27 December 2000

5. GLADIATOR

Seven months ago, I came up with the Gladiator Pop Quiz, which pointed out a handful of the many plot holes that ran through Gladiator. There is no question: Ridley Scott is one of our great visual directors, capable of making films that are both beautiful and thoughtful and not just exercises in craft. Craft is in ample supply in Gladiator. But what is the film, at its core? A simplistic revenge drama that can be told pretty completely in the classic "25 words or less" of a Hollywood pitch.

So, what is Gladiator doing as an Oscar favorite? Well, The Patriot and The Perfect Storm are really the only two other movies anywhere near the size of Gladiator and neither worked as well as a summer entertainment. The Academy loves big, epic films. And so, this may be the one.

4. O BROTHER, WHERE ART THOU?

Won’t they ever learn?

The Coen Bros. have been slammed by the critics first thing out on pretty much every film except Fargo. And yet critics keep putting themselves out there on the limb, questioning the validity of the Coens’ choices, even while they should remember that they didn’t really connect with the other Coen Bros.’ films until screening four or five. The Big Lebowski got chilly to lukewarm reviews, but in a short time, it’s become one of the most quoted films of the last decade. ("Say what you like about the tenets of National Socialism, Dude, at least it’s an ethos.")

And as the critics go, so goes Disney’s effort to get this film out there. They haven’t dumped the film, but they aren’t exactly selling it as if it were a sequel to The Sixth Sense either.

O Brother is as weird a Coen Bros. movie as there has ever been. But there are already moments and images that are burnt into my brain and that come to mind when I least expect it, and I saw the film more than a month ago.

3. STATE AND MAIN

It’s funny. It’s clever. It’s sooooo coastal that anyone who isn’t in the business is likely to find it a big ol’ yawn.

What would make anyone talk about State and Main as an Oscar movie? The movie is loaded with great actors, but none of them do anything remotely exceptional in light of their other work. The message is simply that David Mamet hates Hollywood. Tough call. In the film within the film, the main actor is a pig; the actress is a dumb slut except when it comes to her payday; the writer whines; and the director tries to keep it all together, using whatever guile is necessary. There are funny lines, but nowhere near the toughness of Blake Edwards’s great film S.O.B. (which stands for Standard Operational Bulls**t) or the sweet truthfulness of Preston Sturges’s Sullivan’s Travels.

So, should State and Main have to reach the stratosphere of the Edwards and Sturges films in order to be worthy? To be worthy of the praise it is getting, yes.

2. BAMBOOZLED

There are a lot of things wrong with this Spike Lee Joint. But the film pushes the envelope in ways that few filmmakers would dare. You can’t really disagree with the film overall, because Lee presents arguments from so many disparate positions that it’s impossible to tag the director with anything other than hating blacks, whites, and everyone in between when they participate in behavior with which he disagrees.

So why was there such outrage from critics who usually embrace any filmmakers’ efforts to engage in conversations that seem to be beyond conversation? And why didn’t New Line get behind the film with a bigger push?

Lee may have succeeded more in being a rabble-rouser than a brilliant filmmaker here. But he got strong performances from his actors and he pushed every button you can push. No studio film released this year was more of a conversation starter, yet the film was allowed to fade slowly into the ether. A damned shame.

1. DANCER IN THE DARK

I suppose I am playing into the hands of those who want to tell me that I don’t "get" Dancer in the Dark by putting it on the list of movies I didn’t "get." But I understand this movie. I just don’t get why any of my critical colleagues have allowed this exercise in being different to be held up as example of anything more.

Dancer in the Dark is the Gladiator of art films. As an art film, it hits all the notes that it is supposed to: the subject is dark; the style is, well, a style; the tone is pretentious and tortured; and it is one-of-a-kind (let’s hope). But when you add up all the elements, you get a paint-by-numbers Kandinsky, with the scent of genius, but in shades of paint, chosen by the offending new painter, to make the work "more" challenging than the original.

My confusion is that there is a clear disconnect between my opinion and some others. I see Warhol’s contribution to art, for better or worse. I get Basquiat. But I see Keith Haring as a well-marketed joke, not an artist. May his soul rest is heaven, but I have yet to find a convincing argument that he brought anything to the party except reflective images that sold like a Benetton ad or an Old Navy kitsch pitch.

Dancer in the Dark is overt enough to take a blind, deaf mute on its intended journey, with flares going off to tell you how to feel as clearly as any movie ad campaign ever made. And the reviews I’ve read seem to reflect that path. Joan of Arc taking on the Steve Martin/Bob Hoskins role in Pennies from Heaven is an interesting idea, loaded with possibilities. And Lars von Trier manages to exploit every... no, just one.

HOLIDAY SCHEDULE:
Wednesday, 12/27 - Top Ten Movies I Just Don't Get
Thursday, 12/28 - The Worst Ten of 2000
Friday, 12/29 - The Best Ten Films of 2000
Weekend, 12/30 - New Year's Resolutions
Tuesday, 1/2/01 - Hot Button 2001 begins