Les Misérables.

In addition to the inherent difficulties of filming a musical, any cinematic version of Les Misérables is unenviably tasked with meeting the lofty and unavoidable expectations of those familiar with the beloved Broadway show (that's me).

Cramped by the awkward limitations of a single camera, this version of Les Misérables limped through the first act. Even with grandiose sets, several songs and scenes felt restricted by the size of the screen, as opposed to the more open space of the stage. The musical also encountered the usual issue of showing both the scope and intimacy of duets and ensemble pieces. 

Once the showcase solos arrived, Les Misérables took off, beginning when Anne Hathaway killed I Dreamed a Dream (in a good way) in a brilliant single take that may win her an Oscar. Similar lengthy shots greatly enhanced several songs, also adding a Broadway feel to other highlights like On My Own and Empty Chairs. The much-publicized method of having the actors sing live on set worked perfectly, allowing emotional nuances to be added in the moment, rather than limit them to the vocal inflections recorded months earlier. 

Amidst an all-star cast, new faces Eddie Redmayne and Samantha Barks stood out as Marius and Eponine, with their stage pedigrees beaming through. Helena Bonham Carter and Sacha Baron Cohen were perfectly cast as the crass and crude Thenardiers, whose presence felt as slightly out-of-place as it did in the show. 

As Jean Valjean, Hugh Jackman didn't always have the ideal voice for the part. But his presence was always right, and he nailed several key moments, including his final scene. Another big star was needed to play opposite Jackman, but Russell Crowe was not the best choice for Javert. He can sing decently, and interpreting the justice-obsessed lawman with more of an earthy voice is reasonable. But Javert has already been defined by a classic baritone with two show-stopping solos. Crowe simply doesn't have the pipes to fill that role. Even those unfamiliar with the music, will instantly recognize his shortcomings relative to his cast mates. 

With all the powerful music and numerous characters, the film misses the pacing of the stage, which benefits from the built-in pauses and interludes that come from scene transitions and set changes, giving the songs and story room to breathe. The film somehow rushed through its 2:40 running time, though it didn't need to be longer. This was probably more of an issue for those trying to absorb the story and/or music for the first time. 

Bringing Les Misérables to the big screen was a crazy ambitious project, and the film was never going to meet theatrical expectations. But thanks to the potent music, this film is a commendable effort that isn't perfect but soars to splendid heights and should satisfy fans. 8 of 10. 

P.S. I'm not going to quibble with how the movie skips verses or adds lines or changes words (even a few favorites). Tweaks are necessary for translation to film, and most of them are effective, or at least understandable.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

A few brief thoughts on The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, which provided a welcome reprieve from Friday's tragedy...

As anticipated, The Hobbit was a wonderful return to Middle Earth, like revisiting a loved vacation spot to see old friends. Watching known characters like Gandalf and Frodo is a thrill; seeing the grassy comfort of the Shire generates smiles; hearing the musical themes of hobbits and elves induces happy chills. The film succeeds wildly on these nostalgic levels, as any well-made Hobbit movie would.

An Unexpected Journey is Bilbo-centric, focusing on Martin Freeman's superb young version of Ian Holm's Bilbo, as he joins a baker's dozen of dwarves in an intrepid attempt to reclaim their home. With adversaries ranging from trolls to wargs to self-doubt, their adventures are indeed grand. The visual effects are expectedly spectacular, and the action does not disappoint. The film's primary shortcoming is the lack of small moments that make the big moments worthwhile, like a great meal lacking adequate salt to fully draw out the flavor.

What seasoning there is stems from the film's most potent moments, which involve Bilbo's stellar quiet interactions with Gandalf, Gollum and the dwarves. As the story breathlessly races from one massive set piece to another, the minimal small scenes aren't enough to fully round out the film. Great adventure movies succeed not only because of the action but because of the characters. The emotional connection to the main characters here is diluted by the sheer volume of dwarves and the fact that their quest isn't as inherently compelling as destroying a world-threatening evil, nor is Bilbo's participation as easily understood.

This should change as the trilogy develops. For now, An Unexpected Journey felt very much like the first of three movies, providing an exciting ride and an enjoyable stage-setting first act that begs for more. Still a solid 8 of 10, with the potential to rise as the series progresses.

The Fighter.

As expected, The Fighter is a sports movie. The basic story is familiar to anyone who's seen a sports movie, and little is surprising along the way. All of which makes the superior nature of the film even more remarkable.

The Fighter succeeds because it does everything well, particularly the acting and the pacing. The performances are what make the movie, as the familiarity of the genre allows the actors to shine. The Fighter would have been good with lesser actors, but the strong leads and stellar supporting cast elevate the film to Oscar contender.

Christian Bale will justifiably win awards for his masterful portrayal of the drug-addicted former boxer Dicky Eklund. Amy Adams will rightfully earn plaudits for sassily playing against type as a hard-edged bartender turned determined muse. The supporting cast is pitch-perfect in their various quirky roles. Amidst all the characters, Mark Wahlberg is the glue of the film as the titular Micky Ward, who battles adversity both in and out of the ring. Several other roles are showier, and the part may not be a big stretch for the Boston-born tough guy, but Wahlberg holds the story together with his more-difficult-than-it-looks combination of fierceness and likability.

In a cinematic age with too many bloated films, The Fighter moves steadily along, avoiding the superfluous scenes that plague most movies. Yet director David O. Russell hits all the necessary notes flawlessly and still finds time for beautiful small moments, from a tender hand holding to the jotting of a number to a passionate celebratory kiss. These poignant instants put the finishing touches on a thoroughly enjoyable drama.

The Fighter is more than just a good sports movie. It's a great movie regardless of genre, featuring numerous outstanding performances. 9 of 10, which feels high, but I don't think anything could have been done better.

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe will always be the best Narnia story, because it's the original. But Voyage of the Dawn Treader has long been my favorite, due to a seamless blend of mysterious adventure and thought-provoking morality. With its episodic island-hopping, Dawn Treader always seemed the most cinematic book of the series, although I think it would make an even better single season of television.

Similar to the film version of Prince Caspian, Dawn Treader largely fails to capture the book's true spirit, which is the main element I ask for in an adaptation. By adding a singular theme of good and evil, the movie does drive forward more easily, but inserting the layer of intentionality ends up depriving the story of its wide-eyed adventure, particularly when the climax doesn't match the buildup. In trying to make Dawn Treader a more conventional tale, the filmmakers neutered too much of the narrative's soul.

Traces of the book's heart do shine through occasionally in small but thrilling moments involving Lucy's smiles, a dragon's tears, Reepicheep's valor and Aslan's words. Even filmmakers who don't truly understand the book can't screw up these remarkable moments, which make the movie worthwhile for Narnia lovers. Perhaps the best part was the credits, which featured colorized versions of the book's original drawings. Those were fantastic.

I suspect that those unfamiliar with the book will still enjoy the movie, perhaps even moreso. Dawn Treader isn't a bad watch. Frankly, it was about what I expected, though less than I hoped. 6 of 10.


One other side note...

I can usually understand why changes are made to source material, even extreme changes like those in Dawn Treader. I get that they wanted a more substantive antagonist. Fine. Reepicheep should have had darker fur...but maybe a lighter color looks better on film. Caspian should be blond...I guess he looked better as a brunette. I can even accept bigger things like Ray Liotta batting from the wrong side as Joe Jackson in Field of Dreams; he was the perfect actor for the part otherwise. Okay, I get it. What I'll never understand is why small things are changed. For example, in the book Eustace puts the bracelet on his left arm, not his right, as he does in the movie. In HP4, why is Hermione's dress pink instead of blue? Why can't filmmakers get simple facts correct? What legitimate reason could there possibly be for changing those things? Maybe it's just laziness or apathy, but that inattention to detail is too often a microcosm of what frequently separates movies like these from phenomena like The Lord of the Rings.

Inception.

Inception is yet another extremely well-made film by Christopher Nolan**. A fascinating idea executed perfectly by a strong ensemble of actors and a high-caliber technical crew.

The visual effects are very impressive and occasionally wow-inducing, so seamless and story-serving that they are almost overlooked. Avatar is a drastically different movie from Inception, but each uses visual effects perfectly, integrating them as part of the narrative rather than mere flashy eye candy.

Given the vibe of confusion emanating from Inception's buzz, I expected a labyrinthine story but was pleasantly surprised by its simplicity. The basic narrative structure is complex but fairly straightforward. It requires attention and thought but not to a painful degree, creating an excellent cinematic experience for those who want a dose of intellect with their entertainment. The production team deserves significant credit for that, as the various unique visuals made it easy to track the different arcs occurring simultaneously.

The film's primary shortcoming was the relatively weak emotional link. While most all the characters were likable, only one was fully three-dimensional, and his main emotional arc was more intriguing than engaging, interesting more as a plot device than for emotional reasons. Perhaps another viewing would enhance the emotional ties, which were overshadowed by the compelling main narrative. Inception was still a magnetic thriller despite that flaw, which speaks to how strong the mental and visual pulls were.

Inception may have been undone a bit by its own expectations. Despite reading little about it, but the positive buzz was unavoidable. I expected at least an 8 out of 10, so when I got exactly that, I wasn't underwhelmed; I was simply whelmed. Just like the United States soccer team, the movie met expectations so precisely that more seemed possible.

The best films execute inherently great emotional narratives in near-flawless fashion. Inception was a great story executed in that way but lacked power-infusing themes. 8/10 for the best film thus far this year (okay...it's actually the first 2010 movie I've seen in a theater).


**Can we discuss how ridiculously good Christopher Nolan is? Look at his six major films. Memento and The Dark Knight were two of the ten best films last decade. The Prestige and Batman Begins weren't far behind. Insomnia was well-made and decent, though a couple notches behind the other five, including Inception. That's an absurd career-opening run. He's the Albert Pujols of film directors.

Best Films of the 2000s: No. 3.

No. 3

Million Dollar Baby

Call this the Clint Eastwood representative in the Top Ten. If I expanded the list to 20, I might find room for four more of his films, but this is his best of the decade and thus the only one in the Top Ten.

I didn't know what to expect from Million Dollar Baby. At the time, I was just beginning to discover the greatness of Eastwood. I had loved the previous year's Mystic River, and I knew Baby had excellent reviews. But I still didn't know what I was in for.

Baby turned out to be the most enjoyable drama of the decade, filled with beautiful characters who are never perfect but always engaging. Eastwood is a flawless mix of tenderness and grumpiness as an aged boxing trainer and gym owner. Narrator Morgan Freeman plays the familiar role of wise and reliable friend. These two alone could have carried the movie; they are joy to watch, talking about anything from bleach to socks. As a young lady eager to learn boxing, Hilary Swank impressively meshes with these legends through her fierce determination. The story follows her boxing journey, and more importantly, the trio's various relationships, as they each deal with potent themes of loyalty, forgiveness, and love.

In the final act, Baby journeys to an unexpected moral marsh, one that could easily have overshadowed and swallowed up the preceding greatness. But Eastwood handles the situation delicately, and while a key decision may be overwhelmingly controversial on its own, it works within the film's context merely as a choice that was made.

Like much of Eastwood's directorial work, Baby possesses an elegant simplicity in every element from lighting to cinematography to music. The film plays like a visual symphony, with an engrossing assortment of crescendos and stillness. It's a ideal blend of character and story, guided confidently by the ever-steady hand of Clint Eastwood, who delivers yet another masterpiece.

Best Films of the 2000s
10. Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)
9. Memento (2000)
8. Traffic (2000)
7. The Incredibles (2004)
6. Ocean's Eleven (2001)
5. The Dark knight (2001)
4. Cast Away (2000)
3. Million Dollar Baby (2004)
2. Coming soon...

Best Films of the 2000s: No 4.

No. 4

Cast Away

I can hear Ben screaming already. Too bad, buddy. I love Cast Away in so many ways.

Cast Away is a story of survival, both physical and mental. It's the story of a busy man who must adapt to being stranded on an island, then re-adapt to society once he escapes.

I was annoyed the first time I saw Cast Away, annoyed that the trailers revealed that Tom Hanks gets off the island, annoyed that not enough time was spent on how he re-adjusted, and annoyed at the nebulous ending. But that was a case of not getting what I wanted from the movie rather than understanding and relishing what the film provided.

Upon a second viewing, I fell in love. I fell in love with the beautiful yet terrifying tropical island, with the roller coaster of emotion that Hanks rode, with his undulating determination. No other actor could have or would have attempted what Hanks did (though Will Smith did an admirable imitation in I Am Legend). Not only did Hanks lose 50 pounds for the role, he spent the entire middle half of the film as the only human on screen, co-starring with rocks, trees, and a volleyball. His was one of the best performances I have ever seen. The only reason Russell Crowe won the Oscar was the Academy's ridiculous unwillingness to give Hanks a third statuette.

The filmmakers ultimately made the right decisions in the final act, allowing Hanks to react with appropriate bewilderment at life's simplicities as he re-enters society. Yes, more such scenes would have worked, but I admit they weren't entirely necessary. Their absence allows for one of the most heart-rending scenes of the decade, as Hanks and his former fiancee Helen Hunt figure out what should happen next. The closing scene is a perfect denouement, an ideal reflection of Hanks' mental state.

Cast Away is filled with nearly as much physical and emotional beauty as anything in the 2000s. The film was riveting, impossible to take your eyes off, lest you miss a priceless moment, of which there are plenty. Perhaps the 2000s had a few other films that were better made (The Dark Knight), but I loved Cast Away more.

Best Films of the 2000s
10. Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)
9. Memento (2000)
8. Traffic (2000)
7. The Incredibles (2004)
6. Ocean's Eleven (2001)
5. The Dark knight (2001)
4. Cast Away
3. Coming soon...

Best Films of the 2000s: No. 5.

After creating one of the best origin stories ever with Batman Begins, director Christopher Nolan somehow raised the superhero movie to an entirely new level with The Dark Knight. He crafted a film that transcended the genre. It wasn't just a great comic book movie; it was a great film.

Heath Ledger's requiem performormance as the Joker gets all the accolades, and deservingly so. He embodies the villainous role is a possessive way rarely seen on screen, commanding attention with a breath-taking presence. But Christian Bale's titular character should not be overlooked, for he matches Ledger's intensity throughout. As they engage in a raging physical and emotional battle, each rises to meet the other, forming as great a pair of on-screen rivals as I've ever seen. A strong supporting cast adds significant depth, and the brilliantly dark art design holds everything together perfectly.

The Dark Knight is the Godfather of its kind, a sweeping epic that envelopes the viewer in an dramatic new world. As much psychological crime drama as superhero movie, the film is a vivid cinematic display of good versus evil, surpassing even its own mountain-high expectations.

Best Films of the 2000s
10. Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)
9. Memento (2000)
8. Traffic (2000)
7. The Incredibles (2004)
6. Ocean's Eleven (2001)
5. The Dark Knight
4. Coming soon...

Best Films of the 2000s: No. 6.

No. 6

Ocean's Eleven

This is the second movie in my Top Ten featuring Steven Soderburgh as director and cinematographer. Ocean's Eleven couldn't be much different than Traffic. Both are beautifully photographed, and the similarities end there.

Ocean's Eleven was pure fun, and no movie in the 2000s was more rewatchable. Clooney, Pitt, Roberts, and all the actors clearly enjoyed making the movie. More importantly, their experiences translate perfectly to the screen, propelling a story that crackles along at a pace that matches the twinkles in their eyes. The star-studded film is superficially a great heist movie, but is laced with sneaky humor, brilliant writing and beautiful underrated images that elevate the film beyond mere popcorn status.

I've seen Ocean's Eleven dozens of times, and nearly every time I notice something different. Perhaps a glance or a throwaway line, a subtle gesture or a breathtaking camera angle. Piling all of these layers on top of a good piece of entertainment makes for a great film that should be regarded as a classic.

Best Films of the 2000s
10. Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)
9. Memento (2000)
8. Traffic (2000)
7. The Incredibles (2004)
6. Ocean's Eleven (2001)
5. Coming soon...

Best Films of the 2000s: No. 7.

No. 7

The Incredibles

Call this the Pixar representative on the list, as both Wall-E and Finding Nemo were both strong candidates as well. But ultimately, Incredibles won me over the most with a deft combination of action and humor. It's a superhero movie with a Pixar twist, adding clever family dynamics to familiar comic-book action and characters.

The whole film takes known superhero stereotypes and churns them into into a delicious blend of characters that form the foundation of the movie's superb and often subtle comedy. Everyone knows about the practically impervious superhero (Mr. Incredible), but making him a married father of three turns convention on its head. Like Raiders of the Lost Ark, the entire film seems to be winking at the audience, simultaneously paying homage and parodying the superhero genre through all elements, ranging from a witty script containing terms like "monologing" to the wailing horns of the Bond-ian score. For fans of both comic-book movies and animated features (like me), this film hits all the right notes, clearly understanding and utilizing the possibilities of both genres to the fullest extent.

Like all Pixar films, The Incredibles entertains kids with its basic story, but its true achievement extends to all ages, as the film's youthful exuberance and wry sense of humor make it a classic.

Best Films of the 2000s
10. Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)
9. Memento (2000)
8. Traffic(2000)
7. The Incredibles (2004)
6. Coming soon...

Best Films of the 2000s: No. 8.

No. 8

Traffic

Traffic was the first "grown-up" movie I remember seeing in a theater. You know...one of those serious and dramatic Oscar-nominated films that teenagers never see. Well, I saw it because it had a good cast and an interesting trailer that promised multiple intertwined storylines.

I walked out wowed by the way that a film could balance three different storylines in a manner effective enough to produce gripping drama without much action. Doing that with one story is difficult, but each of Traffic's layers could easily have been its own movie. With their powers combined, they make ensuing films like Crash or Babel seem like mere wannabes.

Director/cinematographer Steven Soderburgh executed a clinic on how color palettes can play a supporting role, as each arc was imbued with a unique look that enhanced the narrative and functioned as a scene-setter. In telling these three frighteningly realistic stories, Soderburgh also expressed the multi-faceted bleakness that the illegal drug industry spawns at so many levels. Most impressively he did so without preaching or resorting to melodrama. Instead he simply told good, complex stories and told them exceptionally well.

Best Films of the 2000s
10. Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)
9. Memento (2000)
8. Traffic (2000)
7. Coming soon...

Best Films of the 2000s: No. 9.

No. 9

Memento

I wanted to re-watch Memento immediately after the credits finished, because it took the movie's entire running length to figure out exactly what is happening. When it ended, I wanted to see it again to be sure. The film's single story is edited non-linearly, cutting back and forth between two different portions that are moving in opposite direction. The narrative starts at the beginning and end, and the two arcs meet in the middle at the movie's end.

Because of the film's back-and-forth non-linear nature, some decry the film as little more than a gimmick. But this isn't just some twist at the end. The non-linear nature makes the film. You can't separate the method from the story. No one complains that Godfather II is only great because it bounces between two stories that are decades apart. The brilliant interlacing of narratives is part of what makes that film great, and the same thing applies in Memento.

The unusual story-telling works because of Guy Pearce's short-term amnesia. The viewer sees things as he does, largely unsure of what has previously happened. Pearce nails the part with his various tics and habits, and his mindset vacillates beautifully between certainty and uncertainty. He is an ideal conduit through which the audience can experience the movie.

I saw it twice in four days...during Finals Week. That's how intriguing the movie was. No other film this decade bent the mind like Memento. Period. It might even be better than a few movies ahead of it, but I didn't love it with my heart as much as my mind.

Best Films of the 2000s
10. Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban
9. Memento
8. Coming soon...

Best Films of the 2000s: No. 10.

Taking a look back at the last decade of movies is an extremely enjoyable yet difficult task. To me, the list is far more than merely ordering the best films from each of the last ten years. For better and worse, the passing of time makes this list more objective, eliminating some of the in-the-moment passion, but also more subjective, as personal connections elevate great movies past others that lacked a connection. Rewatchability is also a factor, making certain films more powerful, memorable and enjoyable. Ultimately, the list emerges from a confluence of the best films and my favorite films.

Before getting to the Top Ten of the 2000s, here are a few movies that won’t be included, because they were released in the 1990s: Saving Private Ryan, The Sixth Sense, The Matrix. I would love to work them into a Best of the Decade list, but their time has passed. I feel old.

Now, on with the show...

No. 10

Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban

I still remember the thrilling moment early in Azkaban when I realized that director Alfonso Cuaron wasn't following in Chris Columbus' footsteps by merely telling the book's story with moving pictures. He was making a film, a clinic on how to adapt books to the screen. Take a good story and infuse it with cinematic flair. Use lush visuals, camera movements that breathtakingly sweep through the epic landscape of Hogwarts, vivid transitions that could almost be short films, and heartfelt moments that provide a massive yet concise narrative with a viable and visual soul. This was far more that just the best Harry Potter movie. It was a great film.

Up in the Air: a brief commentary.

This isn't a review as much as a commentary on Up in the Air, which addresses the classic dichotomous ideals of the American male.

The self-sufficient, independent male is an archetype that has reigned in cinema through stars ranging from Bogart to Wayne to Eastwood, and now to George Clooney, who has previously embodied versions of that persona in numerous movies including Out of Sight and Michael Clayton. He reprises elements of those roles in role in Up in the Air*, as his Ryan Bingham can live on the road 320 days a year, eschewing his spartan one-bedroom apartment for a cavalcade of keycards. There's an allure to this lifestyle. Isolation would be an easy and enjoyable choice, void of much of the world's pain and suffering.

*This familiarity doesn't mean that his performance isn't noteworthy. I would argue that it makes his turn all the more impressive, as he uses subtle facial expressions to brilliantly express emotions in ways beyond the capacity of mere words.

Isolation might be easier, and such a persona may be ideal in theory. But that doesn't mean it's better, and like Communism, it doesn't usually work in practice. Up in the Air explores this, as Bingham churns through the inevitable sequence of attitude-adjusting events. He eventually realizes that to some extent, everyone needs someone. If even the callous scribes of Hollywood admit this, musn't it be true?

Like the countless movies with this formula, Up in the Air doesn't necessarily have a life-altering happy ending, but the film also features introspective realizations that life is more than just oneself.

Maybe that's the ultimate lesson. The lasseiz-faire attitude is an idealistic veneer, one that can even be functional for a while and might be necessary at times. But in the end, a man needs more than himself. He needs others. He needs God.

Avatar. Wow.

At their best, movies are an escape, an opportunity to experience times and places disparate from one's own life. These adventures can take the audience to a nearby country, or maybe a different era, or even just plant them among a different class of people. Plenty of classics like The Godfather and Casablanca excel by atmospherically yanking the viewer into a world not wholly unfamiliar at the time, then adding a resonant story involving grand and powerful themes.

Good fantasy movies have an inherent ability to enrapture like nothing else, because they create entirely new worlds often set in entirely different times, novelties that are best understood and experienced by fulling giving oneself to the story. Plenty of fantasy movies have failed miserably, and all the money in the world doesn't guarantee that the effects and images will enthrall audiences (The Phantom Menace). When done well however, fantasy is not only for geeks, but for any open-minded person willing to spend a couple hours in a new place. In Avatar, that new place is Pandora, a distant Earth-like moon where humans involved with both science and the military are attempting to learn more about its unique inhabitants and possibilities.

Director/producer James Cameron escalates the built-in fantasy advantage by adding the element of 3-D, which has been used in many movies, but rarely with much success. My goodness, does Cameron ever know how to use 3-D. From the opening shot, one realizes that this is no ordinary film. As the movie continues, the camera maneuvers deftly around rooms, rustles through the brush, floats amidst the trees, and soars between mountains. When used well, good camera movement adds a strong dynamic to traditional shots. Cameron goes beyond that, presenting breath-taking new angles with enhanced perspectives that reach out and envelope the viewer in stunning fashion. There's probably something about wearing 3-D glasses that subconsciously adds to the experience as well. I have never felt as physically connected with a movie.

Words can scarcely describe how enrapturing the visuals are. Their power cannot be overstated. I spent half the movie gasping, wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the countless Did-You-See-That! moments. For most of the drive home, I was shaking my head, in awe of the entirely new world on the planet Pandora. It was like watching the documentary series Planet Earth, but in three dimensions and (believe it or not) with better imagery. Movies often trumpet that they are unlike anything you've ever seen, but Avatar can justifiably say precisely that.

I can count my transcendent cinematic experiences on one hand. By transcendent experience, I mean more than just a great movie. I mean an engrossing movie that thrills the senses. Something so atmospheric that it seems to engage more than merely eyes and ears. Avatar joins the list, as its three dimensions create an almost tactile experience amidst the beautiful flora and fauna of Pandora. Perhaps the greatest compliment is this: the political and environmental subtext is fairly obvious and potentially irksome, but I was so immersed in the spectacular world that I didn't care. That's how I knew Avatar had me.

Overshadowed by the remarkable look and feel of the film is the less groundbreaking story. In one sense, calling it a weakness is an overstatement, because the narrative does its job. It provides a framework to supports the stunning visuals, by tweaking familiar arcs enough to keep them fresh. On the other hand, the story is laced with great themes of love and sacrifice, but lacks the powerful ancillary ideas that might have pushed the film to a more exclusive stratosphere. If the unprecedented visuals were buttressed by a better story, Avatar might have been on an extremely short list of all-time greats. Or perhaps such a potent narrative mind have distracted from the eye-popping pictures. Either way, a week after seeing the film, the unforgettable world lingers and resonates far more than the story.

Bottom Line: I've seen better movies in my life, but I've never had a better cinematic experience than Avatar in IMAX 3-D. 9.5 out of 10.

(500) Days of Summer.

(500) Days of Summer is not a typical indie romantic comedy. As the poster accurately states, this is not a love story, it's a story about love, which makes for a unique movie experience, through both content and manner of storytelling.

The movie traces 500 days of the relationship between Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) and Summer (Zooey Deschanel), but does so in an nontraditional way, bouncing from point-to-point in their romance by use of a scene-opening counter, which displays the day and stage of the relationship. The non-linear method of storytelling is a tool that provides the movie with a layer of poignancy absent from most romantic comedies.

The movie effectively captures the various moments of life and love: the highs, the lows, and the in-betweens. By leaping back-and-forth through time, these snapshots are uniquely juxtaposed in a way that keeps your emotions on a yo-yo, yanking you back to a happy moment when things look bleak, and reminding you of what is and could be ahead when all seems perfect. This shunning of the usual smooth story arc is disorienting initially, as you try to mentally collect and sort the pieces you have seen. But you soon relax, realizing that the flow of events is self-explanatory enough that the precise order is not necessary.

Given the unusual nature of events, which provide the movie with a slight fairy tale feel, a few other filmmaking twists are also used effectively. The movie occasionally breaks from reality, sticking in a song-and-dance number to joyously show the excitement of new love, and a brilliant use of split-screen that simultaneously shows expectations and reality much better than any after-the-fact dialogue could have done. In a straightforward movie, these techniques would have been jarringly out of place, but since the primary method of storytelling is already off the wall, these even zanier choices feel no more unusual, adding to the freshness of the tale.

The movie is much more than cinematic gimmickry, due to the likability of the two lead actors. Gordon-Levitt continues to grow wonderfully as an actor, bringing to the role a youthful maturity often missing in similar films. Deschanel is excellent as always, with her wide-eyed quirkiness that perfectly fits Summer's perspective on love. The two have the precise amount of chemistry for the relationship, nailing the distance or lack thereof at every point along the way, and their infectious exuberance keeps the viewer interested throughout.

(500) Days of Summer is in no ways a typical movie, either in story or method. In this way, it accurately and beautifully mirrors the roller coasters of life and love. Life is not perfect. A love story doesn't always unfold in three acts. Everybody doesn't necessarily live happily ever after. That does not mean imperfect experiences are not worthwhile. The ability to reflect and learn from the past is part of what makes us human, and this film is a first-class exhibit of that aspect of humanity.

Bottom Line: A refreshingly creative change-of-pace that accurately reflects the tumultuous vagaries of life and love. 8/10.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

When I see and review movies that are adapted from books I've read, I try not to get wrapped up in the similarities and differences, because I think doing so can ruin the cinematic experience by distracting from the movie, which often must tweak the story to translate it to the big screen. Having said that, this review is a bit of an exception, because many of the weaknesses of the movie are precisely the strengths of the book. That may not be entirely fair to the movie, but so be it...

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (HPHBP) is the story of Year Six at Hogwarts, where our trio of heroes returns to school as a strengthening Lord Voldemort and his army of Death Eaters begin to wreak havoc on both the wizarding and Muggle worlds.

Getting right to the point, the movie's primary problem is that nothing drives the story. The book is propelled by three main questions: What is Draco up to? Who is this Half-Blood Prince whose book Harry possesses? Why is Dumbledore showing Harry the various memories? These three interwoven storylines, combined with a side of romance, effortlessly carry the book through its 700+ pages, sprinting to the finish in an absurdly entertaining final five chapters. But the movie mishandles these three major questions and fails to carry much of this palpable drama to the screen.

In the movie, the answer to the first question is made apparent to the viewer early in the movie. The main characters don't learn the answer, but the audience does, an odd cinematic choice that deprives the narrative of its usual protagonist-based power. The second question is a continuing arc that is given short shrift throughout, to the extent that when the riddle is answered in the final moments, it's merely an "Oh."-inducing throwaway line rather than a "Wow!"-inducing culmination of 2+ hours of mystery. The final question does move the movie along somewhat, but the numerous omitted memories rob Voldemort of his explanatory traits, as well as Dumbledore of his motives. Voldemort thus feels like a typical two-dimensional villain rather than the vortex of evil he ought to be, and Dumbledore seems to be more of an uncertain guide instead of a presciently powerful wizard. As for the romance angle, those scenes are executed well enough, including a few poignant teen moments, but neither one of the potential pairings seems fully fleshed out. They don't necessarily feel wrong, but they do feel inadequately supported.

On the bright side, the highlight of the HPHBP is undoubtedly its not-so-bright look. With its washed-out appearance that borders on black-and-white at times, this colder version of Hogwarts is an appropriately stark contrast to the warm and cheery home portrayed in the first two films. But aside from the look, which accurately expresses what the tone ought to be, given the lurking evil, the tone itself doesn't match.

The best part of Order of the Phoenix was the way that director David Yates captured the spirit of the book, effectively displaying the magical and dangerous wizarding world yet also taking time to show smaller moments of laughter and friendship, which were to be treasured as the dark times approached. Yates is not nearly as effective in HPHBP. The vivacity is largely absent, and while some of that is understandable due to the nature of the events, it's still a world of magic. Too often the movie seems to forget that. I will say that the cave scene in the final act is quite magical and quite good, though still a bit rushed. Finally at that point the movie seems to have a purpose, even if it isn't entirely clear what that purpose is.

Without the aforementioned compelling story arcs or the brisk pace of OOTP, the film meanders throughout, running in place for two and a half hours and failing to build momentum as the narrative leaps between arcs, as though not sure where to go while killing time until the climactic final movies. Despite this, the 150 minutes rarely seem to drag, which speaks to the potency of the source material and the attachment that book readers have to the characters.

In the end, the movie's focus is shallow and wide, rather than deep and narrow, leaving the entire work feeling weak, like there wasn't enough of everything. The danger never felt real enough. Dumbledore wasn't confident or wise enough. Harry wasn't eager enough to figure out where Dumbledore was leading him. And a certain late scene, which is the most jaw-dropping in the entire seven-book series, is shockingly underplayed. The result is an experience that satisfies marginally, leaving this Potter fan disappointingly underwhelmed.

(Though I haven't spoken to anyone who has seen the movie without reading the book, I suspect that those people would enjoy the movie less, not entirely understanding many parts and being confused by multiple short scenes that seem included merely to satisfy fans.)

Bottom Line: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is the penultimate book, with a superb story that aggressively drives toward the inevitable showdown between good and evil. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is also the antepenultimate movie, with a weakened story that gradually wanders toward a lukewarm conclusion. 6 of 10, only that high because I already had the true power of the story ingrained in my head.

P.S. I'm slightly terrified that David Yates is also directing the last two movies. I hope he doesn't ruin them.

P.P.S. Why wasn't Felix Felicis gold in color? I don't understand why moviemakers screw up simple-yet-obvious things like that.

Indiana Jones and the...huh?!?

Less free time means fewer movies seen and shorter reviews, but I finally saw Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, and I wasn't missing much.

Given the pedigree and talent of the cast and crew, along with the massive familiarity of the audience with the series, making an awful Indiana Jones movie would be difficult. But Steven Spielberg and company nearly accomplish the task, relying solely on past magic to carry the picture.

The first hour of the movie is decent, with the introduction of a couple marginally interesting characters, played well enough by Cate Blanchett and Shia LeBeouf, and the usual series of globe-trotting adventures. But as a microcosm of the entire movie's problems (aliens?), the centerpiece action sequence starts well before taking a couple bizarrely ill-fitting turns (monkeys?!?) that overshadow the little quality that is present in the movie.

The primary thing that makes the movie worth watching is the familiarity with the title character, and the ease with which Harrison Ford returns to the role. Indiana Jones is an all-time great cinematic character, and Ford nails the part again. Even at his age, he is a joy to watch in this flick.

If the last act of this movie were in a Indy-knockoff like National Treasure or Tomb Raider, it would have been laughed out of the theater. In this setting, it doesn't fit either, but the established familiarity grants the movie enough leeway to make it worth a rental.

Bottom Line: 2 of 5 for quality, 3 of 5 for enjoyability. 5 of 10 for a mediocre move that lives on past accomplishments.

Paul Newman, 1925-2008.

Not to be overlooked amidst all the election and bailout coverage, Paul Newman passed away this weekend. In my mind, he was the 2nd-most iconic actor of his generation, trailing only Clint Eastwood, despite the fact that I've only seen five of Newman's two dozen or so films, and only three from his prime. That alone speaks volumes about his cinematic presence and abilities. In addition to The Sting (an underrated Best Picture winner, if that's possible) and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (one of the first and best buddy flicks), the other classic Newman movie I have seen is The Hustler, the best parts of which still resonate with me three years later. Here's my original review...

The Hustler is a classic 1961 film about the shady pool halls of the post-WWII era. Anyone of the three main characters could fill the titular role, whether it be Paul Newman's up-and-comer, Jackie Gleason's man-to-beat, or George C. Scott's behind-the-scenes angle-shooter.

These three stars (all-Oscar nominated) carry the picture, both individually and collectively. The thirty-ish Newman is simply a revelation to anyone (me) who hasn't seen him act much in his prime. He perfectly captures the smooth, in control but on the edge persona of Fast Eddie, who has the physical tools, but not necessarily the mental skills to be a champion. Gleason likewise perfectly fills the body and clothes of Minnesota Fats, with a graceful elegance uncommon to a man of his size. Scott (who declined his Oscar nomination) could easily have been overshadowed in his role, but his subtle and shifty eyes and movements create a character that occasionally outshines his two huge co-stars.

The Hustler reaches its zeniths when at least two of these men are on the screen. The dialogue exchanges of Newman and Scott as they feel each other out crackle with intensity. Gleason and Scott ooze wary respect for each other; and Newman and Gleason combine admiration and competitiveness into one neat package from which the entire film derives its energy.

A film about pool sharks seems to demand brilliant representation of its colorful world. But French cinematographer Eugene Shuftan instead opts for black-and-white, which surprisingly works wonderfully. His Oscar-winning imagery particularly excels in displaying light and shadows, such as the sun streaming into smoke-filled billiards halls. Shuftan accomplishes an exceptional feat, using a monotone style to effectively paint vivid pictures.

Despite high achievement in so many areas, The Hustler suffers from Doughnut Syndrome: there's a hole in the middle. The pool scenes that bracket the story are very good, and one middle scene between Newman and Scott is the best of the film, but the romantic portion of the story flounders. The drifter Newman falls for a fellow drifter (Piper Laurie) for no apparent reason, other than alcohol and the fact that they're both alone. To their credit, they do acknowledge that their relationship is flimsy and depraved, but the movie squanders too much times on this wafer-thin story arc, rather than stick with what works.

Those parts succeed wildly, about as enjoyable as any scenes ever shot, but without adequate buttressing material, the film as a whole falls short of the high watermark left by its parts.

Bottom Line: Phenomenal at times, but subpar at others, the male performances carry the film. Seven of ten, but definitely worth viewing if you haven't seen it yet.

Edit: In my memory, I'd bump this up a notch, because parts were off-the-charts good. But I don't recall the weaker portions, which means they were probably as mediocre as I originally thought.

The Dark Knight

The Dark Knight has received near-universal praise from critics and fans alike. Its Rotten Tomatoes rating is well over 90%. It currently hold the #1 spot on IMDb's Top 250. Amidst the massive praise, I'm here to tell you...that everyone is right, even if they don't know why.

The Dark Knight picks up not long after Batman Begins ended, with Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne living in high society by day and his Batman fighting crime at night. The Gotham City public is still unsure of Batman's intentions, considering him equal parts threat and savior. Into this gray area shoots The Joker, the best screen incarnation of evil I have ever seen.

The late Heath Ledger turns in a performance worth of all accolades he has received, completely disappearing into the twisted role. The makeup aids in the transformation, but more impressive is Ledger's intentional body language, which is utterly creepy in its remarkable precision. The Joker is not the extravagantly villainous psychopath most often seen in comic book movies. Instead he is the worst sort of enemy, measured and deliberate, every bit the equal of any superhero. Alfred sums up what makes Joker unique, pointing out that he has no defined agenda, but "just wants to watch the world burn." Chaos is Joker's goal, making him the best film equivalent of the Devil that I have ever seen. Ledger's death undeniably overlays his jaw-dropping performance with an layer of requiem that evokes an inimitable combination of ache and awe, but regardless of the real-life influences, he owns the role and the screen every second he is seen.

In addition to Ledger, the other not-to-be-overlooked actors are far better than the latest young stars often crammed into comic book movies. Bale's fierce intensity matches Ledger's show-stopping performance with a range of emotions so effective that his turn will likely be underappreciated. Maggie Gyllenhaal is a brilliant choice as Rachel Dawes, displaying more acting chops in her first thirty seconds on screen than Katie Holmes did in two hours of the prequel. What Gyllenhaal may lack in traditional beauty she more than makes up for with her carriage and attitude. As the never-quite-trustworthy district attorney Harvey Dent, Aaron Eckhart brings the precise amount of slickness, leaving the viewer riding shotgun with Batman, appropriately unsure of Dent's motive and actions. Add in Gary Oldman and Michael Caine, who are both again perfect in their roles as the world-weary cop and the eye-twinkling butler, and the result is a cast perfect for this brooding drama.

Some have labeled this the best comic book movie ever. I will call it the best such comic book adaptation (perhaps not movie), but TDK transcends superhero flicks, morphing into a massive crime drama that is more Heat than Spider-man. TDK elevates the genre with masterful filmmaking and acting. The story is an impressively choreographed roller coaster that scarcely relents over two and a half hours. If the film has a weakness, it might be the flawless complexity of the plot, but given the perfection of the characters, that potential issue is easily overlooked.

Gotham City is once again a bleak world in which hope seems nearly lost, a dark place both figuratively and literally. Although a cloak of evil threatens to overwhelm both the city and the viewer, the blackness is shattered by two shafts of light. One inspiration is of course Batman, who parallels Joker's diabolical plots with his drive to save an ignorant people from their bleak situation. Batman's determination and actions subtly call to mind a greater savior from 2,000 years ago (thanks to Ben N. for that one). The other stems from from a surprising late decision made by endangered Gothamites. These two sparks of optimism provide a dawn to the dark night that dominates the film.

On top of TDK's quality and the extra layer that Heath Ledger's death adds to the proceedings, I aver that that these redeeming qualities are a strong reason for the film's immense popularity. Without a small but vital sense of optimism, The Dark Knight might veer down a depressing trail blazed by movies like Sin City. Instead, the threads of good woven into the fabric of the story leave a pleasant aftertaste and elevate TDK to a level never before reached by comic book movies. Like classics such as Star Wars and Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Dark Knight possesses an admirable soul that stirs emotions in ways that ordinary films can not.

A perfect confluence of events have made The Dark Knight a phenomenon, more cinematic experience than mere movie. But had the film itself not matched the massive hype, even the intriguing subplots of anticipation and reality could not have salvaged it from plunging into the abyss of disappointment. Instead, the high production value, equally impressive performances, and positive spirit amplify the expectations into an all-encompassing appreciation for what may be the best film of the year.

Bottom Line: 10 of 10, equal parts quality and entertainment. Movies don't get much better than this.