We live in an age where films, television shows and music are talked about and hyped-up long before most of us ever see or hear them. Before most of the viewing/listening public is able to consume new entities of pop culture, we are already forced into a built-up expectation that most likely will not meet whatever standard we've put on it. That was the case this year for me, anyway. My attitude after leaving the majority of movies this year was rarely above "meh." I don't know if I'm turning into a cynical prick or what, but I just felt really disappointed and cheated too many times this year at the movie theater.
For starters, Liam Neeson punches ZERO wolves in “The Grey,” when that was what the entire movie was built on. The climax of the trailer is Liam Neeson running headstrong into a werewolf high-tailing it right back at him at full gallop. You make me pay twenty bucks to watch people be cold and die and for the screen go black just as Liam Neeson begins his sprint at the alpha werewolf? Fuck you.
I also don't want to pay hard-earned dough to watch James Bond be butthurt for two and a half hours because somebody mentioned his abandoned childhood mansion that he clearly didn't give a shit about in the first place. And how dare you make me wait 71 minutes to see the bad guy for the first time. Academy Award winner and suaveman extraordinaire Javier Bardem is billed as the villain in "Skyfall," and he gets MAYBE 30 minutes of face time. Also, excitedly comparing the end of "Skyfall" to "Home Alone" is an insult to the brilliant slapstick pioneer that is "Home Alone." Fuck you twice.
And as much as I tried to like "The Dark Knight Rises," there was one thing I wasn't able to get over. I can forgive the obscene volume of Bane's voice, Alfred's little cafe fantasy that blatantly sets up the ending and the apparent reality that pushups can heal a broken back, but I cannot forgive the painful stupidity of that ridiculous goddamn hole-in-the-ground prison. Hmm, let me see. Batman has been thrown into a really big hole that's actually a prison, but the catch about the prison is that no one has ever been able to make the jump to the highest ledge to escape since the only way out is through the top of the hole. WELL, I WONDER HOW BATMAN WILL HANDLE THAT SITUATION? Dammit, Nolan brothers, a little subtlety never hurt anyone.
Ok. I'm sorry. I just had to get that off my chest.
For starters, Liam Neeson punches ZERO wolves in “The Grey,” when that was what the entire movie was built on. The climax of the trailer is Liam Neeson running headstrong into a werewolf high-tailing it right back at him at full gallop. You make me pay twenty bucks to watch people be cold and die and for the screen go black just as Liam Neeson begins his sprint at the alpha werewolf? Fuck you.
I also don't want to pay hard-earned dough to watch James Bond be butthurt for two and a half hours because somebody mentioned his abandoned childhood mansion that he clearly didn't give a shit about in the first place. And how dare you make me wait 71 minutes to see the bad guy for the first time. Academy Award winner and suaveman extraordinaire Javier Bardem is billed as the villain in "Skyfall," and he gets MAYBE 30 minutes of face time. Also, excitedly comparing the end of "Skyfall" to "Home Alone" is an insult to the brilliant slapstick pioneer that is "Home Alone." Fuck you twice.
And as much as I tried to like "The Dark Knight Rises," there was one thing I wasn't able to get over. I can forgive the obscene volume of Bane's voice, Alfred's little cafe fantasy that blatantly sets up the ending and the apparent reality that pushups can heal a broken back, but I cannot forgive the painful stupidity of that ridiculous goddamn hole-in-the-ground prison. Hmm, let me see. Batman has been thrown into a really big hole that's actually a prison, but the catch about the prison is that no one has ever been able to make the jump to the highest ledge to escape since the only way out is through the top of the hole. WELL, I WONDER HOW BATMAN WILL HANDLE THAT SITUATION? Dammit, Nolan brothers, a little subtlety never hurt anyone.
Ok. I'm sorry. I just had to get that off my chest.
Yet again, however, this year proved true the gradual trend of more great seasons of television and great music releases rather than movies, so this list will span across those three media instead of strictly movies.
Let's get to it:
The Pretty Damn Goods of 2012
Last August, Louis C.K. tweeted that in his 27 years of doing stand-up comedy, Tig Notaro's set at Largo in Los Angeles was one of the few masterful sets that he had ever seen. He did not specify why. Perhaps it had something to do with how she began her set:
"Hello. Good evening. Hello. I have cancer. How are you?"
For thirty minutes, Tig Notaro bares her soul and pours out every intimate feeling of uncertainty and worry she has about living with cancer in a way that's unlike anything that's ever been published or released. What's more shocking is what she continues to reveal throughout it all. In the span of past four months at the time of the taping, she had gotten pneumonia, contracted an intestinal disease, her mother died in a freak accident, she went through a breakup and THEN was diagnosed with breast cancer. The uneasy initial crowd reaction gives way to complete sympathy and support by the time her set is over. Amidst all the tragedy, it really is a beautiful moment.
The way she talks about her situation, combining humor with gut-wrenching reality is such a humbling experience to endure. It put my entire existence into a new perspective. I can't recommend it enough. (Available on amazon and iTunes for $4.99)
Hands down, the funniest movie I saw all year. The drug freakout scene at school in the middle of the day is one of the hardest laughs I've ever had in my life.
This is one of the more rousing and powerful songs I've heard in the past fifteen years. A celebration of impulsion and uncertainty, "Fire's Highway" is a beautiful and raucous knockout of a rock song.
Jack Reacher
I, in no way, expected to enjoy "Jack Reacher" as much as I did. It felt so retro, and I mean that in the best way possible. It was an engaging detective story, the dialogue had a sharp wit and the car chase scene was incredible. I'm pretty sure I was legitimately fist-pumping at multiple points during that scene. I loved it.
At some point in the very beginning of "Les Miserables," the character of Jean Valjean paces back and forth in a cathedral singing an existential soliloquy about what his life has become. Having gone into "Les Miserables" completely blind as to it's content, I was absolutely floored when Hugh Jackman pours every single attainable fiber of his being that he can muster into that scene. He is emaciated beyond belief and uses every bit of strength he has to show you his torment and anguish. Plus, I still can't get over how awesome it is that director Tom Hooper made everyone sing live throughout the movie. While I didn't completely enjoy the entirety of "Les Miserables," Hugh Jackman is phenomenal and makes it worth your time and the price of admission.
Top Ten Favorites of 2012
All my life I'd heard about various national mini-series sensations like "North & South" and "Roots," but I've never been part of any craze like that. But in May of last year, I, along with millions of other Americans, was enthralled by the narrative of two massive feuding families more so than I have ever been by any other television event. I think most of it had to do with the fact that I didn't even know that "Hatfields & McCoys" was made at all until about a month beforehand. When I saw that Kevin Costner (a.k.a. Western Jesus) and Bill Paxton (a.k.a. Texan Jesus) were the two co-leads, I knew right away this show was not fucking around. Brutal, painful and ruthless, "Hafields & McCoys" displays a very focused narrative of two families in mid-to-late 1800's Kenutcky and West Virginia whose hatred for each other spawned from the two heads of the families who fought side-by-side in the Civil War. One hated the other for abandoning his men in the middle of the war to go home and rejoin his family. After the war, each of the families maim and kill one another in senseless and ruthless ways for years on end. It is one of the most tragic, yet gripping tales of American lore ever televised.
Wes Anderson is one of the strangest souls on the planet, and I love it. It seems as if every single detail of his films are meticulously and methodically prepared and planned out. There's not a book on a shelf or a blemish on the wall that isn't meant to be there. He is one of the most unique filmmakers to ever live and I will cherish his movies as long as I live. (Well, maybe all except "The Darjeeling Limited." Too sad for my taste.)
"Moonrise Kingdom" has many elements about it that I would never have thought would work together. Edward Norton as a scout leader? Instant classic. Bruce Willis as a banging-another-man's-wife island cop? Not awkward at all. The honest interaction and chemistry between the two lead characters? Totally believable. It's such an inventive love story of innocent rebellion and curiosity, of two kids running off into the woods to spend time and fall in love. While the residents of the island search frantically for them, they savor the time together that they know they won't ever have again. It's a wonderful movie.
(The half-naked beach dance, however, I'm still not sure about. I absolutely believe they would say and do stuff like that, but filming it and showing it is really tricky. It's really uncomfortable to watch.)
David O. Russell, the writer and director of the film, took MANY creative liberties with the film adaptation of the novel. On its own, it is a fantastic film, but I fell in love with so many aspects of the book that were completely removed. It was disappointing on some level, but Bradley Cooper kept me enthralled the whole time.
"Moonrise Kingdom" has many elements about it that I would never have thought would work together. Edward Norton as a scout leader? Instant classic. Bruce Willis as a banging-another-man's-wife island cop? Not awkward at all. The honest interaction and chemistry between the two lead characters? Totally believable. It's such an inventive love story of innocent rebellion and curiosity, of two kids running off into the woods to spend time and fall in love. While the residents of the island search frantically for them, they savor the time together that they know they won't ever have again. It's a wonderful movie.
(The half-naked beach dance, however, I'm still not sure about. I absolutely believe they would say and do stuff like that, but filming it and showing it is really tricky. It's really uncomfortable to watch.)
8. Bradley Cooper in Silver Linings Playbook
The early universal praise of "Silver Linings Playbook" was enough to entice me to read the source material, Matthew Quick's 2008 debut novel of the same name. About 98 percent of the book is told from the sole perspective of Bradley Cooper's character Pat Peoples (surname Solitano in the film). It was a neurotic, heartwarming and heartbreaking powerhouse of a novel, and I enjoyed it more than any other book I've read in the past decade.
Every bit of Bradley Cooper as we know him, the debonair ladykiller with a mane of luscious hair, the comedic actor in "The Hangover," all of that is stripped away entirely. He disappears into the troubled character of Pat Solitano, and it is the most honest portrayal of a mentally ill character in recent cinematic memory. It was such a joy watching someone we are so used to seeing in big budget fanfare shed that skin and become an regular human being.
If there is an argument to be made about going to the theater to see a movie versus watching on your laptop or TV at home,
the first twenty minutes of "Flight" should be the apex of that
argument. Seeing pilot Whip Whitaker (Denzel Washington) wake up
hungover, snort a fat line of cocaine, stumble up the stairs to the
airplane and simultaneously make screwdrivers with one hand while
going through a pre-flight speech with passengers was unsettling enough. It doesn't end there.
7. The first twenty minutes of Flight
(Minor spoilers ahead)
From the moment the plane takes off in that nasty thunderstorm, through the almost zero degree plummet to the earth, to the inversion of the aircraft and the inevitable crash, my heart was pounding out of my chest. It's as if you, the viewer, are stuck in that cockpit with those two pilots, heading straight to your imminent death. After that, though, "Flight" becomes a victim of wince-inducing cliches and tedious storytelling. That first twenty minutes, though, excluding the part about the female junkie, is flawless.
There is no reason this movie should have been good. There are so many franchises that have blown any respect they ever had out of the water with unnecessary, belated, half-assed sequels (cough, “Crystal Skull,” cough). “MiB 2” was so painful to watch. It put a shit-covered cherry on top of what was once a perfect sci-fi comedy sundae. As the release of “MiB 3” neared, I knew it would get my money out of respect, but I was not at all optimistic. I don’t know what I expected, but I sure as hell wasn’t ready for the relentless entertainment that was “MiB 3.”
First of all, I’m a sucker for time travel, so finding out that Agent J goes back to 1969 to stop a recently escaped moon prisoner from killing a much younger Agent K aroused my visual appetite greatly. Watching Josh Brolin do a Tommy Lee Jones impression for most of the movie was wonderful. His tone and demeanor could not have been more spot-on. Also, the villain kicks ass. Jemaine Clement (one-half of New Zealand’s fourth most popular folk parody duo) was perfectly cast as Boris the Animal. And the little creature that burrows in his hand? That little guy was ruthless. The final showdown is a thing of beauty, and if that ending doesn’t put a lump in your throat, I don’t know what will.
There was just enough nostalgia to resonate with fans of the original movie and enough new technology to make it fell like a 2012 release. It felt like a labor of love. It was funny. It was warm, heartfelt and enthralling. Most importantly, though, Will Smith is back in true form.
First of all, I’m a sucker for time travel, so finding out that Agent J goes back to 1969 to stop a recently escaped moon prisoner from killing a much younger Agent K aroused my visual appetite greatly. Watching Josh Brolin do a Tommy Lee Jones impression for most of the movie was wonderful. His tone and demeanor could not have been more spot-on. Also, the villain kicks ass. Jemaine Clement (one-half of New Zealand’s fourth most popular folk parody duo) was perfectly cast as Boris the Animal. And the little creature that burrows in his hand? That little guy was ruthless. The final showdown is a thing of beauty, and if that ending doesn’t put a lump in your throat, I don’t know what will.
There was just enough nostalgia to resonate with fans of the original movie and enough new technology to make it fell like a 2012 release. It felt like a labor of love. It was funny. It was warm, heartfelt and enthralling. Most importantly, though, Will Smith is back in true form.
After the way the second season of "Boardwalk Empire" ended, I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to come back from it. Killing off the most compelling character in a show is a ballsy move to do so early in a series. By the time the third season premiere came around, I still had a pretty sour taste in my mouth, but I was a big enough fan of the show to stick with it. I'm so glad I did.
I've never seen as twisted a character as Gyp Rosetti in any medium. Bobby Cannavale brings to life a homicidal, deviant lunatic and watching his story unfold over the course of the fall was nothing short of shocking and unsettling. I would love to get into specifics, but Cannavale's brilliant performance deserves your full submission and attention. In my opinion, it was the most captivating performance on television in 2012.
Let's be honest; Miguel looks like a supreme douche. When I randomly came across a video of Miguel performing on Letterman, the only reason I watched it was because I wanted to see who had the balls to use a prevalent one-name moniker for himself. There are millions of people named Miguel in the world. Why do YOU get to be THE Miguel? As soon as I watched that performance of "Adorn," I knew why. Looking like a concoction of the best parts of Prince, Michael Jackson and James Brown, Miguel's stage presence is cocky and confident for sure. When you make some of the best R&B music this side of the year 2000, you then have the right to go by that one name.
That performance prompted me to buy the album "Kaleidoscope Dream," which thrusts R&B into a new future. Electric, space-y and seductive, the songs on "Kaleidoscope Dream" are so funky it hurts. On paper, the lyrics for "Do You..." are ridiculous. But when that machine-gun bass thump kicks in, it doesn't matter because it's impossible not to get caught up in the groove. This album was such an unexpected gem for me. If you're a fan of music at all, I can't recommend it enough.
3. Django Unchained
Trying to predict what a Quentin Tarantino movie is going to be like is a futile effort. I thought about all sorts of scenes in "Django Unchained" in the many months leading up to its release and almost none of them were met. It's a very dialogue-driven movie and although the action is seldom, when it happens it'll knock your respective genitalia in the dirt.
Watching that movie on opening night in a theater filled to capacity is a once-in-a-lifetime experience that I will never forget. No one saw anything coming, and every single second of the 160-minute-plus epic was crucial and brilliant. The fact that people from all different walks of life can sit a movie with such a controversial premise and collectively enjoy it was such a wonderful breath of fresh air.
Jamie Foxx plays Django with great restraint. Christoph Waltz has the time of his life as Dr. King Schulz, and everyone watching fell in love with him. Samuel L. Jackson had everyone in tears as the house slave Stephen. Leonardo DiCaprio is such a spot-on homicidal creep as Calvin Candie. When the sun goes down and he emerges in his dinner attire looking like the fucking devil, you know you're in for a wild night. In spite of what you think the tone would be for a premise like "Django Unchained," it was my favorite and most joyous cinematic experience in 2012.
Over the past three or four months, I have been studying good kid, m.A.A.d. city as much as my ears will allow me. I've never heard anything like it in my life. Almost an audio autobiography, good kid, m.A.A.d. city is constructed in such an impressive way that even after two or three dozen listens I still can't understand and sift through it all. The cassette tape interludes and answering machine messages at random points in most of the songs pretty much ruin any chance at prevalent radio play, but Kendrick Lamar sacrifices that for an epic musical story.
Almost every possible feeling one can get from a song is in this album: spooky, late-night songs ("Sherane"), slow grooves ("Bitch, Don't Kill My Vibe"), party jams ("Money Trees"), rousing hometown battle cries ("Compton"). If you like any rap at all, you'll love something in here. Everyone I've played any of these songs around just starts bobbing their heads after a little bit, going "Yeah... Yeah! Fucking right!" It's impossible not to enjoy it. (Unless you're over the age of 60, maybe. In that case, what the hell are you doing reading this, anyway?)
This album IS art. That term gets thrown around a lot. As far as music goes, I've never felt that way about anything. It never lets up. Each song is greats on its own and as a complete album, it transcends all music and becomes something else entirely. Someone needs to figure out how to make a museum for music because good kid, m.A.A.d. city deserves to be listened to, observed and studied for the rest of the time that man exits on Earth.
(SPOILERS)
"Dead Freight" almost killed me.
After taking care of the magnificent chicken man Gus Fring, Walt and Jesse run out of methylamine, the rarest and most crucial ingredient to Heisenberg's blue. Using Gus' shady, nervous and altogether unnerving former distributor, Lydia, and her connection to an electromotive company (under threat of death), Walt, Jesse and Mike hatch a plan to steal 1000 gallons of methylamine from a train car. In case that was too much information, let me sum it up: THEY ARE GOING TO ROB A FUCKING TRAIN. It is a convoluted plan in which every single possible detail is planned out and studied over and over again. They are certain that, if all goes according to plan, they will go 100% unnoticed.
What follows is, without hesitation, the most gut-wrenching and nerve-wracking half-hour of anything I've ever seen. I spent the majority of that episode with my knees tucked into my chest on the verge of vomiting. The industrial musical score of the episode makes everything so much more unbearable. Every second, every moment that you are watching this brilliant, sneaky robbery play out is an indescribable combination of suspense and fear that never ceases until the episode is over.
The ending, however, is a different issue altogether. As soon as you think everything is over and they've successfully pulled off the coolest robbery in the history of cable television, fate comes riding in on a tiny motorbike. When Todd ("Friday Night Lights" alum Jesse Plemons) decides to react the way he does at the end of the episode, it negates every bit of what they had all been working to avoid. It also tarnishes all the memories of the Walt and Jesse that we've grown to know and watch develop over five season of glorious criminal television. It forces you, the viewer, to put your whole attitude of these characters into a different perspective. All humor is thrown of the window and you are hit with the hard reality that, in "Breaking Bad," as much as you would like for the leads to get away clean, they never will. As far as the law is concerned, sure they get away. But, as Jesse says in the beginning of the show, no matter how they may prosper, they will always be the bad guys. They may have succeeded in getting what they needed, but their lives are changed forever when one is lost under the unforgiving sun of the vast New Mexican desert. It is a troubling ending to an episode of television that will stay with me forever.
