043. Kismet

043. (30 Jan) Kismet (1944, William Dieterle) 18



I have a decidedly low tolerance for these '40s forays into exoticism, full of tanned white actors and soundstages that all run together. Especially odd is how Kismet is about as dull as an adventure in a foreign land gets. Marlene Dietrich occasionally breathes life into this, like during an endless dance sequence, but she's not given much to do. The cinematography is vibrant and the score tries to make this more rousing than it is; those are both worthy Oscar nominations. The nods for art direction and sound are totally unnecessary.

311. Les Miserables

311. (15 Dec) Les Miserables (2012, Tom Hooper)* 28



Midway through act two, Hugh Jackman and Eddie Redmayne quite literally are up to their necks in fecal matter. That Les Miserables willfully offers that metaphor makes it the ballsiest or most clueless film of the year. Considering how dreadful it is, I'm leaning toward the latter.

There's not an iota of scale in Les Miserables, with roughly four wide shots that so much as hint that this is a historical epic in its entire bloated runtime. Just like in The King's Speech, Tom Hooper's amateurish aesthetic undermines every moment. Here he's as reliant on dutch angles as he is on dopey framing, keeping heads in the corner of a shot while negative space dominates the background. It's one of the worst photographed major studio films I've seen. But there's simply not much to work with since the sets and costumes are decidedly unremarkable. When Les Miz is not irritating to look at, it's boring.

Tom Hooper's direction is astoundingly misguided. Without dialogue, he relies on the score to tell the story. Unfortunately, only five musical numbers are at all good. Most of the talk-singing is instantly forgettable (namely the added and useless tune "Suddenly"). The nasally Hugh Jackman and overly emotive Samantha Barks are shameful standouts in the cast. Russell Crowe channels Pierce Brosnan in Mamma Mia! Eddie Redmayne and Amanda Seyfriend, without a hint of romantic chemistry, are wasted vocal talents. The much discussed Anne Hathaway is the only performer to give emotional impact to the film at all, overplaying her part, but at least not embarrassing herself in an intense close-up during "I Dreamed a Dream."

Hooper has suggested he attempted to emulate West Side Story, at least during "One More Day," which shows how ambitious and incompetent he is. His shoddily edited film not only is totally incoherent, unmoving, and uninteresting, it's laughable. Crowe's biggest dramatic moment is the most obvious joke, but it's impossible to enumerate the goofs in a film where next to nothing works. Empty heads and empty filmmaking.

280. Life of Pi

280. (20 Nov) Life of Pi (2012, Ang Lee)* 49



Ang Lee regresses with Life of Pi, exploring his trademark themes of repression and grief in a most literal sense. Even his obvious fades and a reliance on cheap imagery like a slow teardrop streaming down someone's face suggest the aesthetic of a director less developed than Lee. Claudio Miranda's cinematography and the visual effects are undeniably stunning, but they serve a narrative that's never emotionally involving or particularly interesting. David Magee's screenplay is a redundancy since he employed all the same tricks, to similarly hackish effect, in Finding Neverland. The ending serves as a ten-minute third act, dissolving all enchantment away from Life of Pi once and for all.

272. Skyfall

272. (11 Nov) Skyfall (2012, Sam Mendes)* 52



There's been enough written about Skyfall's nonsensical plot that my concerns need not be enumerated. However fun Javier Bardem's villainous turn may be, he could scarcely have had a more preposterous revenge plot concocted. Fortunately, that opens things up for the enjoyable opening chase and a colorful, brilliantly photographed sequence in Shanghai. They're high points in a film that's mostly frivolous and amusing, even if this franchise gets all the more self-serious. We're three films into the Daniel Craig era of Bond and still debating the relevancy of secret agents?

268. Lincoln

268. (10 Nov) Lincoln (2012, Steven Spielberg)* 51



With their decisively titled Lincoln, Spielberg and company have invited the expectation that this will be the definitive film about the man's life and work. This is no sweeping biopic, however, as it narrowly focuses on his efforts to get the 13th Amendment through the House of Representatives. The confinement in time, along with Tony Kushner's careful selections of scenes, the right dramatic moments, and a surprising amount of humor keep this reined in. But other than a superb performance from Daniel Day-Lewis, this in no other way lives up to an overly ambitious title.

Spielberg attempts to play silly tricks on us, trying to draw suspense out of the final House of Representatives vote, for instance, which plays like we're watching C-SPAN more than anything else. A far more questionable decision comes when we're misled into thinking we're at Ford's Theater at the moment of assassination when in fact we're at another theater entirely.

Kushner understandably has to inject expository dialogue here and there, but it's often shockingly clumsy. Scenes with Sally Field, as a thoroughly unconvincing Mary Todd Lincoln, are full of bits where she explains something that's happened in years past, from her buggy accident to the death of their son. It places on undue burden on Field, who has to enlighten us on critical history that would be far more compelling if it had played out on-screen.

The cast is a mixed bag. Tommy Lee Jones and Lee Pace are the strongest scene stealers. Many smaller roles are downright distracting, notably appearances by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Adam Driver and S. Epatha Merkerson. Work by Michael Stuhlburg and Walton Goggins is shamefully lacking in nuance.

To Lincoln's credit, the film mostly make efforts not to be too much a revisionist history. Only a dopey moment where Mary Todd and Abraham chat about how history will remember them, near the film's end, feels totally unnecessary. Injecting African-American characters into a story that might otherwise have only been about white people granting equality is also well-advised.

In terms of crafts, Janusz Kaminski's cinematography looks like something you'd see on the History Channel. A handful of sets stand out, but the costumes are wholly unremarkable. John Williams has composed a subdued score that reminds me just how shameless and boisterous his work on War Horse was.

247. Argo

247. (13 Oct) Argo (2012, Ben Affleck)* 76



Ben Affleck continues to be one of the most consistent, exciting directors working today with Argo. Though this tense, taut thriller plays exquisitely throughout, it's hard not to relish the details. From the old Warner Bros. logo that opens the film to the outstanding production design to an ensemble all but destined to win a SAG Award, Affleck manages to barely falter in a film precariously straddling genres. The comedic bits set in Los Angeles are admittedly very funny, but some of that scripting is too on-the-nose in a way that's not in keeping with the more organic feel of the thriller segments. Alan Arkin's crowd-pleasing performance is especially out of step with the powerful work of the Houseguests. All the plots wrap up a little too tidily, as well, but it's too satisfying to matter much.

143. The Abyss

143. (29 Jul) /The Abyss/ (1989, James Cameron) 79



As anxiety-producing as ever, The Abyss has such fantastic set-up and payoffs, it's hard not to appreciate it just for its scripting. But it's the visceral intensity that makes this such a singular experience. How Mikael Salomon didn't win an Oscar for his cinematography continues to astound me.

131. Two Tickets to Broadway

131. (07 Jul) Two Tickets to Broadway (1951, James V. Kern) 35

It takes nearly fifty minutes before Two Tickets to Broadway reveals it's a "let's put on a show" musical. In the meantime, it introduces a too large cast of amiable characters that sing a handful of instantly forgettable easy-listening tunes intended to slowly progress a thin as paper plot. Much of the last half of the film is watching a television special full of lavish production numbers play out. They're downright dull with the except of "Big Chief Hole-in-the-Ground," a patently offensive number that couldn't possibly have aged worse over the decades. The Best Sound nomination is unremarkable; there's some rain, tap dancing and infinite amounts of singing.

068. Voice in the Wind

067. (26 Feb) Voice in the Wind (1944, Arthur Ripley) 25



A test case, I suppose, of whether or not a film can sustain on endless scenes of piano playing or listening. Unsurprisingly, it can't. If Voice in the Wind's structure was well-ordered and the melodrama played more sincerely, there might be something to laud here. As it stands, it's rather exhaustingly awful.

The Original Score nomination makes sense. At the film's center is a pianist who plays rousing, if forgettable melodies. The music lacks a memorable theme. It also isn't helpful that this underscores an outright dull film. The Sound nomination is actively bad; the film consists almost entirely of pounding music and poorly recorded dialogue.

060. Transformers: Dark of the Moon

060. (19 Feb) Transformers: Dark of the Moon (2011, Michael Bay) 38



Michael Bay's ability to establish space and time is as weak as ever. It's apparent there are a handful of major scripted, loosely connected plot points that have to be tied together by any means necessary. Bay's method is fading to black and using a handful of establishing shots in places where there should've been considerable set-up, most notable in the Chicago-set finale. That's almost completely sprung on us with no clear lead-in.

Plot, of course, is scarcely why Bay's movies are so popular. His action sequences remain exhilirating, particularly a freeway chase and a mind-blowing few minutes in a collapsing skyscraper. In a just world, these would be enough to lock the film down as the Oscar winner for Best Visual Effects. (The first Transformers losing that honor and the second being snubbed altogether is rather shameful.)

Other nominations for Sound Mixing and Sound Editing are clearly well-earned. That Chicago finale has some outright spectacular sound. Incoherent as the story may be, there's a remarkable cohesion in the sound design that ties the films together. Were it not for the noise and glossy appearance, this would be totally intolerable.

Suggesting just how troubled this installment is, Patrick Dempsey is the only performer who comes across at all well. He's a surprisingly accomplished villain and is the first actor I've seen in a Bay movie in quite some time that made any kind of positive impression. Ken Jeong is positively deadly. Josh Duhamel is criminally underused. Shia LaBeouf continues to offer nothing while I'd take Megan Fox over Rosie Huntington-Whiteley any day.

059. Sunrise at Campobello

059. (19 Feb) Sunrise at Campobello (1960, Vincent J. Donehue) 36



Vincent J. Donehue seems painfully reverential toward his Broadway staging of Sunrise at Campobello. FDR's battle against polio as he pursues politics is far less dramatically compelling than you'd think. The problem's amplified because the film very rarely feels cinematic, confining itself to flat-looking interiors while all the performers shamelessly chew the scenery.

Ralph Bellamy and Hume Cronyn are in especially bad form, boisterously enunciating like they're trying to be heard in the last row of the theater. Greer Garson seems more comfortable, though her voice and prosthetic teeth never seem less than gimmicky. She has a powerhouse crying scene at a pivotal point in the film, giving her an impressive Oscar clip in an otherwise middling performance.

The Art Direction and Costume Design nods are a bit strange (though some others from 1960 are as wacky) since this monochromatic 1920s look has rarely looked so dull. The Sound nomination is insane; there's almost nothing here beyond dialogue.

054. Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace

054. (18 Feb) /Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace/ (1999, George Lucas) 52



My rating for this film seems to take a tumble with each viewing. There's really nothing I didn't cover when I watched this about a year ago. Frankly, the film gets worse with each viewing. The film's shiny sequences really don't go together whatsoever. The Mr. Plinkett review and his DVD commentary certainly make watching this more fun.

490. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

490. (08 Dec) The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011, David Fincher)* 74

478. War Horse

478. (24 Nov) War Horse (2011, Steven Spielberg)* 44



In its first act, it seems War Horse is trying to look and feel like a '40s countryside drama in the vein of Lassie Come Home. There are obligatory elements like an animal that can't be kept and a farm that's at risk of being lost. But where a '40s film like The Yearling would've matched glossiness with emotional impact, War Horse is more tonally akin to a '70s Disney feature. It slides in utterly surreal comic relief like a goose that nips at people's heels while it should be fleshing out characters.

The fundamental failing of the film -- aside from the plot being so incidental and uninteresting -- is that it never allows us to forge relationships with the characters. The horse is the only constant in the film. People come and go from his life. Tom Hiddleston has the most thankless role of all as an English officer who dies before we get even the faintest hint of his backstory. Spielberg's inability to contextualize the death of a significant supporting character at the start of a war is disturbing, and he does it at least a couple more times throughout the course of the film.

The only series of scenes not centered around the horse is where Jeremy Irvine, who trained has an unhealthy attachment to him, is his brief stint in the war where he sees a little bit of combat before being blinded by gas. Neither he nor any other human in the film gains insight into the hardship of war. The very final shot has the horse staring off into the sunset after returning home. It's a totally bizarre closing shot, as the lessons of war's cruelty have all been learned by the horse and not the humans. That might be impactful if this was an animated film where the horse can talk and pontificate, but there are enormous battle sequences and lives lost. It's a bit too serious to not articulate any big themes.

The inevitable conclusion where the boy and his horse are reunited is unabashedly contrived and manipulative. Oscar voters are sure to weep at the silly moment, but I was too exhausted from the preceding and present ridiculousness to care.

The cast is, not surprisingly, totally wasted. No one comes close to making an impression except Emily Watson. She's acting in a more serious, involving movie than everybody else.

The crafts are almost shockingly unremarkable. The cinematography is lacking as the film is supposed to have scope, but there's no memorable imagery to be found. John Williams' score is perhaps his most pounding and dreadful. He emphasizes every little aciton and movement, determined to turn this dull film into something exciting through sheer will. It will likely dominate the craft awards at the Oscars, but I've seen Spielberg do these exact same battles on a grander, more effective scale.

455. Hugo

455. (05 Nov) Hugo (2011, Martin Scorsese)* 57



There are moments of fun and whimsy here that suggest Scorsese doing a kid's movie was not a total misfire. But the film itself can be deadly dull, making it unsuitable for younger viewers. It's also hard to believe they'd enjoy the last act's ode to Georges Melies. Broad supporting characters and their distracting subplots really derail the film. (A train in a dream within a dream literally derails around the same point the film itself does.) When an obligatory chase scene takes place late in the film, it's clear this has outstayed its welcome. Nevertheless, the crafts are lovely and Ben Kingsley is quite good.

422. Moneyball

422. (24 Sep) Moneyball (2011, Bennett Miller)* 74



With zingers clearly written by Aaron Sorkin and under Bennett Miller's intensely focused direction, Moneyball's clearest fault is its tendency to be too on the nose. Nevertheless, it's captivating filmmaking that defies sports genre cliches. (It's a novelty that Moneyball is about an underdog team that's poised to defy all the odds, but doesn't actually go the distance.) Unlike most films integrating sports or new footage, Miller isn't reliant on them. Instead, he sustains tension or lets us off the hook to craft a bona fide crowd-pleaser. Brad Pitt and Chris Pratt give the film's most accomplished performances.