The best films of 2011

At the end of the year, we as humans are inclined to reflect, look back and create lists of the things that were the best something. Doing a much better job than last year, I saw thirty-one new releases at the cinema in 2011. I was sad to miss Blue Valentine, Le quattro volte, Take Shelter and plenty of others. But here are my top twelve.

1. Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
Unusually, this was a film that gave me what its trailer (possibly the most exciting of the year) had promised. The paranoid Cold War atmosphere glows from the screen, bathed in the tawdry oranges and browns of the 1970s. The acting is subtle and powerful, the merest glance from Gary Oldman giving us Smiley's weariness and compassion together. The complex plot is tightly handled and tense throughout. And most importantly, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is more enjoyable than any other new film I saw this year. I loved it.

2. True Grit
Everything comes together perfectly in the Coen Brothers' offering this year. But most special of all is the acting. Jeff Bridges' hilarious, slurring marshal and Matt Damon's preening Texas Ranger are pitch perfect and naturally funny. But the film is carried by young Hailee Steinfeld; strong, confident and magnetic. Also, there seemed at one point to be a bear riding a horse. This is Coen territory par excellence.

3. A Separation
This Iranian film was a revelation. It is a deft portrait of life in modern Tehran, with divisions across religious and class barriers serving as the backdrop to an escalating drama. We eavesdrop, the camera often observing from another room through a window or door, and the tension is at times nearly unbearable.

4. The Tree of Life
Terrence Malick returns. This is an intimate family story played out on the cosmic stage. The Big Bang, dinosaurs, the afterlife(?): they all make an impact, but the real focus is on the boys growing up in 1950s Texas. Whispered narration, dream-like memories and incredibly beautiful photography are spell-binding. It is unique.

5. The Deep Blue Sea (my review here)
Terence Davies returns. This strong, rich adaptation is released from staginess by elegant direction, surging music and impeccable acting. Absorbing.

6. Senna
A Formula One documentary astonishing enough for those of us who have no time whatsoever for the sport. The presentation of the archive footage could hardly be done better and the story is fascinating. This is exciting, incredible and tragic.

7. Drive
The Year of the Gosling reached its peak here. An ultra-violent and super-slick story in which the relationships shine strongest. Ryan Gosling and Carey Mulligan are wonderful, always.

8. Black Swan
Not as crazy as I had expected, or perhaps hoped. And then the last thirty minutes happened. An enjoyable feast of loud Tchaikovsky and body horror. Its greatest success might be its seam of dark humour.

9. The King's Speech
I maintain that The Social Network was the better film, and that Colin Firth and Jeff Bridges won their Oscars the wrong way round. But The King's Speech is still a British prestige picture of the best kind. The scenes with Firth and Geoffrey Rush are funny and impressive. As a friend pointed out, a classic sports film (without sport).

10. Weekend (my review here)
Andrew Haigh's breakthrough is well written and well acted, brought into focus by attention to tiny details. A film about a gay romance that is completely, unselfconsciously universal.

11. Win Win
One of the most purely enjoyable films I saw this year (see also Albatross). It is a rare thing: unassuming, funny, heart-warming, intelligent. It cannot fail to be liked.

12. Hanna
Saoirse Ronan and director Joe Wright together give us beauty, humour and violence: a warped fairy tale with delicious visuals. In all, a blast with a Chemical Brothers soundtrack.

There they are. Honourable mentions go to 127 Hours, Never Let Me Go, Albatross, Beginners, The Skin I Live In, We Need to Talk About Kevin, and Tabloid.

Finally, of the other films I saw this year, my favourites include The Social Network, Days of Heaven, Rocco and His Brothers and F. W. Murnau's Faust. If there are any of those you have not seen, I can highly recommend you toss your internet to one side and seek them out as soon as possible. They are all wonderful.

Have a great 2012, everybody. Be happy.

The Deep Blue Sea

The opening of The Deep Blue Sea is amazing. Hester (Rachel Weisz) is attempting suicide, gassing herself in a dingy post-war London flat. From here, we jump around her past, seeing her with her staid and solid husband (Simon Russell Beale), seeing her with her lover Freddie (Tom Hiddleston). She meets Freddie, she makes love to him, she attempts suicide. And this whole non-linear narrative display is accompanied by Barber's Violin Concerto. It is loud, sometimes drowning out dialogue. The fragments of the story are bound together by romanticism and regret in the music.

The cinematic magic here belies the stage origins of Terence Davies' latest film. Based on Terence Rattigan's play, the story follows the three main characters in a patchwork of scenes. Hester is trapped in a suffocating marriage to Sir William Collyer, a judge in thrall to convention and to his disapproving mother. In Freddie, she finds excitement, but it is driven by lust and the need for an escape. As Freddie proves to be cruelly unreliable, so Hester finds herself on the brink of emotional collapse and isolation.

That we are watching a play on film is sometimes clear. However, we can rely on the remarkable actors to carry us through. The plot itself is also absorbing, with barbed twists spiking scenes which seem otherwise static on screen (when Sir William confronts Hester outside her flat from his car, for example). But often Davies employs elegant devices to transform the play into cinema which enthrals, while staginess is banished. As characters argue, the camera deliberately intrudes by jumping between them, so we see them face on in turn. It glides over sheltering Londoners in a Tube station, as Hester recalls the war. And there is the opening montage, with music surging across the images.

Music plays an important role in The Deep Blue Sea. This is apparently the case in much of Davies' work, although sadly I have yet to see more. Here the music makes a great impression, but its use is startlingly restrained. Barber looms large (would Walton have been more appropriate?), and a pub singalong of You Belong to Me melts into Jo Stafford's recording at a pivotal romantic moment. But much of the film is silent. Charged as the subject matter is, long pauses dominate and repress the emotion. The characters are struggling in this silence, and so the music has even more impact.

The three lead actors are captivating. Powerful passions ignite the silence and the outbursts. Simon Russell Beale simmers with suppressed rage; Tom Hiddleston can ably slide from caddish to hopeless in a single scene. But Rachel Weisz impresses most. She appears consumed by Hester's fragile and desperate desire to grasp something human through lust. It is a desire that lies at the film's core, and it is not always easy to watch. This is a steady, classical film and it hits deep emotions with small, masterful gestures.

8.5

Weekend

Poignant, detailed romance

Two people are standing together in a small kitchen, making coffee. After a drunken first night together, they have met up again the next day. The chemistry is crackling between them, but neither knows whether they are about to kiss. "Just waiting for the kettle to boil," Russell says to Glen, pointlessly. It is an almost embarrassingly recognizable detail, one of several in Andrew Haigh's poignant Weekend. These small moments enrich the film, where the interaction between the characters is so important.

Tom Cullen and Chris New

I was pleased to finally see Weekend, following its success on the festival circuit and recent wins at the British Independent Film Awards, including Most Promising Newcomer for actor Tom Cullen. Cullen plays Russell, a gay man who goes to a club after an evening with his straight friends. There he meets Glen (Chris New), and we witness their relationship over the following weekend as they take drugs, have sex and tentatively get to know each other. It is clear they are falling in love, but Glen is moving to America permanently at the end of the weekend.

Both actors are impressive in what is essentially a two-hander. They are exposed by long takes and semi-improvised dialogue, and both deliver well-realized, believable characters. Russell is not fully comfortable with his sexuality, but Cullen shows us warmth and humour rather than a one-note tortured soul. Glen is more confrontational and politicized; he interviews Russell about their first encounter for an art project, and claims not to want a boyfriend. His insecurities surface gradually and New's sometimes comical performance is cleverly balanced.

So Russell and Glen do not become consigned to stereotypes, closeted versus out-and-proud. Haigh's handheld, minimally edited shots help us embrace the characters as they develop. We are with them from their first bad dance onwards, all the while in an admirably bland Nottingham setting. It feels sometimes intrusive. There is also little additional music to distract, although the two John Grant tracks came as a pleasant surprise.



An art project

But, along with the acting, it is the writing which propels the film. Occasionally the improvisatory feel is broken slightly, but more often the notes are hit perfectly. Russell compares his unease with being gay to the feeling of indigestion, which almost tells us everything we need to understand him. Most successful are the small moments, like that with the kettle, or the indecision about punctuation in a text message ("I feel like shit!" or "I feel like shit x" or "I feel like shit...").

Through these details, we identify with the relationship. Andrew Haigh has made a film about a gay romance, but its appeal is in no way exclusive. The romance is human, and Glen's bitter conviction the straight people won't come to see his art project "because it's got nothing to do with their world" does not apply here. This is an insightful film which reaches far beyond its intimate sphere.

8

The Market, 17 December

Christmas joy in Edinburgh

If you are lucky enough to be enjoying the light breezy air of Edinburgh this Christmas, be sure to visit The Market on 17 December. It will be found merrily ensconced in St Columba's-by-the-Castle (Johnston Terrace) and promises a generous abundance of treats.

Brought together by Amelia of Little Red (whose gorgeous one-off jewellery pieces will be available), the focus of The Market is on great local design. The list of stalls is inviting, ranging from illustration to ceramics. There is plenty to whet the appetite at the Facebook page.

Check it out on Saturday. I'll be there, and I cannot wait.

Lau

Discovering dazzling folk music

Something of a folkie-newbie, I was not previously familiar with Lau. A trio of accordion, guitar and fiddle, they play music blistering and fresh. I saw them last night at the beautiful Queen’s Hall, supported by MacMaster/Hay, whose combination of electric harp and percussion delivered some interesting sounds.

With Lau onstage, the atmosphere was inviting. There is little precious or staid about this folk group. Amid the music, banter and asides on whisky and East Anglia engaged the crowd, with nods to concerts and collaborations past and future. The band is generous with wit and chemistry, with accordionist Martin Green the willing and splendidly outfitted target of jibes from Aidan O’Rourke (fiddle) and Kris Drever (guitar and vocals).

Splendidly outfitted folk (photo credit: The Queen's Hall)

Their playing dazzles. The musicianship is of a type I find simply mind-boggling: intuitive, telepathic, ferociously skilled. Rooting the music solidly, hallmarks of folk are present and correct. There are strong unison melodies, knotty battles between complex and simple times (between the note-torrent and the bang-bang-bang), and devious changes and tacets.

All of this is tackled effortlessly by the band, frequently at breakneck speed. But the music is never showy; it is organic and has space to breathe. There are gorgeous moments, notably the soaring new island-inspired track Torsa and vocal pieces Evergreen and Ghosts. When it comes, the rush of complexity grows naturally from simple motifs. At one magical point, all three play a rocking, quiet arpeggiated figure together; then, from its elegance springs a virtuosic whirl.

The end of the night brought a glowing display of Lau’s skill. A fine rendition of Lal Waterson’s Midnight Feast faded to quietness, with a chance for each member of the band to shine in turn. Before long, the intensity built up once more and we were carried into a rollicking finale, the band yet again embracing inspired, unexpected turns in the music with power and joy. The crowd were rapturous and I left excited by discovery.

The Kick Inside

The Kate Bush fanatic who doesn’t own Wuthering Heights keeps it quiet. In anticipation of 50 Words for Snow, I recently rectified the problem and bought her debut album, The Kick Inside (along with The Red Shoes, reviewed here).

The Kick Inside (1978)

Now I have Wuthering Heights. This is a song which could barely be more familiar, after so much exposure and dancing along (we’ve all done it). What strikes me now is that it still sounds so strange. Even in the context of this album, that weird voice seems to come from a totally different place. Coupled with an undeniably wonderful and inspired lyric, the song continues to entrance and leap. Mainstream the rock arrangement may be, with a banal guitar solo tacked on the end, but without this grounding it perhaps would never have been a number one smash. It couldn’t help but knock everyone sideways on Top of the Pops.

Let me in

That rock presentation characterizes the album and is handled perfectly well, with piano leading alongside occasional strings, synthesizers and so on. This is the mid-70s, with Elton John and Roxy Music each coming to mind at times. But even the most straightforward tracks have their quirks and one should never be complacent about Kate’s singing. Listen to her playful backing vocals in the otherwise unsurprising James and the Cold Gun, or imagine how much power would be lost if L’Amour Looks Something Like You were stripped of her voice.

And sometimes there is liberation from the safety of four-square guitar-and-drums nestled in the mix. Featuring primarily Kate and her piano, these are the quieter and more exposed songs, such as Feel It and The Kick Inside. These tracks show better what later albums would hold. We are drawn more to the songwriting and remember with awe that Kate Bush was nineteen years old when this was released. In fact, the most famous of these calmer tracks, The Man with the Child in His Eyes, was recorded when she was only sixteen. It is a fascinating song, and the only one I previously knew besides Wuthering Heights.

Most of the rest of the album was completely new to me. The Saxophone Song and Strange Phenomena are exciting; Them Heavy People and Oh to Be in Love are fun. My favourite discovery is Moving, the opening song. Swooning and wheeling, Kate woos with a sensual lyric. The arrangement works well too, built around sparkling piano. Moving gives us the best of Kate Bush’s early work, before she grabbed hold of the production reins and went batshit with a Fairlight. Also, this is great:

There was much to come, but The Kick Inside still endures as a remarkable debut. The teenaged Kate had talent ready to explode.

8