2001 Hindsight

Toronto Star movie critic Geoff Pevere made headlines when he retracted his four-star rating for the 2001 version of Planet of the Apes. In his article detailing his decision, he made many insightful comments about the nature of film reviewing and the value of hindsight. In effect, he stated that it is unfortunate that reviewers for print media are called upon to pass judgment on a movie so soon after viewing it. The days and even weeks after watching a movie are valuable for careful evaluation of the work and of the writer's own opinions.

I started this website as an experiment in which I would simulate the experience of watching a movie and writing a review for it immediately afterward, just as print reviewers do. As a consequence, many of my reviews were written in a hurry, and I found myself lamenting that I had refined my opinions long after I had actually written the reviews. In several cases, my opinion of a movie got worse or better, but I wouldn't allow myself to go back and revise my reviews. After all, that was part of the experiment -- had I been working for a print media, the review that I wrote would be out there for the public to see and it would be too late to do anything about it.

However, because I know that I am not writing for a publication, I am allowing myself to break my own rules just this one time in the year. Here I present a retrospective of the movies that I have watched in 2001. It includes a Top 10 list, some ratings changes, and comments on the reasons for changing my mind.

I hope this doesn't imply that I am wishy-washy. Indeed, one of the skills I've been refining as this experiment goes on is my ability to more accurately substantiate my opinion of a film in a given short amount of time. I want my reviews to be as honest as possible in reflecting my views at the time that I write them. Let's just say that I hope next year's retrospective won't contain as many ratings changes.

However, as Pevere said, the value of hindsight can not be underestimated. And so, with that in mind, I'll start with my notable opinion adjustments.

Mulholland Drive (originally 5/10) - I have great contempt for the praising of a movie without the attempt to make some sense of it, and that was why the initial love heaped upon David Lynch's Mulholland Drive ticked me off. I felt that that's what the critics had done. Add this to my own experience of watching Lynch's television series "Twin Peaks" and the critical drubbing of his reportedly nonsensical movie Lost Highway, and I personally wanted to write off his latest movie as a pretentious pile of garbage. I was fascinated by the theories that attempted to make sense of the story, but became even more fascinated when those theories actually revealed how skillfully Lynch was able to use what he had -- a rejected pilot for an ABC television series with no particular direction in mind -- and resolve it with a heartbreaking picture of an actress's destroyed dreams. But was this what Lynch meant to do? Or was he just being random? I read more and more about what others thought of the movie, yet I still refused to change my mind on the matter, even though I admitted to myself that there were many things I liked about the film.

I've now determined that I was unfair to him. Recently I picked up an independent film magazine and read an interview with Lynch, who revealed the creative process he went through to complete Mulholland Drive. I was relieved to find out that he was indeed going for something, and that coming up with an ending to his pilot was one of the most exciting and challenging experiences he has had. It was the last straw that finally shattered my notions that this was just some pretentious auteur who had made his living by stringing audiences along with directionless stories that happened to feature great atmosphere. It is with a sigh and a smile that I upgrade my rating for this movie to a 7/10 -- it's still not perfect, and I'll never forgive Lynch for that ludicrous final scene with the tiny old people, but I look forward to watching this movie again one day to re-experience it.

Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within (originally 7/10) - The more I thought about it, the more annoyed I became at Hironobu Sakaguchi's abandonment of the elements that made his video games so good. As a result, Final Fantasy the movie played like a generic anime that happened to be computer-generated. Originally, I felt the good work in the animation was enough to justify giving it a 7/10 (which is my lowest rating for a recommendable movie), but not anymore. What made the difference? I played a little bit of "Final Fantasy IX," and that was enough to remind me what I really loved about the series: swords, magic, exotic lands, off-beat humor, and heroes and heroines who fight, grow, and learn together. None of these were in the movie. It gets a 6/10 -- no longer recommendable, but still held up by the good animation work.

Blow (originally 6/10) - What was I thinking? Here was a movie asking its audience to boo-hoo over the fate of a remarkably short-sighted yet lucky simpleton who committed a major sin on our country. I guess I liked the performances at that time. I think I also forgot what a good movie was and felt that this one came close. Well, not anymore. It's a 4/10.

Lara Croft: Tomb Raider (originally 4/10) - Here was a movie that lulled me to sleep so badly that I couldn't even come up with good reasons to dislike it. It took me a while to realize what its biggest weakness was -- the heroine is never really in any danger. I don't think there's more than one scene in the movie where we really feel Lara Croft has the chance of getting hurt, let alone killed. No wonder the action was so boring. There's plenty of other reasons to dislike this movie that I won't get into here. 3/10.

The Musketeer (originally 3/10) - In my review of this movie, I had nothing good to say about it other than, "Only the final battle among the falling ladders has any real sense of on-the-spot fun to it." That alone isn't worth two points above my lowest possible rating of 1/10. Therefore, I drop this stinker to 2/10. By the way, this officially makes The Musketeer the worst movie I've seen in 2001.

The following are some minor adjustments that would make little difference to most people but would allow me sleep a little better at night.

Two movies that seemed dumber the more I looked back to them: America's Sweethearts and Planet of the Apes. Sweethearts' jokes were embarassing, and Apes' story was lazy. I didn't hate either of the films, but neither did I think they were as good as other movies I had given a 6/10 to. I've dropped them to a 5/10.

Two other movies that I went too easy on: Sweet November and The Wedding Planner. Both benefitted from the fact that I was new at this reviewing business, and I was trying to give whatever I saw more than a fair chance. As a result, they got 4/10 each. Looking back, both of these movies don't deserve more than a 3/10, my rating for a solidly bad movie.

That's it for the adjustments. I now list my Top 10 movies of 2001.

1. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
The best thing about Fellowship is how Peter Jackson was allowed to stick to his vision for the movie instead of making it a generic please-the-fans blockbuster. Jackson believed strongly in the work and took Tolkien's fantasy world very seriously. As a result of the care and love he and his cast and crew have put in to this project, things could not have worked out better. As drama, Fellowship is respectable in its portrayal of characters who must muster up the courage to bear enormous responsibility and resist the temptations of evil. As action/adventure, its chase and fight sequences leave the audience breathless. As fantasy, it brings dignity back to a dying genre that had become far too occupied with making stuff up for the sake of making stuff up. As a book adaptation, it is skillful in incorporating the right changes for the purposes of making a memorable movie. Jackson and company have created a triumph in the face of nitpicky fans, critical moviegoers, and years of naysaying echoing the words, "It couldn't be done." Well, they did it, and have likely created the definitive movie version of The Lord of the Rings for decades to come. I haven't been this enthralled with a movie in a long long time. I felt like a kid again. I still can't wait for Part Two. 10/10.

2. Memento
Memento works because its incredibly well-directed gimmick of having portions of the story told in reverse chronology isn't just a gimmick. It is essential in allowing the audience to experience the disorienting nature of the main character's condition. I was utterly blown away by the skill with which Christopher Nolan handled his tricky, weaving narrative. Each new section, transitioning from black-and-white to color and back again, had me salivating for the next revelation. The final revelation is the most disturbing and profound of all, making a statement about the way we delude ourselves to give purpose to each of our lives. This movie nearly beat The Lord of the Rings for my number one spot. In all fairness, they should be tied. 10/10.

3. In the Bedroom
This portrayal of one death and its aftermath resonates deeply within me. It is the most honest, grueling, and painful study of how the loss of someone we love, especially by murder, would affect us. Its ending is the depiction of a fantasy -- a wish-fulfillment, along with its own unsettling aftermath. A complex movie which also includes the politics of love and marriage, In the Bedroom was not easy for me to watch, but it is worth recalling the next time I'm about to casually dismiss an everyday blurb about a homocide while reading the news. 10/10.

4. Monsters, Inc.
Any group of people who constantly reach the high standard they set up for themselves must be applauded. With every new movie, Pixar shows that it can live up to the high reputation it gave itself when it released Toy Story. Monsters, Inc., directed by one of Pixar's head writers, Pete Docter, is a delightful show, hilarious at times, thrilling at others, with a story about overcoming irrational fear with love and understanding at its heart. It is perfect from start to finish. 10/10.

5. Moulin Rouge
I nearly knew what to expect from this movie through its trailers, but it wasn't enough to prepare me for Baz Luhrmann's all-out musical ode and personal farewell to naive love. My senses were overloaded, but I loved it. Luhrmann puts melodrama, pop music, and his heart fully on display, come what may, and I admire his creative audacity. Few other movies made me so happy just to be in a theater viewing it -- so happy that it was the only movie I saw twice in the theaters this year. 9/10 -- it still misses a point for what I detect as a disconnect between the main plot and the consumption sub-plot, but the rest of it is lovably spectacular.

6. The Royal Tenenbaums
I failed to mention in my review of The Royal Tenenbaums how strongly the double-edgedness of its sword connects with its audience. The construct of the movie is as a comedy, with strange characters, well-placed gags, and an effortless comedic turn from Gene Hackman. But when we're done laughing, we realize that its exaggerated portrayal of a dysfunctional family and its individual relationships mirrors many of our own. A family may be seen as a distinct group of people, but within it the members are as different as they could be in any other grouping; the main distinction of a family is that, by blood, this particular group of disassociated people are forced to somehow get along. Wes Anderson makes the trials of the Tenenbaum family simultaneously hilarious and touching; at the same time, he shows how Royal learns to appreciate the fact that there is a group of people out there to whom he is bound. I also particularly liked how the movie was presented as a storybook. 9/10 -- still disturbed by how graphic the suicide attempt scene was.

7. Black Hawk Down
Here is a movie that concurs with me about the reality of modern war. It may be declared by despots, presidents, and all kinds of governments, but ultimately it is fought on the battlefield with humans who aren't thinking about political disputes or humanitarian causes. They only care about surviving by blowing away the enemy. It also examines (although, I suspect, unwittingly) the strange paradoxical nature of the way the U.S. values the lives and honor of its soldiers at the cost of effective military strategy. Outside of this, it's one hell of a tense action picture. 9/10 -- producer Jerry Bruckheimer's cheerleading and director Ridley Scott's lack of subtlety sporadically mar the proceedings.

8. Waking Life
Nevermind the pre-dominant debate of this movie over whether the psycho-babble it presented engaged you or not. It is what it is: a dreamlike litany of philosophies on existence presented in a perfect style of animation, and a dreamlike style of animation utilized to fittingly present philosophies on existence. The subject matter and the medium go so well together that the result is a thing of beauty. Richard Linklater's animation team perfectly captures the shifting state of dreams. No other movie has done so well to bring me to that realm of loneliness and contemplation that I often feel so comfortable in. 9/10 -- an obviously subjective scene with a gun in an otherwise objective movie momentarily knocked me out of its luscious dream state; Linklater's speech as the final word also has the feel of unnecessarily displacing objectivity.

9. Ghost World
The disaffected teenager is often stereotyped in TV and the movies, presented as either a hero who sees through the crap in mainstream culture, or a loser who should just learn to lighten up a little. Very rarely do the portrayals present such a person as both -- an ultimately well-rounded character. I simultaneously root for and resent such people, so it was with great satisfaction that I found myself doing the same for Enid, the protagonist in Terry Zwigoff's Ghost World. The character felt real, imperfect yet strong, obstinate yet in need of an adjustment to the realities of life. The movie is a wake-up call to the Enids of the world, but at the same time doesn't suggest the abandonment of their principles. All-in-all, a deft balancing act which gets a 9/10 -- I wished Steve Buscemi's character had a better resolution at the end of the movie.

10. Training Day
Big, bad, bold, and over-the-top, Training Day is Hollywood's scary yet familiar version of the dangerous streets of L.A. Antoine Fuqua's painting of the urban Jungle fully realizes my nightmares of the places I would never find myself driving in. He uses the opportunity to tell a story that beseeches us to never lose sight of what we think is right. Training Day was scripted by David Ayer; its depiction of L.A. as a place I feel I can recognize was mirrored in another movie that he helped to pen -- The Fast and the Furious. Exaggerated as the depictions were, they're closer to the ethnic southern California world I know than any scenes involving sun, palm trees, beaches, and the Hollywood sign. 9/10 -- final act is a little too over-the-top, even for this movie.

Very nearly making my Top 10 are Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, which is Kevin Smith's simultaneous flip-off to his critics and thank-you valentine to his loyal fans, and Steven Spielberg's much-maligned A.I.: Artificial Intelligence. Smith's work made me laugh more than any other movie this year; Spielberg's work got under my skin and made me question the one thing I've always believed was solely human -- love.

That's it for 2001. I look forward to another year of movie exploring in 2002.

©Jeffrey Chen, Jan. 13, 2002

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