1

1. Primer
So, here it is then. Your number one film. Or, rather, my number one film. Without doubt, this is the film I have watched most over the last decade. This is, in part, due to the incomprehensibility of the thing: it demands re-watching just so that you can make sense of the mechanics of the plot. Of course, it's not normally complimentary to say that film takes several viewings to understand. What makes Primer my favourite is not that I had to re-watch it, but that I wanted to re-watch it.

In essence, the film is a puzzle. A puzzle that asks, 'What in the blazes is going on here?' Scientists Aaron and Abe build a box in Aaron's garage. They're not entirely sure what it does, but they're sure it does something cool. Maybe something really cool. One of my favourite bits is where Abe talks Aaron through the discoveries that he has made about their mysterious machine. This is an artificial device; one character is initially in the dark, and the other explains what's going on, thus enlightening the audience in the process. In normal films you'd expect some patronising and hammy expository dialogue. Not so with Primer; the 'expository' dialogue involves a protein called Aspergillus Ticor, Feynman diagrams, frame dragging and this wonderfully abstruse exchange that is presumably supposed to be the moment when the penny drops for both Aaron and the viewer;

Abe: Aaron, the weeble's stupid. It can't move.
Aaron: But if it were smart...You're talking about making a bigger one.
Abe: Hey, I didn't say anything.

And there you go, that's your Eureka moment. That's the moment when it all falls in to place and you realise the potential of the box. But of course, you don't. You can't. Or at least my feeble intellect can't conceive of somebody grasping the significance of this conversation first time round ("Of course! The weeble's stupid!") It's a difficult film to follow, sure, but what makes it really difficult is that the film-makers don't help you. Even after many (many, many) viewings, you still have to depend on supposition to put together the whole story. It takes guesswork rather than logic to work out, for example, why there's a comatose man in Abe's bedroom.

'Ok', I hear you saying, 'So it's a puzzle. So's fucking Tetris.' Which is reasonable enough young sir (although I don't see why you're so angry about it.) But Primer is more than an ingenious puzzle. It's also about power, for a start. It demonstrates that the box represents power far beyond wealth or knowledge. The genius is that there have been dozens of films that feature machines that can do what their box does, but Primer is the only one I have seen that even hints at the scale of its power. This leads to the breakdown of the key relationship in the film: power corrupts and sure enough it turns Aaron into a right scoundrel (although he was a bit of a cock to start with, in all fairness.)

Then there's the unique mood of the piece. Primer really looks, sounds, and feels unlike anything else. This is largely due to the combination of a tiny budget and the desire to use film rather than video. Pretty much all the money the producer raised was spent on film stock. This meant that the cast were mostly amateurs and that there was a tight limit on the amount of footage that could be shot. There were no second takes, so everything that was shot got thrown into the film, leading to dialogue that is variably flat, stilted, or mumbled. This, alongside the script's esotericism, and its grey, grainy palate, gives you an atmosphere that is curiously unwelcoming but also compelling, nonchalant, and satisfying.

It's such a flawed film really. There's scenes where the light is just awful, the explanatory dialogue explains nothing, and the actors sometimes look surprised to be in a film. But, there's just something about it that makes me come back again and again. And that's what it comes down to I'm afraid. "Something." 100 films, 10,000 words, and all I can give you as justification is "something." Thanks for reading and sorry for wasting your time folks.

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2. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
You know, through writing this list I've had to sort of face up to my own tastes. It's been quite revealing to me to spell out what I like and dislike, to expose to myself my preferences, prejudices, superficiality, and so on. What I've noticed is that I seem to get most engaged by plot and character, rather than, say, atmosphere or cinematography. Quite strange, then, that The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is all the way up at number two. Strange, because what makes the film is it's visual inventiveness in the first half of the film, and it's lyricism in the second half. That's not to say that the characterisations aren't great in this film: Matthieu Almaric does a pretty amazing job of bringing Jean-Do to life, as the playboy turned invalid. But the really striking thing about the film is the way in which it puts you right inside his cage of a body. The woozy first person perspective is frighteningly effective - the bit where he has his eyelid sewn shut has to be one the most disturbing scenes of the decade, for instance. I think that it's really clever how it often focuses in on the fairly mundane aspects of his situation, like somebody putting on the wrong TV channel, or his sexual frustration at the frankly improbable parade of beautiful women that come into his life. You can empathise with these small frustrations, whereas total physical paralysis is a condition too massive for you to comprehend in it's entirety. The shocking first half then gives way to the gentle, meditative second part, where Jean-Do revels in the opportunity to revisit his life. Again, this isn't really about plot or character so much, just a series of poignant scenes about what it means to be alive, and what is most important in life. One of a kind stuff.

3

3. United 93
You'll know this as the film about the 4th hijacked 9/11 plane. I've sometimes wondered what the point of this film is. But then, if you start thinking that, then you start wondering what the point of any film is. So I (with a bit of help from Lord Reith) came up with three things that a film might be expected to achieve if it is to be deemed a success: to entertain, to inform, or to express an abstract concept. That sounds reasonable enough, don't you think? Now, United 93 is clearly not about entertainment. It doesn't lightly amuse. Rather, it grips you round the neck and squeezes until you make a wee snorting noise from your nose. Of course, it would be repulsive if a film with this subject matter sought to entertain. Ok, so no entertainment. What about informing, then? It looks like the kind of film that is supposed to inform, what with it's documentary stylings and dead-eyed clarity. But then, it's a story that everyone knows, and surely if your aim is to inform, then you should be telling a hitherto unknown story? To bring attention to something at least slightly obscure. So it can't be that then. So, we're left with my 'expression of abstract concepts' mumbo jumbo. Ah, maybe that's it then. It reproduces the horror of the situation in a clear and rational way, and as a result showcases the extraordinary bravery of the people on the plane. These guys are proper, honest to god heroes, and their representation here is an expression of the potential depths of human valour. Is that justification enough?

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4. You Can Count on Me
Oh God, how much love do I have for this movie? Hunners, that's how much. Hunners of love. It's a family drama, and I know that that sounds like a pejorative, but bear with me. Mark Ruffalo plays a good-for-nothing bum, who turns up at his sister Laura Linney's house and upsets her well-ordered life. God, I'm making this sound like an absolutely terrible film. But it's not, trust me, honest, it's brilliant. It's the two lead actors that make the film for me. Laura Linney's great, but Mark Ruffalo is just incredible as the childish, sullen, self-pitying, exasperating younger brother. I mean, he's just such a convincing arsehole. He tries to do the right thing, but he just doesn't try very hard. He normally has his misdemeanours forgiven though, and it's not because he makes an effort to change or because he goes on some kind of charm offensive. Rather, it's partly because of his dopey charisma, but it's mostly down to people taking the same approach to him as his sister does to the other men in her life - "I just feel sorry for them. Isn't that ridiculous?" And that scene at the bus stop. Oh God. Funny and sad and true.

5

5. Man on Wire
When you think about it, it's quite strange that this film is as uplifting and awe-inspiring as it is. After all, the act that the film centres on - guy walks between world trade towers on a tightrope - isn't heroic in the traditional sense. He's not rescuing people from burning buildings, or teaching blind kids to play the bassoon or anything. He sees his stunt as a work of art, which is reasonable enough, but it's a pretty fucking self-indulgent work of art. So I suppose it says something good about the film-makers that they managed to make something so magnificent. A big part of it is the music; the climax is set to that song, you know, the one that goes da ra ra ra ra ra ra ra ra. ra. Very inspiring, the sound and vision combine to give you a kind of slack jawed fascination. (Actually, I'm feigning ignorance here, it's Gymnopedie No 1 as you've doubtlessly realised from my description.) Also, the film-makers are quite lucky that the most of the people in the documentary are French. There's a moment where Phillipe's girlfriend points him out to some passers-by: "It is a walker. It is beautiful!" It sounds quite good in her Pepe le Pew accent, but some of the magic would have been lost if this line had been delivered by a native of, say, Huddersfield.

6

6. Pusher II/Pusher III
Yes, I agree that it's a bit cumbersome having parts 2 and 3 of a trilogy as one entry but what am I supposed to do? They're chapters in the same story, with the same characters drifting in and out, so I don't think it's fair to separate them; and the first Pusher was made back in 1996, so obviously I can't include that one. Ok, well, justification over.
Do you remember that sequence in Goodfellas, when Henry has to arrange some coke smuggling, pick up his brother from the airport, cook some pasta, sell some silencers etc etc, and all the while the music gets louder and faster, and the adrenaline practically squirts out the screen? Well, the Pusher trilogy is like that, non-stop. That's 6 hours of squirting adrenaline in total. My favourite instalment is the second one. Mads Mikkelsen is the focus here, playing serial loser Tonny, his rubishness marked out by the massive 'respect' tattoo on the back of his head. Och, and he's having a hard time of it. His father is keeping him as far away from the family business as possible; his ex-girlfriend is pregnant and only ever talks to him to laugh at him or hit him up for money; his partner in crime, Kurt the Cunt, is almost as big a loser as he is; he can't get an erection; and he keeps on doing stupid, stupid things. The whole film is swamped in coke, giving it an intense, paranoid feel. Tonny finally manages to take hold of his life, leaving you with an ambiguous ending which is fairly upbeat at first glance, but which on reflection offers little potential for a happy ending. Poor Tonny.
The third film centres on Milo, who pops up in the first two films as the ruthless, seemingly untouchable gang boss. The third film shows that he's not actually untouchable at all. He's got quite a few people touching him, like the scary new gangsters in town and his horrific daughter, and on top of that he just can't seem to stop smoking that darn heroin. Things get so bad that he has to rope in his old pal Branko for a hand. This is excellent news for the viewer, because Branko is grrrreat. He has a role in the first film as Milo's brutal enforcer, but he's conspicuously absent from the second instalment. Turns out that he's done pretty well for himself. Regardless, Milo needs some help from old Branko, who's surprisingly warm-hearted and gentle considering that he's a savage, murderous bastard.
All three films take place in the tight confines of Copenhagen, as far as I can recall there are no scenes that take place outside the city. There's characters from Scandanavia, Serbia, Albania, and fuck knows where else, but the films never really acknowledge the concept of other places. This is it. You're stuck here in Copenhagen with these crazy people. Relentlessly relentless.

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7. Elephant
The second part of what some people have referred to as Gus Van Sant's 'Death Trilogy,' between Gerry and Last Days. I think it's more accurate to think of these films as the 'Following People Around with a Camera Trilogy'. In Gerry, we follow two guys as they get lost in the desert, and in Last Days we follow a guy as he stumbles around in his garden muttering to himself. Although Gerry was pretty cool, Elephant is the pick of the trilogy because stuff actually happens. To be more precise, run-of-the-mill stuff happens, and then bad stuff happens. The run-of-the-mill stuff is believable and amusing, the bad stuff is harrowing and, well, just bad. All of this is done with that peculiar over-the-shoulder camera work, which seems to simultaneously draw you in and distance you from the action. It's as if the close filming and naturalistic dialogue make you feel as if you're kind of there, but then because none of the shots are from a first person perspective you're kind of not. Does that make any sense? Probably not. Anyway, it makes for an unusual and clinical atmosphere, where you can see the horrors unfold in a really clear-eyed and chilling way. It's a great film this one, but probably not one to watch with the grandkids.

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8. 4 Months, 3 Weeks & 2 Days
I tell you what, I'm going to go out on a limb here. Out of all the films on my list, none is elevated by a single actor as much as this film is by Anamaria Marinca. She's incredible as the room mate of a young lass about to have an abortion. Not a pleasant position to be in at the best of times, but this is happening in communist Romania so things are even trickier. This a society where all are effectively forced into criminal activity and as a result, where corruption, manipulation and dishonesty are everywhere. She has to endure all sorts of inconveniences and hardships from the petty, to the absolutely, fucking, completely not petty (though, funnily enough, having dinner with her boyfriend's condescending family looks like the toughest challenge of all to me). She deals with it all with stoicism, grace, dignity, and efficiency. But why does she put herself through all this, I hear you ask. Just to help her pal. Just because she's a good person I suppose. And just because an oppressive system can turn people into chisellers and users, but it can't extinguish all humanity.

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9. Before Sunset
I can't remember when I first heard that a sequel to Before Sunrise was being planned, but I'm pretty sure that the suggestion didn't fill me with hope. I'm pretty sure I must have thought that the prospect of it being anything other than an embarrassment was preposterous (though, as I said, I can't remember.) I loved Before Sunrise, you see; for its believability, and for its longing. And it was very much a film about young people. How could a sequel possibly recapture those emotions so many years after? Well, clearly it did, or else it wouldn't be at number 9 on my list, would it? Let's start with the believability thing then. I remember someone telling me that they didn't like Before Sunrise because they hated the two main characters. However, for me one of the film's great strengths was its willingness to allow these characters to be somewhat unlikeable. Sure, they are clearly a pair of self-obsessed cocks, but that's a fairly common ailment. I recognised their self-absorption, as much as I recognised everything else about them: the way they talk, flirt, lie. And Before Sunset recreates this all perfectly: these guys are still self-obsessed cocks, and they still talk, flirt, and lie in a way that I see around me all time. For better or worse (ie. for worse) this is my generation. These are my people. These are my cocks. And the longing, oh the longing. For me these films speak as much of wanting to be in love as they do of wanting somebody in particular. Somehow, it recaptures this feeling; despite all that they have made for themselves in the past nine years, Jesse and Celine still want to recklessly abandon themselves to their hearts. You might not like these people, you surely wouldn't want to love either of them, but falling in love the way that they do looks pretty appealing. Seeing that this desire - for each other, sure, but more for life itself I think - is still there after all those years, gives me an odd aching sensation in the middle of my chest whenever I see this film. Possibly it's trapped wind, possibly it's something else.

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10. Zoolander
It's a perfect storm this one, an unholy combination of nonsense that represents the high point of this brand of comedy. I'm not a massive fan of this mob - your Stillers, your Ferrells, your Wilsons. Your Billy Zanes - but something here just seems to click and you end up with an inspired mix of silliness and quotability (shamefully, I hardly ever cough without adding shortly after, "I think I've got the black lung Pop.") Perhaps it succeeds because there is absolutely no attempt at winning the audience's sympathy. Unlike, say, Dodgeball or Meet the Parents, Zoolander doesn't invite you to emotionally engage with the characters. You couldn't, since they're barely even recognisable as human. It's farce at it's purest, and it hammers away relentlessly with its unique daftness. This relentlessness means that at no point do you roll your eyes at attempts at poignancy or redemption - the spell of ridiculousness is never broken. Like the models themselves, it is fundamentally pointless, vacuous even. It doesn't mean anything, and it doesn't try to, instead it just tries to be stupider and stupider and funnier and funnier. And gosh, it succeeds.

14-11

14. The Child
This is the second Dardenne brothers film on the list, the other one - The Son - is way down at number 89. Both films share ambiguous titles: who is The Son (hint: it's probably not the actual son), and who is The Child (hint: it's probably not the actual child.) In fact, they're not even ambiguous now that I come to think about it. The Child in question is clearly Bruno, the lousy bum who sells his nine-day old baby behind his girlfriend's back. Ah, so now you're probably thinking that I've put another relentlessly grim film on the list? Well, maybe not. It's an improvement on The Son inasmuch as things actually happen, like car chases and stuff. And there's a disarming honesty and generosity to Bruno's scumbaggery too - check out the way he warms up the boys feet after he's helped him out of the river for instance. But then again, at least The Son had a fairly redemptive ending, and it was Bruno who forced the boy into the river in the first place. Hmm, yes, I suppose it is rather grim actually.


13. The Orphanage
Spooky chills and thrills. I can exclusively reveal that this is the top horror film on the list, but is it really a horror film? Well, yes, probably; it is scary after all. But then again there's enough ambiguity to suggest that the ghosts aren't even real, and they're certainly not malicious. I suppose it's more of a mystery movie, featuring a cleverly revealed plot, some creepy atmospherics, a poignant mother and son love story, some gasp inducing frights, and an old woman with her jaw ripped off.


12. Mullholland Dr.
Well. What can you say about Mulholland Dr. that hasn't already been said. Probably not much, so I don't think I'll even try. Bye. Only kidding folks, I'm still with you. The great thing about this film is that it combines Lynch's traditional weirdness (always enjoyable, always good-looking, often pretty fucking funny too) and a story that actually makes sense. And it does make sense, clearly and unambiguously. Ok, the first time I saw it I thought of it as typical Lynchian mind-fuckery that I would never get to the bottom of. But after I thought about it (or, perhaps, had someone explain it to me) I realised that at heart it's a clever, ingeniously told fable. As an aside, Naomi Watts performance in this film has been universally salivated over, but I really don't think it's anything earth-shaking. She's very good (and, uh, fairly attractive) but it doesn't seem to me that she's doing anything particularly difficult, especially in the first half of the film where she mostly just smiles a lot and acts goofy. Ach, what do I know.


11. Best in Show
"Number 11?" I hear you cry. "For a piece of fluff as inconsequential as this?" I hear you wail. "Are you out of your tiny mind?" right, ok ok, you've made your point. Inconsequential it may be, but it's also brilliantly funny. And do you know how hard it is to be funny? Take it from an expert, it's tough. Spinal Tap goes dog show, that's the order of the day here. Like Spinal Tap, you can't really call it a satire, the characters are too silly for this to actually mean anything. But that's ok, it's ok to simply entertain when you entertain as well as this. I especially like the warm-heartedness of the film. It exists to make fun out of these guys, but it just can't stop itself showing affection to these oddball losers. Then again, how could you not love Harlan Pepper and Buck Laughlin. It even gets quite exciting when the final judging takes place at the end. And to think that in some countries these dogs are eaten.

17-15

17. Shaun of the Dead
I could write about how funny it is. Or how intelligent it is. Or how astute it is. But I love it for its likability. I like everything, everything, everything about this film. Every time I see this film I'm stuck with a big stupid grin on my face, from the first scene to the last. It's the cinematic equivalent of rolling me over and tickling my balls. I like it very much.





16. Grizzly Man
The crucial thing about this film is the contrast between the narrator and the subject. Don't believe me? Pff. Fucking check out the way that Werner Herzog says the words 'Timothy Treadwell'. Every time he says it the contempt drips off his tongue like watery saliva - TIMOTHY TREADWELL. I'm not an expert on Werner Herzog, but it seems like there's a recurring theme in his work: the permanent threat of getting fucked by nature. Have you seen Aguirre, Wrath of God? It's about Klaus Kinski taking on South America and losing. God, I love Klaus Kinski. Anyway, fuck, I lost my train of thought there, what were we talking about? Oh aye, Grizzly Man: canny documentary maker exposes wannabe Dr Doolittle. I particularly liked Herr Herzog's cold analysis of the Grizzly's face: "I discover no kinship, no understanding, no mercy. I see only the overwhelming indifference of nature". Tell it like it is big man.


15. The King of Kong
Ok fellas, who wants to watch a movie about competitive game playing. Fellas? Hey? Fellas? Ach, you're a bunch of dicks. If you've continued reading, then here's my analysis of a pure belter of a film. This is a documentary about a guy trying to break the world record for Donkey Kong. He's foiled by a satanic hot-sauce salesman, a bunch of sycophantic henchman, a dubious referee, an old woman with a Q-Bert fetish, a malicious governing body, and the ghost of Norris McWhirter. Come on man, this is obviously a work of genius. However, there remains a huge unanswered question: who is Mr Awesome? He's a mysterious figure that floats about this film like a bobbing shite. But who the fuck is this guy? This is a film that demands a sequel. Seriously, who the fuck is Mr Awesome?

20-18

20. Rachel Getting Married
Ooh, top 20. Getting exciting now, isn't it? A most underrated movie this one. A girl is let out of rehab for the weekend to attend her sister's wedding. Uh-oh! Sounds like trouble will ensue! An unpromising premise, but it's actually really well done. Most impressive is the way that it balances family strife and tragedy with the joyful celebrations of the wedding in a way that's really quite genuine and natural. It's sadness and happiness squeezed together into the same film, the same wedding, the same weekend. On the sadness side you've got Kim, played by Anne Hathaway, a recovering junkie, turning up to wreak havoc on her sister's big day. It's an extraordinary performance; even when she's doing nothing you can still see her plotting, a wee cauldron of rage bubbling away as she wonders what she can do to hog the limelight, shock people, or just generally fuck things up. This is most painful during a scene where many of the family are giving speeches. The camera keeps moving back to Kim, and all the while you're thinking "please don't make an evil speech Kim, please, oh no, she's getting up, no, Kim, noooo!" If you aren't aware of Anne Hathaway then don't worry because I don't think you've missed anything, she normally just plays pretty girls who are concerned with dresses or boyfriends or that kind of thing. In this film, however, she's great. She totally nails Kim's anger, selfishness, smart-aleckiness, and the sadness that stems from a family tragedy the details of which aren't fully described until quite late in the film. And what's more, she isn't even the best actor in the film - that award goes to Debra Winger for playing the semi-estranged mother with a eerie, untouchable emptiness.
On the happiness side, you've got a kick ass wedding. They appear to be a very musical bunch, this family, always slapping away on the old joanna or tooting away on a bugle. As a rule, I find musical interludes in films to be boring as anything but here they're unexpectedly great. It can't hurt having Robyn Hitchcock and TV on the Radio popping up, mind you. Also, you've got the groom giving the most lovely wee wedding vow that you can imagine. Aw shucks.
It's not perfect though. I thought that the family tragedy thing was overplayed a bit. You're expecting there to be something bad in the family history, but when you find out what it is, well, it really is very bad indeed. I just think that it was over-the-top. A more mid-sized family tragedy would have been sufficient to explain the friction. And another thing, it's really a bit cheap to keep the audience in the dark about the nature of this tragedy for so long. The film aims for a naturalistic feel, so it's not fitting to have this artificial suspense and mystery built in to the script. Apart from that it's good but.


19. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Aw. You knew that a big soppy bastard like me was going to have to fit this film in somewhere. There's two sides to this film I think. First, there's the pure love story between Joel and Clementine, and then there's the disappearing memory quandary. The stuff about memory is great, although I didn't find the scenes of Joel running about in his own head as affecting as others did. But, rather embarrassingly, it's all about the love story for me. Jim Carrey's really good as Joel, but it's Kate Winslet who makes the whole thing work. Her depiction of Clemetine is just perfect. That trying too hard to be kooky-ness, that mix of independence and vulnerability, that fucking annoying shrillness. Just perfect. I mean, I bet you can think of someone you know who is exactly like Clementine. And I bet that you secretly fancy her a little bit, making Joel's infatuation all the more plausible. I love the love story all the way down to its final conclusion: 'yeah, fuck it, we'll give it a go'.


18. There Will Be Blood
What a big film. Big ideas, big music, big scenery, big acting. It really calls for total immersion in its bigness. I've only seen it once, in a (big) cinema and it was quite an experience. I have been very reluctant to see it since because I don't think anything smaller or quieter than a cinema can come close to replicating the feelings I had when I saw it. Dread, fear, awe. It's a film with a lot to say, about America, religion, greed, the killing of one's own soul. But apart from all that, just feel it.

23-21

23. Johnny Mad Dog
A vicious, vicious film this one. Johnny is the leader of a gang of coked-up child soldiers in Liberia. As the title suggests, he's fairly enthusiastic about his job. Mind you, for my money he's not even the craziest - his deputy No Good Advice is a bit of a livewire too. On the other side is Laokole, a displaced wee girl, trying to look after her young brother and her father - complicated by the fact that her old man has no legs. So these two ostensibly contrasting figures continue to pop up in each others' lives, as Johnny rampages across the country and Laokole tries to stay safe. The two of them are thus thrown into adult roles, but their childishness, after all these are children, is never far from the surface. This is a disturbing film. The existence of child soldiers is obviously terrible, but they seemed almost abstract to me previously, a symbol of complete societal distress rather than something I could actually imagine as tangible. Johnny Mad Dog slaps you across the chops and disabuses you of this notion. Most distressing are the ways that adults callously use and discard these kids, and the realisation that children's natural attributes - their enthusiasm, their energy, their capacity for faith and belief - actually makes them perfect for the role they're co-erced into. People fucking suck.


22. Me and You and Everyone We Know
Right. Well, I accept that it's not for everyone. Far too cutesy, far too pleased with itself, far too pretentious for something so essentially fluffy. But I love it. I love Christine's stupid job and stupid art project. I love Richard's long explanation for his injured hand ("I was trying to save my life and it didn't work") and the short one ("I burnt it"). And I love the fact that I love it despite the fact that I should hate it for being so fucking twee. I don't know, maybe it's the way that the characters always seem to pause before they speak, or maybe it's Miranda July's dreamy demeanour. Whatever it is, it just makes me feel happy and fluttery inside. But I understand if you hate it.


21. Code Unknown
My favourite Michael Haneke film of the decade then (though I haven't seen The White Ribbon or The Time of the Wolf yet). If you're not familiar with young Michael, his films tend to put horrible things on the screen in such a way that you fully appreciate how horrible they actually are. Perhaps this is relatively simple when dealing with, as Haneke has, murder, torture, mass suicide, or genital mutilation. The genius behind Code Unknown is that he manages to apply his techniques to more mundane scenarios. The key scene involves Juliette Binoche being intimidated on a train. An unpleasant situation, sure, but Haneke somehow turns this into a scene of absolute dread. It's uncomfortable to watch, easily the equal of, say, the murder scene in Benny's Video for pure fucking-make-it-stop-ness. On top of this cinematic torture is a fairly thoughtful set of parables about racism, intolerance, and how these evils can turn small misunderstandings into live-changing balls-ups.

26-24

26. The Class
Ah, that old favourite - the inspirational classroom drama. Sassy teacher uses the power of Mr Tambourine Man to teach ghetto kids to believe in themselves, to reach for the stars, and to stop disrespecting their bitches. Ach no, that was Dangerous Minds. All the way through The Class I was waiting for the cheese, the cliches, the 'no, that's ridiculous' moments. But they never really came, to be honest. Even the teacher's ostensible high point - getting the Malian kid to make a poster on a computer or some such bullshit - is pretty quickly revealed to be a hollow achievement. It's not a bleak film as such - it doesn't portray the problems of poverty and racism as intrinsically unsolvable, it just recognises that they're pretty fucking tricky. Maybe the lack of triumph here is driven by the way the film strives for plausible characters, in a way that high school movies rarely do (Teen Wolf excepted of course). The characters are flawed and tend to do stupid things, none more so than the teacher, whose noble intentions are stymied by his own arrogance as much as by the impossibility of his task. Nobody is saved. Teacher possibly makes the lives of some (though certainly not all) of his pupils marginally better. Maybe. A modest achievement there, Teach. Bring back Michelle Pfeiffer.


25. Volver
This is the only Pedro Almodovar film from the last decade that I've seen. I don't know why that is: I really enjoy his films whenever I do see them. In fact, there's a Pedro Almodovar box set that's been sat on my Amazon wish list for years. That's probably why I haven't seen more of his films - my silent protest at this horrible world where no-one wants to give me free stuff. Anyway, this has a bunch of women running around trying to unravel the mystery of their mother's death and her ghostly re-appearances. Fun and funny, sad and sadder, colourful and, hmm, co-ordinated (that'll do). But we're beating around the bush here, this film is really all about Penelope Cruz. Specifically, Penelope Cruz singing with a red dress and hooped earrings. Almost literally stunning: I'm pretty sure I was completely motionless during that scene. Ok, I possibly blinked. What an extraordinary creature.


24. American Psycho
What the heck is this thing supposed to be? A thriller? A satire? Some sort of a joke? I have no idea. I just know that I love it, and that it makes me cackle like a crazy person. It's so funny, and scary, and odd. And Christian Bale is such a brilliant loony - why can't he bring more of this insania to the Batman films instead of just speaking in a gruff voice and acting deep.

31-27

31. Waltz with Bashir
Right. Down to business now. The top 31 is definitely my favourite 31. No rubbish from now on. Starting with Waltz with Bashir, which I suppose should be classed as an animated documentary, dealing with a former Israeli soldier's attempts to piece together his memories of his part in the war with Lebanon. It looks cool as anything, featuring a lurid yellow monochrome that makes the exciting bits more exciting and the trippy bits trippier. It strings together abstract images with action scenes while having a right good think about war and the unpredictability of memory. Genuinely moving at the end too.


30. The Devil and Daniel Johnston
Documentary makers must have an advantage when they pick a musician as a subject - they seldom have to worry about finding a soundtrack. In this case, Daniel Johnston's music fits his life-story perfectly: inspired, maybe even inspirational, but with a deep vein of sadness running through it. Daniel's story is helluva moving, helluva strange, helluva dangerous, helluva improbable. An extraordinary guy and a story well told.




29. Oldboy
Another revenge film then, eh? There seems to be rather a few of them around. Not really my favourite genre, what with me being a peace, love and forgiveness kind of guy. This one's a bit special though. Man gets locked in a room for fifteen years for no apparent reason. No doubt he's going to be thirsty for a bit of vengeance and pretty eager to find out why his young adulthood has been taken away from him. But sometimes, you know, you're really better off not knowing. I don't mean to give the impression that Oldboy is some sort of philosophical meditation on justice and desert. Look at that picture yonder: it's far far far too violent to suggest that. Why don't we agree that it's the kind of film that wants it two ways: warily warning that revenge might not be the best course of action, while simultaneously revelling in hammer swinging mayhem.


28. The Lives of Others
I don't mean to start on a negative. I mean, this is obviously a really good film, it's number 28 on the list for fuck's sake. But, you know, I don't really buy it. At the beginning of the film the main man is hard ass Stasi veteran - he was really quite tough at the start, right? And this silly boho couple manage to melt his heart? Nah. I don't buy it. Nevertheless, this is still quality stuff. Gorgeous communist colours, soulful acting, thoughtful pacing. Very involving too. I cried at the end of the third act when one of the central characters had a nasty accident, but most people seem to think that the real emotional Chinese burn comes at the end of the very last scene.


27. Downfall
Oof, a heavy duty film, this one. When was the last time that you sat through an entire film without coming close to smiling? (No, Along Came Polly doesn't count. You turned that off half way through, remember?) The last days in Hitler's bunker (whoosh, what a juxtaposition of sentences.) This is oppressive stuff, you can really feel the walls closing in. It's exciting and extremely unpleasant. The genius of this film is in achieving the perfect balancing act: the horror and the claustrophobia of that bunker are felt intensely, but you never come close to sympathising with the protagonists.

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34. Sweet Sixteen
Is this a parochial choice perhaps? Do I just want to crowbar a Scottish film (or at least a film set in Scotland) into the top 50 somehow? Maybe. Actually, thinking about it, almost certainly. Nevertheless, this is quality stuff. Young Liam runs around selling drugs, getting into (often highly improbable) situations so that he can make some money for his mother and 'save' her from his evil stepdad. It's pretty grim stuff to be honest, though not without a few laughs. The strongest part is the relationship between Liam, his mother and his sister. Liam convinces his sister to give their mother another chance, and he goes apeshit when the mother betrays them. His sister, meanwhile, wearily accepts it - she's more angry at herself for being sentimental enough to believe she could change. Oh Liam, what a waste.

33. DiG!
There's nothing deep about Anton and Courtney. They're just a pair of arseholes. This film is a simple document of their stupidity, greed, arrogance, self-destructiveness, and treachery. The question is whether it is better to be an arsehole who sells out and sucks corporate cock-and-balls, or an arsehole so obsessed with authenticity that conventional standards of decency and humanity no longer seem to apply. I don't know. Neither option seems particularly attractive, but it sure is fun watching these two object lessons in arseholery.

32. Sexy Beast
I think that Don has to be one of the scariest baddies ever. I mean, think about it, most baddies normally intimidate through actions or words. But Don talks a load of rubbish really, and by the time he gets violent he's already put the willies up poor old Gal. So, he manages to be scary without the normal crutches. How does he do it? I remember someone complementing Ben Kingsley on his stillness. It's true, he is very still here. Except when he gets really angry and his head starts shaking a bit. But that stillness, it's eerie. It suggests great will and self-possession, and more importantly it makes his starey eyes even starier.

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38. Intacto
More of a great concept coolly executed than a great film perhaps, but I liked it. The basic idea is that luck is a finite resource that people can steal or win from each other. Some people seem to be better at controlling their store of luck, so they end up with massive stockpiles. These are the kind of people who can walk away from plane crashes, survive concentration camps, trot across busy motorways, and, in the film's stand-out sequence, run full throttle through the woods, blindfolded and with their arms tied behind their backs, without bumping into any trees. So, you've got a shady group of super-lucky folk, going up against each other in odd challenges to pinch their opponents' luck. All this leads up to a game of Russian roulette in the desert with the world's luckiest man, while the police run around with a similar state of mind as the viewer (ie. pretty bewildered) . Are you following all this? The reasons for wanting to keep on accumulating luck are somewhat oblique: these lucky folk do a lot of moping around and don't seem particularly happy, so how lucky are they really? It's a nice mix of innovative set pieces and old people sitting around scratching their chins.

37. Baghead
This is a film about a man with a bag over his head. Or is it? Eh, yes. Yes it is. But it's definitely one of the top films in the whole 'man with a bag over his head' genre. And who is this man with a bag over his head anyway? Well, it could be one of the four dickheads stranded in a cabin in the woods. Or it could be someone else. I'm not telling. Although, you do find out at the end of this clever, jumpy, well-observed, cheap-as-chips, genre-jumping mystery movie.

36.Punch Drunk Love
A minor work. That would be the way to describe this if you were the kid out of The Squid and the Whale. 'Punch Drunk Love is minor Anderson'. It's minor in scale anyway, compared to Magnolia and There Will Be Blood, but that's not necessarily a bad thing; certainly it's a much better film than the self-important Magnolia. Rather than an ambitious epic about the life of a city or the roots of a nation's identity, this is a quirky wee thing about an oddball romance. Despite the kookiness though, it has that hard-to-define realness about it. The romance feels believable to me somehow, and I can relate to these people regardless of their oddness. And I like the way that the characters often seem to be in a daze, and how the washed out colours make the viewer feel a bit woozy too. Yes, I think I like minor works actually.

35.In the Loop
The thing that lets The Thick of It down sometimes, is that it relies too much on Malcolm Tucker. Now and again I think that it's a bit lazy, and that the easiest way to fill up the half hour show is to bring Malcolm in for a bit of inventive swearing. All very funny, but if Malcolm was a bit more in the background then the other characters might come through a bit more (especially the cabinet minister, because Rebecca Front's brilliant every time she's on.) So, the film improves on the TV series because it puts Malcolm in a busier context, he's just one part of a universally awesome ensemble. That said, the highlight of the film has to be Peter Capaldi and James Gandolfini squaring up outside the conference room: Malcolm Tucker toe to toe with Tony Soprano. And it's got the girl out of My Girl in it: how cool is that?

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43. [REC]
Some horror films give you jump-uppy thrills and some give you a creepy feeling that stays with you long after the film. [REC] manages to do both. It uses the Blair Witch approach of psuedo-'found' footage, in this case from a Spanish TV programme that never aired because the goings on were too darn spooky. This means that you get that pure claustrophobic feeling, because you're stuck with the cameraman, who is himself at risk. When done well this technique really draws you into the film, and [REC] is definitely done well. The tension ramps up as they move higher and higher up the building, the pay-off at the end is fucking terrifying, and, ooh, I'm shivering just thinking about it. The big question: will this be the highest ranked horror film? Stay tuned to find out fright fans.

42. The Beat My Heart Skipped
Wow, what a stylish film. So cool, these French guys, eh? This is all about being carried away by delusions about your life's potential. Poor old Thomas thinks he can be a concert pianist despite his technical limitations and the constant encroachment of his gangster family upon his plans. So many films tell you, 'Hang on to your dreams'. This film tells you, 'Pull yourself together, your dreams are fucking preposterous'.

41. Jonestown: The Life and Death of the Peoples Temple
An unfussy, uncomplicated documentary that tells its story in a no-frills way. It's such a compelling story that this is enough to make it a cracking film. Guy sets up cult, does a bit of brainwashing, speeds its members to a South American compound, and, well it's not going to have a happy ending is it? What really elevates the film is the use of the audio footage of, literally, the cult's dying moments. It's horrifying. You're simultaneously appalled by the loss of life and angered by the depths of evil that humans can sink to.

40. Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father
Whereas Jonestown is a simple documentary that lets the story tell itself, Dear Zachary just tries too hard. Sentimental narration, melodramatic music, cheesy graphics, and an all-round amateurish feel; there's a lot to dislike about this film. But the story is so tragic, and the protagonists are so likable that it's horribly effective. It's about the murder of Andrew Bagby and the subsequent custody battle over the son he never knew. Key to the film's success is the presence of Andrew's parents, who are incredibly brave, dignified, loving, and just so, so admirable. I cried like a fucking baby.

39, The Room
Hello doggie! The Room is not a great film. It's not even close to being a good film. But this isn't a list of the best films of the 00s, it's a list of my favourite films - look at the top of the page if you don't believe me, dick. The Room deserves to be here because few recent films have given me as much pure joy. Generally I'm not into the whole 'so bad, it's good' thing, but the level of ineptitude here makes this film impossible to resist. It's supposed to be a human drama, but it bears absolutely no resemblance to the lives of humans. I've seen the dialogue described as how goats would imagine humans would interact, which seems pretty astute. It's just baffling, and completely hilarious. My favourite bits? Possibly the two football scenes - the first, where the guys pass to each other while standing less than a metre apart, and the one where they're wearing tuxedos for reasons that are never divulged. As I said, pure joy.

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46. The Hurt Locker
Brought to you by the director of Point Break! 100% pure adrenaline, and so on. She really has a thing for tough guys talking tough talk. It's pretty extraordinary that someone can make a film about the Iraq war without really saying much about the war itself (other than 'it's unpleasant', and 'you might die'). I suppose that she didn't have much to say about surfing in Point Break either. Except that surfing is 'a source', I remember that. The Hurt Locker is more of a character study than a political message really, or a tri-caricatural study (since there's three of them.) And it's incredibly tense, as crazy risk-taker James goes around recklessly unplugging bombs. With no helmet on. Wearing a blindfold. Using only his teeth. Mind you, I thought that one of the tensest scenes involved no bombs at all - it was when the three squad members got drunk and starting getting all macho with each other. I suppose it suggests that the characterisation is pretty good when you can feel the growing tension in the air, and know that it's going to end in tears. Certainly, 'sensible soldier' and 'nervous soldier' were well rounded and believable. I'm not sure about the central character though. The guy that plays him, Jeremy Renner, is pretty good, really charismatic but also sort of haunted-looking when necessary. I just couldn't understand his motivation for doing the stupidly dangerous things that he did. And the film probably drops down twenty places on my list because of that. Maybe it was just too subtle for me, and I'd have preferred it if they had arrows and flashing lights saying 'addicted to the adrenaline of war' or 'escaping the mundanity of civilian life'. Ralph Fiennes as a badass soldier is a hell of a redeeming feature though.

45. Dead Man's Shoes
Someone has told me that I look a bit like Paddy Considine in this film, when I'm wearing my green coat and I have a beard on the go. I wish! As if I could ever be so terrifying. All the kids on the top floor of the bus would shut up whenever I walked on. A pure revenge film this, imagine the East Midlands equivalent of Kill Bill. Except that clever old Paddy worked out that you don't need to be a kung-fu expert to exact revenge if you have an axe and a bag full of psychotropic drugs. And here's a trivia question for you; which real life person has been played by both the actors who play the brothers in Dead Man's Shoes? First correct answer wins a chocolate mouse.

44. Eastern Promises
This is something of a companion piece to the other recent Cronenberg/Mortensen collaboration A History of Violence. Together they are seen, by some, as Cronenberg selling out since they are somewhat less deranged than his normal output. I don't really think that's fair. They are pretty conventional stories, but at the same time they are both sprinkled with brutal explosions of violence and exposed genitals. Not really family fare. Anyway, they're twin films; in one Viggo Mortensen pretends that he's a gangster, in the other he pretends that he's not a gangster. Clever, huh? So, since they're two sides of the same coin, I wouldn't argue with anyone who says that A History of Violence is better. I certainly wouldn't challenge them to a naked knife fight in a Turkish sauna. In case you haven't seen the film, I should explain that a naked knife fight in a Turkish sauna is one of the key scenes in Eastern Promises (and that the idea of a naked knife fight in a Turkish sauna didn't just independently form in my head.) It's an incredibly vivid scene. Perhaps the nakedness makes the characters seem more vulnerable, but when the knives slash flesh, oof, it looks really, really sore. Brutal.

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50. Wendy and Lucy
A sad wee film this one. A film about disappointments, I think. Wendy is disappointed again and again through the film, but the funny thing is that sometimes it's the really minor disappointments that hit people hardest. Like when she realises what a paltry sum of money the security guard has given her. Her expression is perfect: resigned, and sad in that way where you're not sure if you're going to start crying or laughing. Michelle Williams is great here, she clicks into the mood of the film perfectly - quiet, still, thoughtful, melancholic, poignant. Don't know why she's so bothered about that mangy mutt though.

49. Infernal Affairs
Appallingly, this is probably best known for being the film that The Departed was based on. It's appalling because Infernal Affairs is clearly the superior film. It's so much more sharp and stylish. And lean, if you know what I mean, no fucking about or explanations - you don't need explanations to understand the two main characters, you just have to look at them. It makes The Departed look as bloated as Jack Nicholson's face. And the ending's way cooler too, America just couldn't let the bad guy get away with it.

48.The Man Who Wasn't There
This film's just full of Coenness. It's got the recurring motif, in this case children's hairdos (just like the hat in Miller's Crossing, the clock in The Hudsucker Proxy.) It's got an almost completely passive main character, whose only attempt to change their routine leads to disaster (see Barton Fink, A Serious Man.) It's got a henpecked husband (a la Fargo, O Brother Where Art Thou.) It's got a totally unexpected death (in the style of Burn After Reading, The Big Lebowski.) It's got that funny wee fat man with the pencil moustache (as in pretty much every decent Coen Brothers film.) What more could one desire?

47. Together
The most effective feelgood film that you could imagine . Why he would want to stop making lovely films like this and Fucking Åmål, to start making brutal films about sex trafficking is beyond me.

4 down, 46 to go. Come back soon.

The First Installment

51. The Wrestler
52. Pan's Labyrinth
53. Synecdoche, NY
54. A History of Violence
55. Memento
56. Head-On
57. Zodiac
58. American Splendor
59. Capturing the Friedmans
60. Sugar
61. Morvern Callar
62. Zidane
63. Last Resort
64. Wall-E
65. Freddy Got Fingered
66. Superbad
67. Dark Days
68. Brick
69. My Summer of Love
70. The Piano Teacher
71. In Bruges
72. Tell No-one
73. Ghost World
74. The Squid and the Whale
75. Chopper
76. Last House in the Woods
77. Late Marriage
78. Birth
79. Gone Baby Gone
80. Jindabyne
81. Touching the Void
82. Persepolis
83. Hidden
84. Happy Go Lucky
85. Funny People
86. Idiocracy
87. The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford
88. Salvage
89. The Son
90. Hunger
91. Let the Right One In
92. In this World
93. Avatar
94. Requiem for a Dream
95. Lantana
96. Dog Soldiers
97. The Devil's Backbone
98. A Serious Man
99. The Son's Room
100. No Country for Old Men

This first section reads like a list of films that I liked but never loved. How sad. It's pretty hard to separate this lot in my estimation - apart from numbers 56 to 51 you could jiggle the order about quite a bit and it wouldn't make much difference to me.

Most people seemed to like No Country for Old Men a bit more than I did. It was gripping enough, but it really didn't mean anything as far as I was concerned. Javier Bardem was given all sorts of mad props, but his performance was typical of the film as a whole - stylish, a bit unsettling, but somewhat lacking in any recognisable emotion. I mean, he might has well have had a bag over his head rather than that silly 'do'. I suppose that that's kind of the point, that he's supposed to be a ruthless, implacable psycho, but I don't think that the guy should be winning awards for a performance without humanity or emotion or anything really, other than scariness.

There's a couple of cheap, nasty, mean-spirited horror films on the list, Salvage and Last House in the Woods (Home-Sick came pretty close to making the cut too.) You'd be hard pushed to say these films mean anything either of course, but that's not really the point. Their purpose is to showcase imaginative mutilations and to make you feel slightly abused. They both serve their purpose handsomely. Incidentally, I think that Last House in the Woods might have the lowest user rating on imdb.com of all the films that appear on the list (4.8). Clearly an underrated genre; very much maligned and misunderstood, as Mr. C would put it.

Actually, I'm mistaken. Freddy Got Fingered has an even lower user rating (3.9). I'd be prepared to accept that this isn't a great movie by any conventional measure. It's a piece of shit by any conventional measure. Nevertheless, it's touched by genius in the way that it keeps on delivering jaw dropping moments, again and again, from the second scene onwards (you'll recall that's the scene where Gord encounters his first horse cock.) And it's just funny. Like that bit in the delivery room! It's just funny!

Ok, so the top 50's coming up soon.

Welcome

Hello! Glad you could make it. Firstly, thanks very much for having a look. I appreciate it greatly. You know, I've made this list for personal satisfaction really. I got the idea into my head and I couldn't get rid of it, so have ended up with this. Nevertheless, it's still important that somebody reads this. It justifies the endeavour I suppose. Otherwise, I'm just a gorilla masturbating in a cage, so to speak.

So, the plan is, tomorrow you'll get a list of numbers 100-51. From then on, I'll be posting a couple of entries at a time, with a little bit of commentary, maybe an explanation of why I like it, that kind of thing. Every film will have a link to imdb.com, so you can have a look at them there. Oh, and for a film to be included it has to have a release date on imdb.com between 2000 and 2009. A bit arbitrary perhaps, but a man's got to have a code. This means that the likes of Audition and Being John Malkovich miss out, despite popping up on best of the decade lists elsewhere. You may be aware that some people feel that reviews of the decade are ill-advised at this moment in time, because decades are properly defined as the time between the first days of years ending in 1. These people are, however, attention seeking cock-smokers. A decade is a period of ten years, irrespective of what date you choose as a starting point. I choose 01/01/00.

Also, I'm not a complete bum and there are many lauded films that I haven't seen . Sooo, don't expect to see the following films on my list because I haven't seen them; Children of Men, Brokeback Mountain, In the Mood for Love, Time Out, Crash, Million Dollar Baby, Slumdog Millionaire, Milk, Werckmeister Harmonies, Fantastic Mr Fox, District 9, Amelie, The Time of the Wolf, Inglourious Basterds, Talk to Her, The New World, 25th Hour, Gerry.

Right, let's get started then.