10. The Help - Sure, the surprise hit from the end of summer isn't high art, but Tate Taylor's straightforward adaptation of Katherine Stockett's bestselling novel has maybe the best ensemble of the year; it also balances strong comedy with perfectly executed emotion. The Help features my favorite single performance of the year, in Viola Davis. It's rare that a performance on screen can genuinely make my heart race, but Davis puts her entire being into Aibileen. Her eyes alone overwhelm.
9. Martha Marcy May Marelene - Elizabeth Olsen brings edge to this exploration of life inside a cult, as does the sharp direction by Sean Durkin (expanding his own short). Durkin frames every single shot with mounting tension and confusion; a fight between Martha and her older sister towards the end of the film is framed with such horror that I barely remember what the two characters were saying to one another. In the year of ambiguous indie endings, MMMM takes the cake. Terrifying, in the best possible way.
8. War Horse - The first of three films on my list that are drenched in cinematic nostalgia, Spielberg crafts this sweeping war epic like the giant movies of the 1930s and 40s; unapologetically melodramatic, sweetly sentimental, and with a final scene that explicit references the lush cinematography of Gone with the Wind, Spielberg improves upon the lauded (and overrated) stage adaptation; the master director also proves that Hollywood just doesn't make 'em like they used to.
7. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo - It's impossible not to judge this movie based on comparison. Fincher lends his mastery of cold dread to the American adaptation of Stieg Larsson's famous Swedish thriller, and improves with stylish flair upon the blunt force utilized in the Swedish film adaptation (just look at the new opening credits sequence). Fincher also finds the heart of Larsson's books, and therefore this film, in his interpretation of Lisbeth Salander. Rooney Mara catapults into the A-list with her raw performance, mining both Salander's hard edge and hidden vulnerability.
6. Drive - Ryan Gosling creating a mythic, near-silent character? With the neo-superhero "costume" of a white bomber jacket embossed with a scorpion? Featuring the best soundtrack of the year, and quasi-European art house echoes of Quentin Tarantino? Possibly the only release from 2011 in which I would applaud the news of a sequel.
5. Shame - I'm a sucker for both director Steve McQueen and Michael Fassbender. Sorry. Stick a couple of extended takes with minimal camera trickery in your film and you automatically make my list! While the film's reputation may have become more famous than the film itself, with the NC-17 rating and full frontal male nudity, McQueen + Fassbender have put together the most interesting character study of the year. The sex in Shame isn't fun, or sexy; it's frightening, embarrassing, devastating. Fassbender, after a breakout year of multiple performances rivaled only by Jessica Chastain, cements his status as the most forceful new male talent in Hollywood. I also think this plays as an interesting conversation piece alongside Drive, if you ever feel like grabbing coffee and rambling with me about weird things and letting me waste more of your time.
4. The Artist - Or, The Little Movie That Could. Who knew a black and white film, relishing in its replication the film techniques of the silent era, could not only be the Oscar frontrunner, but could also be a charming hit? I think the film would bump up a few slots if the second act was 10-15 minutes shorter, but it is impossible to resist this film's charm and unburdened narrative techniques. The Artist revels in the way we tell stories on the silver screen, the pure joy of moviemaking; it's nice to remember why we come to the movies in the first place.
3. A Separation - Everything I wanted from The Descendants arrived, rather unceremoniously, in this wildly accessible Iranian drama; a mundane depiction of a crumbling marriage rapidly transforms into a legal thriller of muddled lies and the quietest of human relationships. Every moment is depicted in shades of grey, ambiguities pushed into infirm proclamations. Frustratingly honest, A Separation manages to plant itself firmly in Iranian culture while also grappling with universal themes - family, generational divide, gender wars, feminist uprising, the loss of machismo, religion, class, independence, the definition of honest. I haven't seen a film in a long time that juggles such complicated emotional entanglements on so many planes.
2. Hugo 3D - Martin Scorsese's love letter to childhood wonder and the cinematic magic is the third film on my list that harkens back to a different generation of filmmaking, and my favorite from 2011. Cut through again with nostalgia and simply storytelling, Scorsese's adaptation embeds its plot with gorgeously restored Georges Méliès films, and a sense of gleeful restraint that Scorsese almost never utilizes. I included 3D in the title because this is the greatest use of the "new" technology I have ever seen, besting even Avatar; if possible, pay the extra money to see this wonder in a movie theater. Scorsese uses the form to breathtaking effect, painting deep Parisian cityscapes while adding a playful sense of innocent fantasy to every shot.
1. The Tree of Life - This choice might finally cement my status as a crazy pretentious asshole, but I've been called worse. I certainly don't think Terrence Malick's polarizing film is a perfect piece of art (dinosaurs?), but it is definitely a piece of art; nothing in 2011 rivaled Malick's ambition and scope, or lodged itself so deeply in my brain and heart. After this film's (awkward) mid-summer release, I kept waiting for something to wow me on the same level. Tree of Life is my favorite film of the year because it not only made me question the many layers of my own life, but it also made me question what we can accomplish with filmmaking. Tree of Life straddles the cosmic and the intimate, shared experience with the singular. It's not for everyone, but I do think everyone should at least try to sit through Malick's vision if the mood is right. Featuring one of Brad Pitt's best performances ever, Malick uses film as poetry to form a disjointed narrative that cares more about clarity of emotion than clarity of narrative. Malick is a visionary director. Even with those dinosaurs.
