulp Fiction in the 90s, Quentin Tarantino has created another decade-defining classic. Like the Coen Brothers (who I’m far less a fan of than a lot of others out there), he dares to go where typical filmmakers would never dream. Some are outraged by his having the gall to re-write history for his own purposes, whereas I feel he should be completely commended. Brilliant performances accompany Q.T.’s direction and script, but I believe he is the star. The film is far off what I normally would desire from a film depicting the greatest war (which is combat; thank you Saving Private Ryan), but Tarantino is interested in higher thoughts. He gathers a band of interconnected war-torn characters and blends them into a familiar, yet specialized backdrop. When the credits rolled, I refused to get out of my seat. The sound of Ennio Morricone’s orchestra was too much to let me stand.

7. Unbreakable

M. Night Shyamalan has been verbally crapped upon a lot this decade. I won’t say some of it’s not deserved. The fact that the quality of his films are poor isn’t what did it, it’s that he showed such promise and ability prior to, building up our collective hopes. Although 2002’s Signs is still a great movie, this is his best. Superhero films are a dime a dozen nowadays. There are multiple recreations of comic book heroes each summer. My favorite part of their first installments has always been the origins. How did these extraordinary people come to be? They usually lose me after the first act. However, Unbreakable is ALL origin story. It’s all about discovering one’s potential and we are awed, much like Bruce Willis’ son.

6. Amelie

During my Film Studies major orientation, the group leader asked everybody in the group to name a movie. Just a movie. For the hell of it. One guy said Amelie and went on to further critique it as “a perfect movie.” I had seen it prior and disagreed with that assessment. Therefore, I wrote that guy off as a potential buddy. However, in courses and during further home viewings, that sentiment has grown on me. It’s whimsical and light in a way I wouldn’t normally enjoy. It appeals too much to a side of me I rarely express. That’s why I’m forced to respect it for eventually penetrating my rough exterior. Audrey Tautou and Jean-Pierre Jeunet combine to create something that definitely approaches perfection.

5. Borat

If there’s only one film on this list I would describe as a “game-changer,” this is it. In my mind, the world of cinematic comedy can be divided into two halves, before Borat and after Borat. Prior to Sacha Baron Cohen’s outlandish comedy, I resented all feature-length laughers (for the most part). Their biggest star appeared to be Mike Myers and his Austin Powers franchise or the most idiotic, debased “yukfests,” which called Adam Sandler or Rob Schneider: “star.” Borat is when that landscape changed. I was a monster fan of “Da Ali G Show,” so I was fully aware of the Kazakhstani character before his big screen debut, but I didn’t know all of my dreams for the character could be fulfilled in one 90-minute piece of greatness. Oddly enough, some of the DVD’s deleted scenes are mind-bogglingly good and it’s a shame the country wasn’t yet ready for Bruno in mid-2009. However, all that matters is that at least one of these great products lives forever in our hearts.

4. Little Children

Since American Beauty was released in 1999 (like way too many great films), it doesn’t qualify for this list. However, a more than able suburban drama makes its way in the form of Todd Field’s unheralded classic. I’ll admit to being infatuated with Kate Winslet and any film featuring her in the buff couldn’t possibly be wrong, but this film captures so much more that’s right. The chief performance among them was delivered by Jackie Earle Haley as the recently released pedophilic miscreant. His character is so innocent, yet his aura is like a shark, constantly in search of prey. There are also stand-out scenes with profound voice-over work that make the film somewhat akin to a fairy tale. However, this is how life exists in suburbia. We just have to look closer to discover it.

3. Children of Men

Damn you, Alfonso Cuaron. “There’s so much beauty…I feel like I can’t take it.” I’m a monster fan of incredible visuals and camera moves. It’s why Kubrick and Hitchcock stand alone as my favorite directors to have ever lived. In this film, Cuaron delivered a film, I believe to be worthy of Lord Stanley. The dystopian and war-ravaged United Kingdom was a magnificently realized place, with a hopeful story about the possibility of continuing mankind, but I’ll be damned if Cuaron didn’t provide us with the most haunting visual delight we’ve seen in quite some time, if not ever. The scene that will stand out to most would be the 10-minute-long shot toward the end of the film as Clive Owen’s character makes his way through a firefight. However, the scene that stuck with me for longest and had my jaw in my hands in the theater was during an ambush when (for spoiler’s sakes) a key character is killed. The camera is stationed completely inside this jeep as our main characters attempt to reverse their direction and flee to safety. The ability the camera has to place the viewer in this scene is what makes cinema the most experiential of all the arts.

2. Ratatouille

To saw that I’m a Pixar fan may be an understatement. Fan is short for fanatic, which I’d have to say, I’m something slightly above. In fact, I almost had to tell myself to limit their films to just one title in this list. The great thing is, I don’t have to tell anybody how great the Emeryville studio is, they already know it. Most people have a favorite Pixar film. Mine has changed over the years from Monsters, Inc. to this. Some people can’t get past the idea of a rat being in a kitchen. Like Al Davis said to Lane Kiffin, “get over it.” When my schoolmate proclaimed Amelie to be “perfect,” I bristled at the claim not only in conjunction with that particular film, but I understand film to be so subjective that word simply can’t exist when discussing them. However, Brad Bird’s masterpiece is as close as it gets. Ingenuity abounds from start to finish with one of the most memorable shots ever taking place once the title dish touches the harsh critic Anton Ego’s lips.

1. City of God

Remember my story about my two friends and I trying out our little combination “best of the decade” list? This was its success story, as all three of us (unbeknownst to the others) selected this film as the pinnacle of what cinema had to offer these last ten years. With this triad selection it goes to show how identifiable in some way this work of art is to my personality and the personality types I choose to associate with. You choose your friends for their similarities to yourself, and we each found something in Fernando Meirelles’ hyper-kinetic visual representation of the gangland-controlled slums of Brazil. It masquerades as a coming-of-age tale, which happens to define a culture few of us knew existed. The word “gritty” fails to capture its essence and I would instead use the term “hardcore.” Although I would argue all of these films are downright classics that should be revered for years to come, there can only be one that exists as the best of its decade.

In a year already decorated with and defined by a strong, liberating output from female directors, Lone Scherfig’s An Education is a calculated and sophisticated work about a time when women were questioning and challenging their cultural boundaries. Opposed to Kathryn Bigelow’s magnificent war-drama The Hurt Locker or Jane Campion’s lush period drama Bright Star, Scherfig’s film is the first crowning woman’s achievement of the year that’s actually about women.

Set in suburban London in 1962 and adapted from Lynn Barber’s true-life memoir by screenwriter Nick Hornby, An Education charts the coming-of-age journey of 16-year old Jenny (slam-dunk Best Actress nominee Carey Mulligan), who is courted by a rich, slick traveler and his swooning red sports car on a rainy weekday afternoon. The striking fellow is David, a middle-aged smoothie with nice suits, played by Peter Sarsgaard with astonishing intrigue and mystery. He’s so much more mature and suave than Jenny’s long, lanky and more appropriately aged admirer, Graham, that the film decides to play up this dramatic disparity with welcome comedic results.

Miss Stubbs (Olivia Williams) adamantly dissaproves of Jenny's (Carey Mulligan) decision to continue seeing her middle-aged boyfriend

As a smart, book savvy teenage girl with an almost disobedient affection for French cinema and music, the promise of a life of fortune, fashion and adventure can prove to be too much to ignore. Not only for Jenny, but for her father (played by the wonderful Alfred Molina) who is equally hypnotized and spellbound by the allures of David’s protection as he weighs the cost of Jenny’s education at Oxford.

Such is the vulnerability and inadequacy of growing up a woman in 1962. For them, and for Jenny, your choices are to either lock up with the first rich and confiding man you see or work your heart out to live a life of harmless, but stable conformity – something Jenny sees in her English teacher, Miss Stubs, (Olivia Williams). Jenny describes the blank, expressionless educator as “dead” ever since her graduation from Cambridge, implying a disgracefully apathetic life of tedium opposed to her globetrotting affairs with David.

You could say that this film represents the end of an era where women were powerless and susceptible to an easy life of non-conformity, knowing the alternative. Similar to AMC’s hit series “Mad Men,” also set in the early 60’s, the movie represents an age of impending cultural revolution where women were just beginning to question their societal limitations.

David (Peter Sarsgaard) is a natural when it comes to meeting the parents (Alfred Molina and Cara Seymour).

It’s such an honest and perfectly framed film, quaint and classy, jazzy and refined. Nick Hornby’s script is both penetratingly exact yet opaque, without a wasted breath or scene in-between. Scherfig, meanwhile, uses her feminine touch to make the film resonate where it otherwise might not have – similar to the way Kathryn Bigelow’s unnatural masculinity enhanced The Hurt Locker. Also, John de Borman’s rich lensing gives An Education a pleasurable and alluring palette, like a cozy street-side café.

Carey Mulligan, a 24-year old English actress who will be a household name come Spring next year, gives a star-turn here as the perhaps ignorantly confident Jenny. She has such an immediate presence in the film that’s rare for a young actress and it’s easily the best in a top-to-bottom stunning ensemble. Dominic Cooper and Rosamund Pike, as David’s equally posh and carefree friends – plus Emma Thompson as the school headmaster – all contribute to the cause.

As Jenny finds her existential truths and her place in the world around her, An Education reverberates like no other coming-of-age drama of recent memory. “Action builds character,” she says, and although it’s not necessarily in the sense that she means at the time, the message fits regardless. Sometimes, the best education is the one that doesn’t have to be bought.

For the better part of a decade, Nicolas Cage has sauntered through a plenitude of dopey, dead-weight, mid-major action films. But like a true savior, Werner Herzog has turned Cage from the dark side – still sensing good in him – and given the 45-year old actor one of the greatest roles of his career as the reckless, off-kilter and just plain bad, post-Katrina Lieutenant Terence McDonagh.

After a rare bout of heroism during the opening scene in Werner Herzog’s crazily trigger-happy Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans (an update of Abel Ferrera’s 1992 film), our titular subject and plainly described antihero suffers an evidently permanent back injury. His chest now slinks to one side, his gape more deliberate, his appearance more fatigued – the pain becoming impervious to the delicate relief of the merely prescribed pain medication. Such is the life of New Orleans’ most vulnerable powder keg of a police officer, and that’s before being placed in charge of a brutal quintuple homicide case.

Stevie Pruit (Val Kilmer) and Terence McDonagh (Nicolas Cage) -- New Orleans' finest.

With stress on the job and in his lower back, McDonagh takes advantage of his employee discount and acquires a taste for a more radical dose of painkillers. With the help of a cooperative yet cautious co-worker (Revolutionary Road’s Michael Shannon) and offenders who would like to avoid jail-time, McDonagh recklessly spirals into the life of a drug-addict. Of course, drugs lead to inebriated impulsions and our Lieutenant soon finds himself buried in debt to his regular bookie (Brad Dourif) and the target of a powerful city kingpin after an encounter with a non-paying customer of his prostitute “girlfriend” (Eva Mendes) turns sour. Then, when a break in the case is revealed, placing a cooperating witness in police custody, it’s McDonagh’s job to keep him in town and out of harm’s way.

But this police business proves to be tough sledding when you’re having to dodge your backwoods alcoholic father and sister or the precarious foot-long iguanas that aren’t actually there, if you’re listening to the advice of partner Stevie Pruit (Val Kilmer). There are no pulled punches in the provocation department, and like his main character of interest, Herzog proves to be an addict of the offbeat and the eccentric.

A renowned and legendary German director and documentarian, Herzog is best known for his 70’s/80’s masterpieces Aguirre: The Wrath of God (’72), Nosferatu (’79) and Fitzcarraldo (’82). The two of those films that don’t dredge in vampire legend are warped personal character studies about men who have lost themselves in an attempt to gain something (both played by Klaus Kinski). Here, decades later, Herzog is tapping into similar fundamental material – despite the fact that, at times, it’s unclear what Lieutenant Terence McDonagh actually wants – in a nevertheless, equally disturbing and fiendishly straight-forward study about a man in a serious crisis.

McDonagh doesn't resort to usual interrogation techniques at Deshaun Hackett's (Lucius Baston) home.

But this isn’t Aguirre, or Fitzcarraldo, or one of Herzog’s better films. Its maniacal tone and schizo-comedic shape outperform and upstage the film’s weaknesses and thematic shortcomings, resulting in something categorically auteurist in its own dark and comedically stimulating way. Shot with mostly handheld cameras on location in Louisiana and parts of Southern Mississippi, “Bad Lieutenant” looks like a post-Katrina doc on law enforcement insubordination. Interior lighting is limited to window streaks and only the wide-angle scene-setters of the New Orleans cityscape really glisten. It has all the spark and finish of a direct-to-DVD release.

What Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans has in manic energy and perverse excursions, it lacks in genuine artistry. It’s a pot-fumed, pass-the-joint cult classic in the making but it never calls itself out or gives any rhyme or reason to its motives to become anything more amply deserving. Neither does Terence McDonagh ever evolve over the course of the film, and even though Nicolas Cage is absolutely brilliant at this kind of pulsating, itchy and oddball acting, he’s never fully formed – there is never that moment. Still, it’s endlessly entertaining to watch an actor like this at the top of his game after such an Eddie Murphy-like drought of substance. Like McDonagh, Cage should apply to the theory that sometimes, it’s good to be bad.

There have been plenty of sci-fi related films to go around of late. We have seen The Road, Pandorum, District 9, and of course, the summer’s $400mm smash hit Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen.  But now, Jared and Jerusha Hess, the writing team behind the indie hit Napoleon Dynamite, bring us a different kind of sci-fi. The literary kind (that still plays itself out on screen in goofy-as-heck fashion).  Reindeer that shoot guns out of their eyes (and other orifices)? Check.  One-eyed, lo-fi, cyclops aliens?  Check.  Sam Rockwell as both a transvestite and tough guy hero to rival his dual role in another sci-fi film Moon?  Umm, check?  Gentlemen Broncos is a wacky type of work.

The new movie stars Jermaine Clement (TV’s “Flight of the Conchords”) as Ronald Chevalier, a flamboyant science fiction/fantasy novelist of some repute and notoriety.  Unfortunately, he needs a new book as his publisher is unsatisfied with his unsaleable latest effort and is threatening to drop him.  When a down on his luck Chevalier heads to a “Cletus Fest,” a writers summit where he aims to teach teenage fan-geeks his celebrity methods of fantastical scribe, a young man named Benjamin (Snow Angels‘ Michael Angarano) shows up, hoping to tap into the brain of his fave author.  All the while, Stifler’s mom from American Pie, Jennifer Coolidge’s Judith, has son Ben in the most ridiculous get-ups imaginable.  It’s no wonder dude has no friends.  Cletus Fest represents a chance for Ben to submit his “Yeast Lords” story for the grand prize, a 1,000 copy publishing deal across bookstores nationwide.  You see where this is going.  Chevalier steals Ben’s story for his own work in an effort to regain the fame he seeks.

Who doesn't want to ride a missile launching reindeer?

That simple premise alone though, does not a film make.  Ben needs friends, or so his mom thinks, so she hires a Guardian Angel to look after/befriend him.  That angel is caught up in a low-budget filming of Ben’s “Yeast Lords” work that he sells to a director who likely has no intention of paying him for his work.  The film premieres to disastrous results, even while the films “stars” and director are gaining a small level of celebrity.  The low budget movie is so cheesy though (it’s the director’s 84th film) that it’s kinda fun, but Ben is always the one on the outside looking in.  No recognition for his efforts other than being humiliated in public for his attempt at acting which results in one of many upchuck scenes in the film, though this will likely be the most memorable.

While Angarano is able, Clement is the film’s greatest strength, lisping his way through vignettes with the speech redundancy of a pair of shoes and a constant sight gag in a golden bluetooth earpiece. An amusing scene where he adds suffixes to character names for his students registers high marks.  “You can add ‘anous’ to any name to improve it,” he muses.  Illustrations for would-be book covers, including one where women with “mammary cups that shoot laser rain,” are depicted.  “Broncos” has some nice moments in the middle of the bizarre madness.

Ben's Guardian Angel has a snake with digestive issues for protection.

Throughout, the film cuts back and forth between the sci-fi work of “Lords” being narrated, and it’s rework “Brutus and Balzaak,” with Rockwell playing the lead character.  We know what reality is though, as side plots abound as the film progresses.  One particular sub-plot that never fully fleshes itself out in the form of a possible love story aside (was he taken advantage of?), “Broncos” keeps things on a zig-zag path that world-famous Lombard street in San Francisco would be proud of; it’s a little weird getting there, but you still reach your destination.

It’s similar in tone, if not scope, to “Dynamite.”  Bizarre 70’s retro meets modern day (though in a lot of ways, you’d never know it), as everything is stuck in a time capsule.  Wood paneled interior to homes.  Night gown designs by aspiring designer Judith that cross futuristic with extreme conservatism.  It’s like The Never Ending Story meets Lord of the Rings, all done in the oddest way possible.  This is by no means, my kind of story, but it deserves credit for quirk and originality, and undoubtedly for many (myself included), some dumb, stupid laughs at it’s own expense.  Hard to fault it too much for giving such a genuine effort.  This won’t hold the appeal of the Hess duo’s earlier hit, but it should satisfy their fans just the same.

Director F. Gary Gray, with all of his mustered machismo brutality and combustible set pieces, is back and he has the judicial system in his sights with Law Abiding Citizen. Swooping flyover shots of the William Penn bronze statue sitting atop Philadelphia’s City Hall are filmed with a seemingly discerning eye while judges and prosecutors alike are depicted as flamboyantly assertive and dishonest.

This is an oppressive film, with its industrial color palette, clanging shackles and flood of legal terminology. If you could smell a film, Law Abiding Citizen would smell like a musty wrought-iron fence. But wait until the slimy politicians and self-preserving district attorneys start roaming the halls of steel-caged thugs who aren’t any more animalistic and unlawful than the prosecutors who put them there. As they speak, you can even see their corruptness and indecency through the cold, wintry air – that is until they receive a new inmate, Clyde Shelton.

Clyde (Gerard Butler) is a father and a husband who is the victim of a random break-in, which brings about the death of his wife and daughter at the hands of two brutes. The prosecutor in this case, Nick Rice (Jamie Foxx), in an effort to guarantee a conviction, makes a deal with one of the two murderers who is now a cooperating witness and will testify in court against the other. So we have two murderers – one gets the death penalty, one gets off in three years.

The police escort Clyde Shelton (Gerard Butler) to a squad car, just a minor step in Clyde's grand scheme.

Outside the courthouse, in front of a sea of photographers, Nick shakes the witness’ hand in the view of a sheepish and bewildered Clyde, who has just witnessed the injustice of the legal system first-hand. The fact that Nick was unwilling to go to court and get a conviction for both men because of insubstantial evidence, despite it being the absolute truth, makes it all the more difficult for Clyde to swallow. Fast-forwarding ten years, the film quickly becomes an amoral revenge-kick before switching gears completely (to its credit) into a somewhat rational undressing of the American judicial system through the mind games of the now imprisoned, yet still mystifyingly dangerous, Clyde Shelton. “I’ll bring the whole system down on your head”, he says to the wide-eyed and frustrated Nick, “it’s gonna be biblical.”

The fundamental problem with “Citizen” is that it’s a film that wants to toe the morality line and do it under the guise of a slick package, but it simply doesn’t have what it takes under the hood. Our two protagonists are given bland, lifeless dialogue to just throw back-and-forth while the filmmaking is far too routine to overcome the lack of viable substance and certainty. Compounding matters are the surprisingly flat and underwhelming performances of not only the supporting cast but also the two main stars.

Cell phones are actually really dangerous in this movie. They can be used to make deals with criminals and apparently be rigged to...you know.

Gerard Butler (300, The Ugly Truth) is just plainly miscast here as an unbelievable portrait of a grieving father/husband-turned-vigilante. He’s too rough and prickly with his lisp and toned-physique – the fact that I never bought him as this “wounded soul” could not be compensated for by button-down shirts and raincoats, much to the filmmakers’ surprise. Jamie Foxx, on the other hand, looks like he needed a warm cup of coffee to the face. Supporting players and familiar faces like Colm Meaney and Bruce McGill are almost too ideal for their roles while female counterparts like Leslie Bibb (Iron Man) as an understudy lawyer to the district attorney and Viola Davis (Doubt) as the no-nonsense Mayor are hopelessly derivative.

I do appreciate what the film is trying to do here, but it’s often too non-committal, meandering and preposterous. When Clyde’s secret, or rather how he does what he does, is revealed, it’s both a letdown and a shot to the film’s already crumbling credibility. When it’s over, we get the feeling that Clyde’s goal could have been obtained through simpler means and spared us the lecture.

Although a lot of adults say they wish they could go back to being kids, most kids would say they can’t wait to get older. The Catch-22 of the circle of life. The grass is always greener wherever you aren’t, so adults look back fondly upon their childhood, while youngsters imagine an ability to do anything you could possibly dream of, as long as you were of age. Being a child is no picnic, though. It’s difficult to adhere to a parental figure’s whim and mood. As a non-authority figure, your voice is very rarely, if ever, heard, unless crying. Even then, the objective it determine how to shut you up. At the centerpiece of Where the Wild Things Are, Max experiences similar childhood difficulties.

Max is our nine-year-old hero. He’s an imaginative child maybe not by choice, but out of necessity. His father is no longer around, his mother works and he has a teenage older sister (is there any worse a combination?). Because of these circumstances, Max is left to his own devices and must imagine a world possible for him to inhabit. He builds an “igloo” out of a mound of snow and though playfully at first, gets involved in a snowball fight with his sister and her friends. Things quickly turn for the worse when he retreats to his igloo and one of his foes collapses the structure, scaring him. His sibling offers no help, so he marches up to her room, spreads the dirty frozen water around and trashes the one thing he had bothered to give her. That ought to teach her.

As a single parent, Max’s mother must work to support their family. The two seemingly have a strong relationship between them, as Max possesses the ability to cheer her up with a dance and a story. The quiet moments when he’s able to command attention is when he feels most in his comfort zone. Unfortunately for him and those around him, lives do not revolve around a nine-year-old and when Max’s mother has another man over for dinner, he takes offense to it and makes a scene. Try as his mother might, she’s unable to coax him down from his soapbox and he runs away in protest.

He runs into his own dreamland, occupied by larger-than-life creatures deemed “Wild Things.” Some take the form of enlarged animals, others a purely imagined creation. Upon arrival, Max declares himself their king and they are open to a ruler after living a seemingly aimless existence and unstructured life which knows no borders. Amongst the Wild Things, he is the authority figure they look up to for discipline and Max may figure out being the sole voice of reason isn’t as easy as it seems.

You're never too young to get a sweater from Grandma for Christmas.

Adapting the film from the beloved children’s book could not have been an easy feat, story-wise. The book contains little in terms of plot description, giving only the slightest framework to writers Dave Eggers & Spike Jonze. Instead, the visual adaptation of author Maurice Sendak’s gorgeous illustrations is what makes the film feel familiar to fans of the source material. The actualized Wild Things are a sight to behold, brought to life via a combination of puppetry and CGI facial moments. They are exact physical replicas of Sendak’s characters, able to send chills through the spines of any child who dared dream what Max’s imaginary friends would look like in real life. It’s a truly beautiful look.

The film was originally slated for release about a year previous, but was delayed due to a string of floating rumors. One of them was the studio thought the film was too dark to be a children’s movie and they wanted the tone lightened up. If this new version is “lighter,” they had every right to be concerned. By no means is this a children’s film. If anybody insists that it is, it’s the Leaving Las Vegas of children’s films. Aside from the first few minutes, the movie is largely unsettling and deals with depressed states and unhappiness. The two main Wild Things, Carol (male) and K.W. (female), have had some sort of unexplained past together. They appear to represent warring parents, forever wallowing in unhappiness. There is little to no redeeming value in Max’s trip to their island, aside from perhaps showing even imaginary life is no better than reality.

Another rumor from the one-year delay in release is supposedly the studio wanted Max to be recast. That’s a move that would’ve been absolutely wrong. Aside from the visually realized Wild Things, Max Records is the saving grace of the film. Max couldn’t possibly have been portrayed by anybody else, as Records is the boy in the wolf suit from the illustrated book. Though the story can be confounding in its message and outright dull at times, Records manages to be rambunctiously perfect. The character can certainly be viewed as a bit of a jerk, but Records has the ability to carry the viewer through, by his side.

It’s impossible to discount the creative effort attempted by Spike Jonze and his collaborators, as within the first five minutes I couldn’t help but think to myself, “what if all children’s films carried this wealth of ingenuity?” The film may be visually spectacular with a strong lead performance, but is almost excruciating to sit through. It left me in a daze, knowing but one thing, I didn’t love it. The rest of the area had to settle down a bit, like my mind had just endured a dirt clod fight. Where the Wild Things Are is a spectacular attempt at innovation, but falls far from the mark it set for itself. Perhaps more authority would have been a good thing.

“You can vote? But you are woman?…In Kazakhstan, we say God, man, horse, dog, woman, then rat and then small [crustacean].” Those are Borat’s words when discovering a female head-of-household was allowed to vote, during a door-to-door meet-and-greet alongside congressional candidate, James Broadwater, in a segment for “Da Ali G Show.” Although humorous to think even his country hadn’t caught up with the times, there was an era in which even the United States ignored a woman’s right to vote. It wasn’t until 1920 when the 19^th Amendment went into affect. That was right in the middle of when Amelia Earhart was in pursuit of becoming the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean, thus breaking down another wall in the crusade for equal rights.

As far back as she could remember, Amelia Earhart always wanted to fly planes. She’d stare up at them from the ground, surrounded by hayfields as the iron giants flew up above. No fear was struck in her, unlike the classic scene from North By Northwest, but more of a serene loneliness. She liked being by herself and being her own person, not having to conform to somebody else’s sense of time and rules. This independency from others continued to dominate Amelia’s form of thought as she ascended through the piloting ranks.

After logging 500 solo hours in the pilot’s seat, Amelia was given a chance in 1928 to become the first woman to fly across the Atlantic Ocean, just one year after Charles Lindbergh’s historic flight. The catch was that all she needed to do to qualify for such a feat was to be flown by two men, while Amelia could only play the role of backseat flier. Though problems emerge with her male crew, Amelia is determined to make it across the ocean come hell or high water and practically wills the team into the record books. She remains unsatisfied with her “achievement,” however, and vows to be the first female in the pilot’s seat to reenact the feat.

Her “historic” flight was set up by publicist George Putnam, who is determined to create a celebrity persona around Amelia after her trip around the Atlantic, regardless of where she sat inside the plane. She’s featured in corporate print ads and speaks at sold out concert halls. Eventually, George becomes enamored with his female subject and asks for her hand in marriage. Amelia, being the independent woman she is wants to pull a Beyonce, but eventually caves. George continues to orchestrate Amelia’s quest for personal glory through the air, but their relationship faces turbulence while grounded, due to the presence of Gene Vidal (author, Gore’s father), who is the director of the Commerce Department’s Bureau of Air Commerce.

The only time Amelia is truly happy, by herself.

The funny thing about Amelia is it depicts its title character not as someone who is into pushing for women’s rights, but is much more of a selfish loner only out for number one. George and Gene warn of her image in the media as someone who indulges in literal flights of fancy for her personal gain. Newspapers report she shills herself for endorsements like a real-life Krusty the Clown, purely to lavish more attention on her accomplishments. Sure she encourages a young female flier and starts an organization of female pilots called The Ninety-Nines, but those scenes are glossed over with nary a hint of meaning. The film portrays its star exactly like the media contained within it pretends to condemn.

Rather than focusing on her accomplishments or her courage to push the boundaries and confinements of women’s suffrage, the film is far more concerned with Amelia’s romantic exploits. It seems like a huge misfire given the character and heroics she brings to the table, but it could at least be partially forgiven if her romantic transgressions were in the least bit interesting. The script by Ron Bass (Entrapment) and Anna Hamilton Phelan (Girl, Interrupted) wants you to feel for Amelia’s relationship with both George and Gene, but there’s so little spark from the disinterested Amelia, why should we bother to care when she doesn’t? Due to this oversight, director Mira Nair’s film is largely devoid of any drama, aside from the inevitable final scene of Amelia’s life.

From the outset, it would seem a biopic on the life of Amelia Earhart would be an actor’s dream about a strong, determined and successful Midwestern girl. I’m sure those were the traits that attracted the two-time Oscar-winning Hilary Swank. She brings her typical tour-de-force self to the character, complete with hick-like accent and a stubborn wonderment to it all. Sadly, the material handed to her almost assures her of not reaching the heights she achieved in her two previous statue-winning performances. Much the same can be said of both Richard Gere’s George and Ewan McGregor as Gene. They’re both competently solid, but have next to nothing to work with, especially McGregor, whose character is practically superfluous.

What could have been an important film for audiences, cast and crew alike was instead dumbed down to be both dull and boring. If the film was served as a history lesson of sorts, it could have been made tolerable, but instead was more of a filmic 1930s issue of “Us” magazine. The stars deserved better with the effort they put into it, but the material doesn’t justify the hard work.

This column has produced a number of little seen gems throughout its tenure.  One of the rules to the column is that we try to avoid films that have become cult classics.  In general, of course, this is a judgment call, because everyone has their own definition of what may or may not be a cult hit film.  Obvious examples would be movies like Clerks or Donnie Darko.  For me, David O. Russell’s intelligent I Heart Huckabees finds itself firmly entrenched in this gray area, so I am giving it the green light for a write up in this edition of Films-U-Missed.  “Huckabees” was largely passed over in it’s 2004 theatrical run, earning just north of $12 million which was roughly half of it’s reported budget.  By most accounts a box office failure, but it seemed to have found some stable footing on video shelves, as evidenced by the 33,000+ rating votes on its IMDB page.

“Huckabees” was directed by the notoriously tough-to-get-along-with, David O. Russell.  He is almost more famous for his riffs with actor George Clooney and of course, the infamous one with Lily Tomlin, than he is for helming quality works such as 1996’s Flirting with Disaster (with Ben Stiller), or 1999’s Three Kings, with Wahlberg, buddy Spike Jonze, rapper Ice Cube and of course, Clooney.  The turmoil he has caused some actors might make for fun headlines, but distracts from a filmmakers oeuvre who continually challenges himself and filmgoers, with I Heart Huckabees being a prime example.

An A-list ensemble cast was on board for “Huckabees,” a difficult film to describe about existential existence.  When the tagline states “an existential comedy,” one knows they are not in for the average movie going experience, which perhaps explains why it was widely overlooked initially.  Dustin Hoffman and Lily Tomlin play a husband and wife team of investigators who aim their work at helping people uncover their existential being; their “true self” which will help grant them meaning and purpose on Earth.  Among the cast whose intertwining storylines come into play in the film are Mark Wahlberg as a firefighter struggling with familial and career issues, Jude Law, as a corporate hack and boyfriend to Naomi Watts, a model who begins to reject her looks.  It is Jason Schwartzman’s “Albert” who kicks it all into gear as a guy attempting to figure out why he has seen a strange individual on multiple occasions.  The themes of interconnectedness, randomness and circumstance all play a significant role in the piece as the plot (often hilariously) unravels in a who-done-it sort of way.

"Blocking out all thoughts will help you feel more connected to the world."

Hoffman, Tomlin and Schwartzman play off of each other brilliantly, offering up ranges between manic and confused, which might confound some moviegoers but I think serves to heighten the viewing experience.  They record and observe their subjects in every aspects of their lives.  While they are showering, sleeping, sh*tting.  The mysterious set-up with sleuths on the case framing the story place the viewer in the proper mind frame necessary to try to tackle the difficult subject matter.  Wahlberg hasn’t been this funny outside of Boogie Nights and Watts may not have been sexier playing the misinformed blonde.  O. Russell keeps the pace flowing; the movie is continually off-kilter, never allowing the viewer to settle into the idea that they have a complete handle on what is taking place or what the films message is.

On that front, ultimately trying to explain the film is futile and against the wishes of the filmmakers, in my opinion.  The purpose, in large part, is for individual viewers to examine the movie for themselves and form their own takes.  The beauty of an outside-the-box film like this is that there is no clear right or wrong.  Its a thinking man’s movie that is open to interpretation.  Fans of heavy-handed direct messages or popcorn-flick fare need not apply.  Michael Bay (Transformers 2) might not care for this.  While we await David’s The Fighter (another Wahlberg starring movie) next, if you have yet to see this, it is worth a viewing, likely multiple, for those that enjoy the concept.  Rich layers of story, character and performance nuances are uncovered upon repeat viewings as we try to figure out our own concept of what our existential beings are. It comes recommended, but I think your existential being probably already knew that.

Back when the possibility of nuclear war was a hot topic in the 80’s, there were various visions of the apocalypse and what might be left of both the earth and humanity after the destruction.  Cormac McCarthy’s 2007 Pulitzer prize winning book “The Road” details the story of a few survivors of such an event.  The film adaptation, directed by John Hillcoat (The Proposition), focuses not on the event of the apocalyptic destruction, but instead on what is left in its wake.  The aftermath sees an earth in tattered ruins and those left alive, struggling (in the immortal words of Malcolm X “by any means necessary”) to spend more time on it.

The Road stars Viggo Mortensen as ‘the man’ and Kodi-Smit McPhee as ‘the boy’; a father and son roaming the remains of earth in a journey to the coast.  The coast is seen as a place where there might be more fruitful means of living, but this might indeed be conjecture by the father, as he is attempting to teach his boy how to navigate this new version of life on earth.  Armed with a revolver with two spare bullets, the man will protect his child at all costs, against all comers.  The bullets represent the last opportunity to leave the planet with their dignity in tact.  One bullet for each person, to take their own lives should the will to win finally be too small or a situation be too fraught with danger to chance it.  Earth is inhabited by a clear sense of the unknown.  Fear everything, trust no one.

"The Man" has his game face on.

Since there are few survivors scrambling for any remnants of food, trying to achieve a means to an end, cannibalism has become the most gruesome, and in some ways necessary, means of death.  Some survivors have bonded together in rebellious groups figuring that it’s best to be part of a team to make their way through the landscape.  Most of these people would kill for a Mickey D’s,  well, really they would kill for a lot less.  Their is no sunlight, earth is covered in a steady dust.  It is cold and often wet.  Those without wilderness skills of cunning need not apply.  Hope you got your boy scout training on lock.  Clothing is at a premium.  The value of fuel makes our displeasure with high gas prices seem absolutely trivial.  A dented, still full can of soda is to be cherished.  A cigarette, even more so.  The bottom line is, things aren’t pretty.  Our duo roam like low-class homeless people, not because they are, but not because they aren’t.  Everyone is homeless.

So, not a lot happens in The Road.  That is pretty much the point.  It’s not like you are going to catch a baseball game on TV or go to the cinema.  There is no currency.  Really, there is nothing.  Nothing but what you have inside of you.  The film, in my eyes, is the most realistic and brilliant depiction of what might be left after an apocalyptic event.  That being said, it’s nothing nice.

These guys think cannibalism does a body good. That depends on which body you speak of.

This is as faithful an adaptation of the novel as necessary, an amazing job by Hillcoat. He allows the destructed landscape to speak for itself and offers up some great camera angles to keep things visually interesting.  There is a clever working in (an expansion from the novel) of the mother/wife character – portrayed by the usually strong Charlize Theron – that plays a role in how our characters views on life are shaped.  All the while, Hillcoat lets the actors be the key our participation in this desolation. Hillcoat luckily scored the rights to the novel, six months prior to it even being published.  Long before it was a best seller, a Pulitzer prize winner and an Oprah book club pick.  His gain becomes our gain, with the result being a difficult, but important, film.

The film (and the novel for that matter) is about both survival and love in their purest forms.  It is an examination of what it means to guide, to teach, to share, to learn.  It’s also on my short list for movie of the year thus far.  It is a perfect chance for all of us to look both outside – and within – ourselves, to discover what we are really all about.  While The Road is one that nobody in their right mind would literally want to travel, it is one that most should take the opportunity to see.