I am proud to announce my triumphant return to the Raph/Balg movie round-up. During my hiatus, in the year of our lord 2001, a little film entitled The Royal Tenenbaums melted my heart twenty times over. Like Mordecai, I just can’t stay away from that sinking ship of a family for long. Nothing I saw this year could hold a candle to it in terms of characters or tone or visual flair. But there were a few flicks in 2002 which left some sort of impression, however abstract.
I must confess that I have the memory of a sieve: give me a plot point and I will give you a blank stare. But I do find the following films worth mentioning, for I left the theater feeling that some chord or another had been struck.
Y Tu Mama Tambien was the only movie I saw all year that made me forget I was watching a movie. I love a good postmodern wink as much as the next girl, but it was refreshing to feel like I was being taken along for the ride. I really wanted to take issue with the whole "cancer as catalyst for sexual liberation" thing, but in the end I cared about the characters way too much to feel I was being manipulated. The sound in this movie floored me: the brutal swooshing of arms slapping water followed by the complete silence of the submerged swimmer, cutting off narration mid-sentence. You gotta love water.
Adaptation appealed to the completely self-absorbed hack writer in me. The ending left me baffled and infuriated. I walked out feeling ripped off, but later, it all felt like part of the fun. Kaufman veers off into NeverNeverLand and Jonze cops music and moves from Wong Kar-Wai. I still think character growth is way overrated.
Lovely and Amazing made me cry like a baby on an airplane. When will my people stop hating themselves? The unconscious propagation of neuroses must end. Mothers, do not let your daughters become you. Let them burst out from home and hearth and embrace the world. Hope that they never ever learn to cower.
I suppose the same should be said for sons, for Barry Egan could sure have benefited from some assertiveness training. But the woozy, blinding, bright beauty of Punch-Drunk Love was what really roped me in. The aftereffects make me want to do a little tap dance every time I walk into a grocery store. A little tapping goes a long way.
And a little waltzing goes even further. The rerelease of The Last Waltz introduced me to a band (The Band) that I had ignored for far too long. And Van Morrison’s purple spangly jumpsuit was an unexpected added bonus. Rhinestones forever!!
2002
LISTS
dan
kevin
jeremy
alex
sujan
dave n.
sarah f.
juhi
genna
shawn
chris larry
mitch
chris m.
donovan
marc
jim
