20

The House of the Devil
Ti West

Finally. An entertaining scary movie. Genre savant Ti West takes the formula of the haunted house film, and fine tunes it to scare us in that old-fashioned way we long to be scared. College sophomore Sam’s simple babysitting job for an elderly couple (The Ulmans) turns into a steadily, disorienting and nightmarish discovery of the couple’s secrets. The film’s title is a bit of a giveaway. The actor playing Mr. Ulman, the gaunt, tall, Tom Noonan, is extraordinary in this part, eerily unsettling as he is in his quiet calm. Part of the success of The House of the Devil, is that Ti West revels in simplicity, creating a mood of terror by the squeaking floorboards, the turning on of a light switch and the dread of a darkened staircase. Farisa Khalid

19

Sin Nombre
Cary Joji Fukunaga

There’s nothing fancy about Sin Nombre, Cary Fukunaga’s feature debut about Latin American immigrants seeking a better life in the U.S. However, he tells this familiar story with a freshness and sincerity which is disarming even when the fates of Honduran teenager Sayra (Paulina Gaitan) and Mexican gang initiate Casper (Edgar Flores) can seem a little too cleverly intertwined. Fukunaga wrote the script as well as directing this much-honored film and researched his material by hopping trains in Central America, an experience reflected in the film’s understated, documentary-style realism and in its respect for the characters and their choices. Sarah Boslaugh

18

Trick ‘r’ Treat
Michael Dougherty

Michael Dougherty’s Halloween movie is sort of a throwback to the anthology horror flicks of the ‘80s. It tells five separate stories over the course of one Halloween night in a small Ohio town. Like those ‘80s movies (Creepshow, Catseye, Twilight Zone: The Movie), Dougherty relies more on story and atmosphere than gore, although Trick ‘r Treat is firmly in “R” territory. Unlike its inspirations, though, the stories in this movie cross through each other and interconnect in a myriad of interesting ways. It’s all tied together with Sam, a child-sized villain whose head is covered in a burlap sack and who shows up to varying degrees in each segment. With a strong cast including Brian Cox, Anna Paquin, Dylan Baker, and Tahmoh Penikett, the film has a higher pedigree than a lot of horror movies. This makes it all the more depressing that Warner Bros. couldn’t find a way to market the movie, skipping a theatrical release entirely (save for individual screenings and film festivals) and unceremoniously dumping it directly to DVD. Chris Conaton

17

Lemon Tree
Eran Riklis

The performance of Hiam Abbass as the Palestinian widow Salma Zidane is reason enough to see Lemon Tree, an allegorical film based on a true story, but there’s much more which makes this film worth your time. Director Eran Riklis captures many of the complexities of life in the West Bank and although his reach sometimes exceeds his grasp—when an Israeli minister moves next door to Salma and her lemon grove, you don’t have to be a genius to know that the trees are going down—he still offers an intriguing look at the consequences of unchecked power for those who have it as well as for those who do not. Sarah Boslaugh

16

Before Tomorrow
Marie-Hélène Cousineau & Madeline Piujuq Ivalu

Following his iconic Atanarjuat and its less-praised follow-up The Journals of Knud Rasmussen, Inuit filmmaker Zacharias Kunuk steps back to a producing role for the third entry in this unique trilogy about his indigenous culture. Before Tomorrow is a filmic meditation on the decline of traditional Inuit culture in the wake of European contact. The story of an old woman (the remarkable Madeline Ivalu, who also co-directs with Marie-Helene Cousineau) and her grandson stranded alone in a cave after European disease kills off their small community, the all-Inuit production visualizes the isolation of its two main characters as set against the sad but beautiful desolation of the frozen North. Lingering on long shots of Ivalu extinguishing her seal-fat lamp, Before Tomorrow is an unforgettable elegy, both for a way of life that has likewise been extinguished as well as for the Inuit who struggle to ensure their culture’s survival. Ross Langager

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15

Of Time and the City
Terence Davies

Documentaries don’t come more personal than Of Time and the City, Terence Davies’ evocative memory piece about his childhood in Liverpool. Constructed primarily from newsreel footage, archival photos and well-chosen musical and poetic excerpts, the film is held together by Davies’ voiceover narration which both condemns and celebrates the world of his childhood. Yes there were endless hours wasted in prayer, absurd veneration of the monarchy (he refers to Queen Elizabeth’s coronation as “The Betty Windsor Show”) but these were counterbalanced by hours spent in the cinema “gorging myself with a frequency which would shame a sinner.” Sarah Boslaugh

14

Broken Embraces
Pedro Almodóvar

Gorgeous, hypnotic, and unsettling. A movie about a erotic obsession along the lines of Vertigo. Together Almodóvar and Penelope Cruz have made some of greatest, most intoxicating films to come out of Spain: Live Flesh, All About My Mother, Volver, and now this magnum opus. The elegant Luis Holmar (he played Natalie Portman’s father in Goya’s Ghosts) is the blind former film director Harry Caine. Trying to come to grips with his blindness, he remembers his last great film and his affair with his producer’s mistress (Cruz). The affair, like in all potboiling melodramas, lead to devastating consequences, but how Almodóvar reveals the story, through both the seductive, saturated colors of old Hollywood films and the grainy, bleak gaze of a hand-held camera, plays into our voyeuristic fantasies of love and the movies. Farisa Khalid

13

Red Cliff
John Woo

After more than a decade of largely mediocre Hollywood movies, director John Woo returned to his native China to create the historical action epic Red Cliff. It turns out you can go home again, because Red Cliff is a film that recalls the verve and excitement of classic Woo movies like The Killer and Hard-Boiled. And yet, with no guns at his disposal, the story forces Woo to find new ways to present the action. Red Cliff is concerned with the strategies of the opposing armies as much as the battles themselves, which makes the audience aware of the tactics as they happen. This allows us to know what’s going on even as massive action sequences fill the screen. Woo strikes a tone that is grittier and less fantastic than other recent Chinese “wuxia” films like House of Flying Daggers and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and this makes Red Cliff stand apart. With crackerjack performances from reliable Asian stars Takeshi Kaneshiro and Tony Leung, the film works as both a dramatic story and an action spectacle. Originally split into two movies of over two hours apiece, the truncated two-and-a-half hour North American cut is still worth watching on the big screen if you get the chance. Chris Conaton

12

Bright Star
Jane Campion

Ben Whishaw and Abbie Cornish are affecting as the young John Keats and Fanny Brawne, so enamored of each other, but held at a distance because of Victorian convention and mores. Their courtship is reminiscent of some of Keats’ finest verse—the agonizing anticipation of lovers on the brink of consummation, but somehow kept apart. Jane Campion’s has a canny ability to capture the suppressed passion of lovers in the late 19th century (as she did in The Piano). Farisa Khalid

11

Moon
Duncan Jones

Moon was arguably 2009’s most overlooked film, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and delivering a small but intensely atmospheric sci-fi picture with resourceful use of its $5 million budget. Sam Rockwell gives a tour de force performance as the solitary and neurotic Sam Bell, while director Duncan Jones (son of David Bowie) jumps outside his father’s shadow with a breakthrough feature film that suggests a very bright future ahead of him. With themes of alienation, corporate accountability, and individual rights, Moon is exactly the type of film sci-fi aficionados can appreciate, as it outclasses, outpaces, and outshines the usual space epics that put emphasis on special effects rather than an engrossing narrative. It’s just a shame that both the film and Rockwell’s prodigious performance have been underappreciated by critics and audiences, but don’t be surprised if this claustrophobic mind-blower becomes a cult classic in the upcoming years. Cyrus Fard

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10

Afghan Star
Havana Marking

In a particularly rich year for nonfiction film, Havana Marking’s powerful Afghan Star stood out for a number of reasons. The documentary refused (unlike so many of its well-meaning brethren) to patronize in any way its subjects, the contestants in an American Idol-type music competition reality show broadcast from Kabul. Also, in a media environment where Afghanistan is only allowed to make the news when something explodes, the film stands out by showcasing people who aren’t interested in sectarian conflict or vendettas; they just want to rally support for their favorite singer. Given that one of the show’s finalists is ultimately subjected to death threats for having the temerity to dance unveiled while singing, a texted vote for a reality-show performer becomes something much more potent and brave. Chris Barsanti

9

Flame & Citron
Ole Christian Madsen

War is a dirty business and seldom has that fact been more clearly portrayed on screen than in Ole Christian Madsen’s Flame and Citron based on the true story of two Danish resistance fighters during World War II. Flame (Thure Lindhardt) and Citron (Mads Mikkelsen) risk their lives daily while executing Danish Nazi collaborators so they could be presented as uncomplicated heroes serving the most righteous of causes. But that wouldn’t be half so interesting as Madsen’s noirish approach which displays their imperfections as well as their courage while also letting us experience some of the ambiguities they faced in an occupied country where it was not always clear who to trust and who to kill. Sarah Boslaugh

8

Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea
Hayao Miyazaki

Ponyo is gorgeous, the lost art of hand drawn animation accelerated through a whirlwind vision of ecology trumped by man’s careless need for comfort. It’s a sly bit of preaching, letting images evoke the kind of emotional reactions that scientific hypotheses and philosophical rants typically produce. By using Hans Christian Anderson’s Little Mermaid as an obvious jumping off point, and instilling the narrative with a grandeur for all things ancient and mythic, director Miyazaki reconfigures folklore for those who might not see the otherwise hidden agenda. By focusing on Ponyo’s desire to be human, by showing how that “selfish” act affects the entire ocean population, the movie mirrors the currently contemporary mindset. No matter how precious we think our environment is, we seem willing to undermine it for our own personal aims. Bill Gibron

7

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

Werner Herzog

In a year filled with audacity (Antichrist, Inglourious Basterds), nothing is cheekier and as out and out ballsy as The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call - New Orleans. This is creativity as confrontation, expectations challenged and then shattered by one of the last true artists left in the field of filmmaking. Sure, it all seems funny and insincere, a joke on the audience where everyone in the cast and crew is bastardizing their own insular take on the material for the sake of a grander illusion. But dismissing the movie in that way underestimates Herzog’s power as a provocateur. He is not out to serve some commercial conceit, or waste his time playing around with some actors and a camera. This is serious business to him, and at its core, Bad Lieutenant is a serious film. And a great one.  Bill Gibron

6

The Hurt Locker
Kathryn Bigelow

The Hurt Locker is a compulsively watchable, spellbinding war film by Kathryn Bigelow and screenwriter, Mark Boal, who penned the brilliant In the Valley of Elah and worked with a bomb squad in Iraq. The tension and the suspense of the film revolve around the psychological battle that goes on between insurgent bomb makers and the young staff sargeant who defuses those bombs. In the role of Staff Sgt. William James, Jeremy Renner, has an amazing degree of raw authenticity—as if James was a kid from the country who developed his focus on video games, who enlisted because of an instinctive need to make his parents proud and to be useful, and who somehow derives an unparalleled thrill, or rush of excitement, from putting himself in harm’s way, and surviving. Fittingly, the opening titles of the film, begin with the statement, “War is a drug.” Farisa Khalid

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5

(500) Days of Summer
Marc Webb

If there is one genre that is always desperate for some new life, it’s the romantic comedy. Directed by music video maestro Marc Webb, (500) Days of Summer is just what the doctor ordered—a smart and contemporary love story (or is it?) with a nonlinear plot and a superb soundtrack consisting of acts like Pixies and Doves. Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel earn their title as America’s brightest young talent in their lead performances, owning their characters and evoking empathy in ways that few Hollywood romantic comedies can pull off. With intuitive editing and a script that hits at all the right spots, this indie sleeper hit’s greatest charm is in its flawed, human touch. Effortlessly life-affirming, (500) Days of Summer gives us an American romantic tale that we can actually digest. Cyrus Fard

4

Anvil: The Story of Anvil
Sacha Gervasi

This documentary about an aging, largely forgotten heavy metal band attempting a European tour has drawn a lot of comparisons to the classic faux-documentary This is Spinal Tap. And those comparisons are warranted, as things on the tour often go awfully, hilariously wrong. But it’s not the humor that makes Anvil such a great film. It’s the affecting, loving portrait of two best friends (singer-guitarist Steve “Lips” Kudlow and drummer Robb Reiner), who have stuck to their guns and held onto their dreams through the years. Even though the music industry left them behind in the mid-‘80s as bands like Metallica and Anthrax were taking off, Anvil never stopped playing. Even as they approached middle age and had to find day jobs, they didn’t quit. The part of the story where Lips and Reiner reluctantly turn to family members to ask for money to finance their thirteenth album is one of those rare movie moments where it’s nearly impossible not to get swept up in the emotion. Chris Conaton

3

In the Loop
Armando Iannucci

Politics is still like high school—meaning that personal status is everyone’s chief concern—but the repartee is much snappier in Armando Iannucci’s darkly hilarious In the Loop. Oh, and there’s real stuff at stake like declaring war on a country which poses no immediate threat to either the US or the UK. Based on the 2005 BBC series The Thick of It the film portrays the flurry of activity on both sides of the Atlantic set off when a stumble-mouthed prime minister (Tom Hollander) inadvertently announces that “war is unforeseeable” during a routine interview. Peter Capaldi stars as a British press officer and reigning world champion of the personal insult (almost all of which are unprintable) while James Gandolfini contributes a memorable performance as a U.S. general who understands the true cost of war. Sarah Boslaugh

2

Summer Hours
Olivier Assayas

The grief that underlies writer-director Olivier Assayas’s lovely and poignant film Summer Hours works itself on you so quietly and insidiously, you may be surprised by how devastated you feel when the final credits roll. After their mother Hélène dies, three adult siblings vote to divide and sell her estate, which includes artistic treasures and a summer cottage that has been in the family for generations. Their decision is swift, democratic, logical—dictated by immediate concerns—but Assayas illustrates how it will have ramifications on the family for years to come. Hélène’s possessions hold the tethering power of memory, without which, as neuroscientist Eric Kandel has described, experience is “splintered into as many fragments as there are moments in life.” When a vase of Hélène’s winds up behind a glass case in the Musée d’Orsay, you viscerally understand why its absence of flowers always felt “like death to her.”  Marisa Carroll

1

The White Ribbon
Michael Haneke

In Michael Haneke’s masterpiece The White Ribbon, the director explores the shifting politics of a rural, religious hamlet that unravels from the inside during the period in German history right before World War I. Loneliness, cruelty, incest, love, evil, isolation and impending fascism are but a smattering of the heady topics given the Haneke treatment in this rich, epic black and white folkloric allegory that cuts to the bone and creates an uneasy atmosphere unlike any of the great Austrian director’s other works. Haneke spoke to me in November about the popular misconception that his films were overly-violent:

“In fact, there’s almost never any violence in my films depicted on screen. If you were to collate or bring together all of the violence in all of my films and put them end to end, you’d find that there is far less violence that’s depicted than in the most banal TV thriller that’s being broadcast. The only reason the violence is so powerful or appears so powerful is because it is not shown, it is not visible. I call on the spectator’s imagination to imagine what I’m alluding to, and the spectator’s imagination is far more powerful than anything you can provide for them. The viewer should think about what he or she is seeing.”—Michael Haneke to Matt Mazur, November 2009

Matt Mazur