By Neil Davey
Despite the usual doom and gloom merchants writing 2006 off as a less than satisfactory year, there have been some moments of considerable quality. And, call me an eternal optimist, but there seem to be more over all than previous years. Whether that’s an age-related softening of my cynical side remains to be seen. According to the wife however — who points accusingly at me during episodes of Grumpy Old Men — it is highly unlikely. It’s equally doubtful though that the range of good movies that haven’t made this list — Little Miss Sunshine , Scorsese’s blistering The Departed, Stranger Than Fiction, the utterly charming Little Manhattan, the subtly moving The Squid and The Whale — are an indication that Hollywood and its international equivalents have raised their game. Sadly, experience has shown it will not last. Chances are that 2007 will see a return to the usual Top Seven or Eight rather than the full Ten below. It’s just been a good year — which, ironically, is also the name of the worst film of the year. So go figure. And so, in no particular order...
Brick
The tale of a murder investigation against the backdrop of a high school sounds unpromising yet Brick delivered in spades. In Sam Spades, probably. It lingered long in the mind, provided film noir with a hefty boot to the genre, did it all with a nod to its wide range of source material — Donnie Darko to Chinatown, via the darkest of David Lynch — and yet remained a genuine original. A hip, smart and menacing delight.
Bee Season
Ah, the unfashionable choice — and the one that’s caused more abuse than any other title on the list. Like the equally divisive I Heart Huckabees before it, Bee Season built its plot — in this instance, a little girl discovers a talent for spelling bees — around much greater themes. For Huckabees, it was philosophy. For Bee Season, it was religion. A subtle, involving, deeply intelligent discourse into the nature of belief. I know I said this list had no particular order, but this is the film of the year. Rent it now, keep an open mind, and tell me I’m wrong. I dare you...
Munich
Steven Spielberg’s intelligent analysis of the reaction to the Black September incident at the 1972 Olympics was another film that lingered long after the end credits. After the deaths of 11 Israeli hostages, the government demanded retribution and assembled a team to hunt down and assassinate the men they believed responsible. However, things soon shift from clear-cut black and white to shades of grey, a moral maze that gets under your skin as it explores the subject’s doubts, shadows and contrariness. Spielberg’s finest film by some distance.
Slither
Here’s an unfashionable choice. Slither over The Departed? Am I mad? Possibly. But there should be room for such a deliciously rompy throwback to '80s schlock. Former Troma-man James Gunn took horror gleefully back 20+ years with Slither, a classic scenario — strange meteor crash brings nasty bug to Earth with view to taking over the planet — given a healthy dose of post-modern irony. Most of all though, Slither was just great fun, with a lot of excellent lines and deadpan wit coupled with genuine scares and tension.
Syriana
With a plot that remains impossible to summarise in the space here — it’s about, er, corruption — Syriana is another film that bears up to repeated viewings. Indeed, it demands repeated viewings in order to pick up every nuance and implication of Stephen Gaghan’s clever screenplay. Clearly if you find The Fast Show a little slow-moving, or Catherine Tate too cerebral an experience, then this isn’t the film for you. But if you do occasionally want to give the little grey cells a work out, Syriana is essential viewing. There are the odd moments of soapbox politicising but, for the most part, this is intelligent, thoughtful and thought-provoking stuff.
Casino Royale
The reinvention of Bond was a fine finale to 2006. Stripped back to basics, and restoring the Fleming ideal, Casino Royale showed a Bond who’s a steely-eyed killer doing the country’s dirty work rather than a master of the double entendre weighed down with gadgets. And it was a hell of an improvement. The silliness of the last few films was removed and replaced by two huge brass cojones. The result is Bond as he should be: flawed, human but, when he needs to be, an utter, utter bastard. Exciting, violent and roll on the next one.
Hidden
Cache — to give it the original name — saw Michael Haneke confirm his reputation as the best filmmaker in Europe today. From its simple notion — a couple grow increasingly terrorised by the secret videos left for them that prove someone is watching them — the tension and paranoia grow alarmingly until you wonder what’s digging into your buttocks. Answer: it’s the edge of your seat. The fact that it demands mental engagement is simplement le icing sur un already tres bon cake.
Who Killed The Electric Car?
It’s been an exceptional year for documentaries, particularly those looking at the cost our current lives are causing the planet. An Inconvenient Truth may have taken the most money and seen Al Gore reinvented from bumbling politician to the greatest president the US never had, but the two worth seeking out are the Wal-Mart documentary — you’ll never shop at Asda again — and, particularly, Chris Paine’s poignant and sharp Who Killed The Electric Car? A tale of mercenary governments, oil-company power and sheer bloody injustice, it will have you tense with rage within 20 minutes.
Thank You For Smoking
Proof — if any were needed — that I am still a nasty old cynic comes with the selection of Jason Reitman’s Thank You For Smoking. Managing to lampoon everything from corporate power to spin-doctoring, via Government band-wagons, Hollywood stupidity and health warnings, it starts out as a pointed satire but rapidly plunges down the road marked “positively evil”. Cruel, hilarious and marks out Jason Reitman as one to watch.
The Weather Man
And so the final slot… Despite strong showings from those listed way above and other possibilities such as Brokeback Mountain, the great-until-the-end Hard Candy and the very witty, very poignant Transamerica (Dear Academy, Felicity Huffman was robbed), the final pat on the back goes to Gore Verbinski’s curious comedy The Weather Man. Nicolas Cage is at his fish-eyed dead pan best in a tale that, at times, rivals The Office for laughs via unbearable levels of embarrassment. And it’s also good to see that Verbinski — now chest-deep in the third Pirates’ tale — hasn’t lost his knack for the dark side.