1. The Wrestler
Darren Aronofskyâs devastating look at the final days of a small-time wrestler shapes up as one of those only-in-America portraits anchored by a career-defining performance â like De Niro in Raging Bull or Brando in On the Waterfront. No one but Mickey Rourke could have embodied this tragic soul, a battered but proud fighter who refuses to quit the ring, even after a heart attack lays him low. âThe only place I get hurt is out here,â he says before stepping back into the fray. âThe world donât give a shit.â Not to get all arty on ya, but this instant classic just goes to prove the influence of the Dardenne brothers (LâEnfant) on independent cinemaâs neo-neorealist movement. Aronofsky embraces not just their style â the camera literally shadows Rourkeâs character, Randy, training our gaze on the back of his peroxide-bleached mane as he stumbles through his daily routine â but also the substance of their approach. Despite that small dose of fame his wrestling career provides, heâs clinging for dear life to his lower-middle-class rung on the social ladder. The movie passes no judgments as it follows Randy home to his trailer or around the corner to the strip bar where he buys time with would-be love interest Marisa Tomei one lap dance at a time. A colleague who wasnât as impressed with the film dismissed it as another 8 Mile, but he missed the point; this isnât an underdog-makes-good story, but a genuine human tragedy.
2. Summer Hours
No Western filmmaker is better attuned to the business of everyday life than Olivier Assayas, and in Summer Hours, the French director abandons his bonus obsessions with gunplay and sexual perversion to study three siblings coping with the death of their mother. Itâs a perfectly ordinary story, raised to the level of poetry, as eldest son Charles Berling fights to preserve the family art collection, while sister Juliette Binoche and younger brother Jeremie Renier argue to liquidate the estate. Like Hou Hsiao-hsienâs Flight of the Red Balloon, the film was commissioned by
3. Kisses
4. Hunger
Thereâs nothing like grabbing a jumbo popcorn and settling into your seat to watch an IRA radical starve himself to death onscreen. Regardless of how you feel about Hungerâs terrorist heroes, British video artist Steve McQueenâs first feature recreates a historical act of defiance so deeply charged with emotion, itâs impossible to be ambivalent about the result â that would be Bobby Sandsâ six-week hunger strike for political prisonersâ rights. True to his background, McQueen eschews conventional dramatic tricks for an unforgettable, intensely subjective approach, much as art-world contemporary Julian Schnabel did with last yearâs Diving Bell and the Butterfly.
5. Iâve Loved You So Long
Somethingâs not quite right with Kristin Scott Thomasâ Juliette when her younger sister picks her up from the airport. Theyâve been separated from one another for years, but the movie is slow to reveal why, and by the time the explanation arrives, we sympathize with Juliette enough to look past the reason for her exile. Directed by Philippe Claudel and featuring a remarkable French-language turn by Thomas, this intimate family drama lasers in on the fragile process of rebuilding a life blown off-course (if only the film had the courage not to let her off so easily in its final scenes).
6. Revanche
As much as I love the Coen brothers, they blew it this time around with numbskull
7. RocknRolla
Guy Ritchie is back to his old tricks, delivering another Snatch-tastic glimpse into the
8. Waltz With Bashir
A further reminder that animated films neednât be pitched at kids to be effective, this philosophical exploration of warâs mental toll simply couldnât have been told in any other format. Mixing documentary interviews with the directorâs old Israeli Army buddies and cartoon recreations of their military service, director Ari Folman attempts to make sense of his memories (or startling lack thereof) from the 1982 invasion of Lebanon. Was he somehow complicit in the massacre of Palestinian refugees? Has he suppressed his involvement out of guilt? The dreamlike medium of animation seems uniquely suited to Folmanâs captivating nightmare.
9. Me and Orson Welles
Richard Linklaterâs latest imagines what it must have been like for the young high school student tapped to appear in Orson Wellesâ revolutionary Broadway production of Julius Caesar â not an especially commercial premise, which is probably why the director agreed to cast Zac Efron as the lucky young thespian (a concession that in turn allowed him to pick the perfect actor to play young Welles, newcomer Christian McKay). Efron brings little more than his doll-faced good looks to the role, though the story itself offers a fascinating behind-the-scenes peek into the mind of a dramatic visionary â vanity, hubris and all.
10. Nick & Norahâs Infinite Playlist
Juno set the bar awfully high for hipper-than-thou romantic comedies, and while screenwriter Lorene Scarafia is no Diablo Cody, her adaptation of the popular YA novel is less interested in waxing clever than capturing the appropriate voice for each of its characters. If their shared taste in music is any indication, Nick (played by Michael Cera) and Norah (The 40-Year-Old Virginâs Kat Dennings) are perfect soulmates, but fate, the Big Apple and jealous exes seem determined to keep them apart. Cutesy details, like Nickâs yellow Yugo, sometimes get in the way, but you canât help rooting for the pair to end up together.