The Films of 2008: My Favorites

Sorry this list is a little late, but New Year’s week was a bit hectic for me. (Jacob came into town; much merriment—and a touch of drama—ensued.)
Cloverfield—The first film I saw last year is still my favorite. Yes, it’s high concept, but more importantly it’s ferociously entertaining, using special effects sparingly and generating gargantuan amounts of suspense and terror. By depicting a monster movie scenario via shaky camera work and naturalistic performances, Cloverfield accomplishes the difficult feat of making its Godzilla-esque premise believable. Some criticized producer J.J. Abrams and co. for exploiting 9/11 imagery to unnerve their audience, but the best horror filmmakers have always used real fears to underlie fanciful stories.
Forgetting Sarah Marshall—Hands down, my favorite comedy of the year. Writer director Jason Segel established himself as a rising talent to watch with this hilarious and relatable film. All the pain of breakups is made as real as it is hysterical, as hapless Peter (Segel) tries to escape to Hawaii, only to run into ex Sarah (Kristen Bell, always perfection) and her vain new rock star beau (Russell Brand). Luckily, adorable and caring hotel clerk Rachel (Mila Kunis) is there for support—and maybe more. By now, we all know the raunchy/sweet, improvisational MO of the Judd Apatow gang movies (he produced this), but Forgetting Sarah Marshall distinguishes itself with strong storytelling and vivid characterizations that go just far enough to amuse without devolving into Cartoon Land.
Iron Man—If not for a Certain Acclaimed Blockbuster, this would easily be 2008’s best superhero film. As is, it’s a fantastic film that delivers the action goods without sacrificing story or character. Robert Downey, Jr. brought his career roaring to new heights as the funny, evolving Tony Stark, who has a traumatic experience in Afghanistan and decides to change from weapons magnate to advocate for peace. The scenes with Stark developing his super suit have the same sense of wonder and discovery that made Spider-man such a delight. Meanwhile, Gwyneth Paltrow imbues Stark’s long-suffering (and smitten) assistant Pepper Potts with enough depth and likability to remind us why she became a movie star in the first place.
Sex and the City—No, I’m not one of those gays who gathered around the television for each week’s installment of the HBO megahit. But I was game to see the big screen version with my friend Elon (a devoted fan) and was pleasantly surprised by just how good this movie is. Yes, it’s an entertaining and often witty romp filled with glitzy fashions. (This has to be the biggest ode to conspicuous consumption since The Devil Wears Prada pretended to condemn materialism while celebrating it in every frame.) But it’s also a surprisingly dark and affecting look at broken hearts and the enduring power of love and forgiveness. Besides, the cast’s lived-in chemistry with each other is an alluring entertainment in its own right.
The Strangers—The horror genre is in a weird place right now. We’ve got torture porn, a trend that mercifully seems to be on its way out (though I anticipate annual Saw sequels through 2015). We’ve got a seemingly endless stream of remakes, most of which are as bland as they are unnecessary. But here’s a movie that’s simple, stark, and incredibly effective. The best elements of Halloween—from the shadowy camerawork to the masked killers and spooky sound design—combine into a power house scare show that knocked this horror junkie off his feet. Liv Tyler’s vividly emotional performance as the victimized Kristen helps sell the harrowing this-could-happen-to-you-scenario. Why’d the killers pick them? “Because you were home.” That lack of rhyme or reason may be The Strangers’ biggest scare of all.
The Dark Knight—What can I say about this massively popular, tremendously lauded film that hasn’t already been said? That it’s deftly plotted? Politically relevant? Fabulously acted—especially by Heath Ledger as an indelibly vivid Joker? Said, said, and said. Aaron Eckhart probably hasn’t received enough attention for his complex and sympathetic portrayal of Harvey/Two Face, though, and I will say that the action sequences are killer—just because a movie is deep and dark doesn’t mean it can’t have bad-ass set pieces.
The Pineapple Express—Compared to the humanistic Forgetting Sarah Marshall, The Pineapple Express is business as usual for Judd Apatow: broad characters, wackiness, and a secondary plot. It’s a 21st century stoner movie with an action template: Dale (Seth Rogen) and his dealer Saul (James Franco), two sorta-buddies, are forced to go on the run after Dale inadvertently witnesses a murder. What elevates this farce beyond being merely entertaining is Franco’s outstanding performance (he inhabits this lovable flake in the deepest way possible) and that trademark dash of sweetness that balances out all the drug and sex jokes. By the end, Dale’s come to see Saul as more than the “loser” who supplies him his weed—he respects and cares for him as a friend. Altogether now: awww.
Milk—It took years of development and half a dozen false starts, but the wait was worth it for this biopic of legendary gay activist Harvey Milk. Sean Penn gives a bravura performance as the charismatic Milk, who overcame the odds to become America’s first openly gay man in office; the film tells the story of his years in San Francisco, where he became “the Mayor of Castro Street” and helped mobilize an entire generation to fight for gay rights before his tragic assassination by a disgruntled colleague. None of the criticisms that have been lodged at this film—that it’s built on biopic clichés and is occasionally preachy (both of which are more or less true)—have diminished my tremendous affection and respect for it. It’s a hopeful and inspiring tale, full of detail and brilliant acting—standouts in the latter category include Emile Hirsch as queer spitfire (and future AIDS Quilt creator) Cleve Jones and Josh Brolin as the conflicted and murderous Dan White. As Milk says in the movie, “You gotta give ‘em hope”—and that’s exactly what this beautifully rendered film does, at a time when the gay community (youth especially) needs it more than ever.

So good, it's scary

My mother hated the new movie The Strangers. She even tried to warn me not to see it, because she found the film so unbearable. "I kind of just wanted it to be over," she said, adding that seeing one of her favorite actresses (Liv Tyler) brutalized for two hours was not her idea of a good time. Of course, relentlessly scary movies are my idea of a good time, precisely because they work my emotions so expertly. While many modern horror flicks are laden with cheesy cliches or gratuitous gore, The Strangers is a stylish and unbelievably effective shocker. It's one of the best movies I've seen this year and certainly the scariest in recent memory. The set-up is simple. Tyler and Scott Speedman play Kristen and Jimmy, a young couple who return home after a party. They've just had a fight, and slowly we realize it stems from Jimmy's rejected marriage proposal. The writing and acting here are both terrific, deftly establishing both the characters and their unease. (Emotionally drained and a little drunk, neither is at all prepared to face the horrors that follow.) The two are startled by a loud knock at the door, and a mysterious woman (Gemma Ward) who says she's looking for "Tamara." The couple finds this odd, but quickly forget about it; Jimmy heads out to buy cigarettes while Kristen stays behind. Then the pounding at the door resumes, and as Kristen's suspicions mount, things go from bad to worse. By the time Jimmy returns, the pair are caught up in a desperate fight for survival. The Strangers compares favorably to John Carpenter's original Halloween, borrowing from that film several elements: the masked assailants; the shadowy camera work (which is incredibly suggestive and plays on our fears of what lurks in the dark); and the slow-burning tension. We never really see the stalkers' faces , and we never understand their motivation, either; the randomness of the brutality is all the more frightening for its lack of rhyme or reason. The Strangers takes its time, but once it gets going it plays out like a nightmare. Watching the film, I thought how strange it is that so many movies with similar plotlines lacked any real sense of jeopardy or doom. But in the hands of writer-director Bryan Bertino, the movie is unrelenting and brutal. Sure, there are plenty of "jump" moments; but they come as a result of superb set-up and attention to detail. In one nail-biting sequence, Kristen takes refuge in a closet (again, shades of Halloween) and watches in horror as one of the attackers prowls the house, seeking but not finding her. We are so caught up in the moment that we're rendered sitting ducks for anything the film throws at us, and the same goes for the entire movie. It should be noted that the sound design is a huge part of what makes the movie so frightening; from the jarring knocks at the door to the indistinct scraping and running sounds that bewilder the characters, The Strangers suggests even more terror with what we hear. (The film also benefits from several moody folk songs.) The performances of the two leads, particularly Tyler, are outstanding. Tyler is terrific as a normal woman pushed past the point of reason; she makes Kristen sympathetic and entirely convincing as a victim of unimaginable terror and violence. And while I won't spoil it, the movie boasts a terrific and evocative ending that lingers in the memory. The Strangers proves that you don't need excessive blood or elaborate plot mechanics to make a good horror movie-- just simple craftsmanship and a commitment to scaring the pants off your audience.