Roger Ebert remains among my favorite film critics on a very short list that begins with James Agee. Despite several severe health issues, Ebert’s abundant rain and insatiable curiosity are as active as ever. His published works include The Great Movies III, Roger Ebert’s Movie Yearbook 2010, and The Pot and How to Use It. Volumes I and II of The Great Movies and Awake in the Dark: The Best of Roger Ebert can also be ordered via the links in the right column of rogerebert.com. During the last 12 months, that website had 106 million views.
Prior to the awards presentations in 2011, Ebert posted his own list of what he views as “The best feature films of 2010.” Here are his selections 6-10.
To read the complete list, please click here.
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David Fincher’s The Social Network is emerging as the consensus choice as best film of 2010. Most of the critics’ groups have sanctified it, and after its initial impact it has only grown it stature. I think it is an early observer of a trend in our society, where we have learned new ways of thinking of ourselves: As members of a demographic group, as part of a database, as figures in…a social network.
My best films list also appears on my main site, but I am posting it here on the blog so that you can comment on it. In response to the reader protests of recent years, I’ve returned to the time-honored tradition of ten films arranged in order from one to ten. After that, it’s all alphabetical. The notion of objectively ordering works of art seems bizarre to me.
Here are [five of the] the year’s [ten] best feature films:
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6. Inception: A movie set within the architecture of dreams. The film’s hero (Leonardo DiCaprio) challenges a young architect (Ellen Page) to create such fantasy spaces as part of his raids on the minds of corporate rivals. The movie is all about process, about fighting our way through enveloping sheets of reality and dream, reality within dreams, dreams without reality. It’s a breathtaking juggling act by writer-director Christopher Nolan, who spent 10 years devising the labyrinthine script.
Do dreams “have” an architecture? Well, they require one for the purposes of this brilliantly visualized movie. For some time now, I’ve noticed that every dream I awaken from involves a variation of me urgently trying to return somewhere by taking a half-remembered way through streets and buildings. Sometimes I know my destination (I get off a ship and catch a train but am late for a flight and not packed). Sometimes I’m in a vast hotel. Sometimes crossing the University of Illinois campus, which has greatly changed. In every case, my attempt is to follow an abstract path (turn down here and cut across and come back up) which I could map for you. Inception led me to speculate that my mind, at least, generates architectural pathways, and that one reason I responded to Inception is that , like all movies, it was a waking dream.
7. The Secret in their Eyes: This 2009 film from Argentina won the Academy Award for best foreign film of 2010. But it opened in 2010 in the U.S., and so certainly qualifies. It spans the years between 1974 and 2000 in Buenos Aries, as a woman who is a judge and a man who is a retired criminal investigator meet after 26 years. In 1974 they were associated on a case of rape and murder, and the man still believes the wrong men were convicted of the crime. The whole case is bound up in the right wing regime of those days, and the “disappearances” of enemies of the state.
Although the criminal story is given full weight, writer-director Juan Jose Campanella is more involved in the romantic charge between his two characters. No, this isn’t a silly movie love story. These are adults–experienced, nuanced, survivors. Love has very high stakes for them, and therefore greater rewards. Soledad Villamil and Ricardo Darin have presence and authority that makes their scenes together emotionally meaningful, as beneath the surface old secrets coil.
8. The American: George Clooney plays an enigmatic man whose job is creating specialized weapons for specialized murders. He builds them, delivers the, and disappears. Now someone wants him to disappear for good. A standard thriller plot, but this is a far from mainstream thriller. Very little is explained. There is a stark minimalism at work. Much depends on our empathy. The entire drama rests on two words, “Mr. Butterfly.” We must be vigilant to realize that once, and only once, are they spoken by the wrong person — and then the whole plot reality rotates.
A few of my colleagues admired this film by Anton Corbijn very much. Most of them admired it very little. I received demands from readers that I refund their money, and messages agreeing that there was greatness here. The American reminded me of Le Samourai (1967) by Jean-Pierre Melville, which starred another handsome man (Alain Delon) in the role of an enigmatic murder professional. The film sees dispassionately, guards its secrets, and ends like a clockwork mechanism arriving at its final, clarifying tick.
9. Kids Are All Right: There are ways to read that title: Kids in general are all right, thee particular kids are all right, and it is all right for lesbians to form a family and raise them. Each mother bore one of the children, and because the same anonymous sperm donor was used, they’re half-siblings. The mothers and long-time partners are played by Julianne Moore and Annette Bening, and like many couples, they’re going through a little mid-life crisis.
Their children (Mia Wasikowska and Josh Hutcherson) unexpectedly contact their birth father (Mark Ruffalo), and the women are startled to find him back in their lives. It was all supposed to be a one-time pragmatic relationship. Ruffalo plays him as a hippie-ish organic gardener for whom “laid back” is a moral choice. He thinks it’s cool to meet his kids, it’s cool their moms are married, it’s cool they invite him for dinner. I mean…sure, yes, of course…I mean, why not? Sure. In a comedy with some deeper colors, the film is an affirmation of–family values.
10. The Ghost Writer: In Roman Polanski’s best film in years, a man without a past rattles around in the life of a man with too much of one. A ghost writer (Ewan McGregor) is hired to write the autobiography of a former British Prime Minister so inspired by Tony Blair that he might as well be wearing a name tag. He comes to stay at an isolated country house like those in the Agatha Christie mysteries, in which everyone is a potential suspect. His wife Ruth (Olivia Williams), smart and bitter, met Lang at Cambridge. His assistant Amelia (Kim Cattrall), smart and devious, is having an affair with him. The writer comes across information that suggests much of what he sees is a lie, and his life may be in danger.
This movie is the work of a man who knows how to direct a thriller. Smooth, calm, confident, it builds suspense instead of depending on shock and action. The actors create characters who suggest intriguing secrets. The atmosphere — a rain-swept Martha’s Vineyard in winter — has an ominous, gray chill, and the main interior looks just as cold. The key performances are measured for effect, not ramped up for effect. In an age of dumbed-down thrillers, this one evokes a classic tradition.