Nothing Else Matters: 2012 In Movies

Everybody loves lists, right? I know I do. It's so difficult for me to decide what I do and don't like if nobody provides me with a simple list of things ranked in order from least best/worst to most best/worst. I'm just lost without lists. Somebody tell me what I like! I'm adrift in a sea of media without arbitrarily assigned values!

Now that just about everybody out there has assaulted you with their lists of the best and worst films of the year that was, I figured now would be the perfect time to throw my hat in the ring. This is standard practice for me, being fashionably late to any party. Honestly, I've never been fashionable in any respect, so I don't know why I used that term. Nobody gets excited when an unshaven hunchback shuffles his way into the party an hour late. But that doesn't matter now. What matters is LISTS!

I, being the internet's official arbiter of good taste, am here to tell you what movies from 2012 you should have enjoyed, and what movies you should have despised with every fiber of your being. Because if you actually like any of the films I have decreed as "terrible", then you are simply wrong. Very wrong. And very stupid. yes, I said stupid. Because only idiots like movies that I don't like. This is just a scientifically proven fact.

Instead of boring you with two lists made up of ten movies, I'm merely going to bore you with two lists made up five movies. This is because out of all the theatrical films I witnessed during 2012, most of them fall into a grey area of casual enjoyability. None of them were amazing, and their flaws weren't glaring enough to drive me into a homicidal frenzy. Hence, I have nothing interesting to say about them. Of course, I may have nothing interesting to say about the ten I films I have chosen to highlight below, but that train's already left the station.

Next stop: Listville. Population: Fuck You.

My Five Most Favoritest Films From The Year The Mayans Forgot

5) Django Unchained

I'm a Quentin Tarantino fan. The man has never disappointed me with a good movie. I even love Death Proof, and a lot of Tarantino fans like to shit on that one. I'm just on the man's wavelength, anticipating each of his cinematic offerings like a junkie anticipates his next sweet fix. And on Christmas Day, I mainlined nearly three hours of pure, uncut my fucking brain is melting joy.

This movie gave me a thousand-foot-tall erection. I fell in love the moment it started, when the theme from Sergio Corbucci's original Django began serenading my eardrums while my eyes were fondled by some absolutely breathtaking imagery of the unspoiled American landscape. I had no choice but to love Django Unchained. Watching Jamie Foxx portraying a freed slave, taken under the wing of an eccentric dentist/bounty hunter played by the brilliant Christoph Waltz, righteously murdering a seemingly never-ending parade of absolutely despicable human beings as he struggles to reunite with his beloved Broomhilda was the best Christmas present I received that year. It didn't hurt that I saw the film with my cousin Ky and my best pal Titus, whose infectious laughter echoed throughout the auditorium with the death of every onscreen slave-owning douchebag. A fantastic evening, to say the least.

Sure, the film has flaws. Tarantino's extended cameo almost took me completely out of the movie, but at least he had the decency to blow himself the fuck up before he managed to ruin his own movie. Broomhilda as a character barely registers, serving as more of a plot device than a real human being. This is particularly surprising, considering Tarantino's track record of writing strong female characters. But it's difficult for me to imagine what else he could have done with Broomhilda, considering the limitations provided by the setting. She could have used a little more screentime, that's for sure. I'm not sure what purpose Django's impromptu dressage routine at the end of the film served. And a few of the music choices didn't work as well as I had hoped they would. But none of these things are deal breakers.

Django Unchained is an amazing motion picture, with some fantastic performances, jaw-droppingly beautiful cinematography, and some of the smartest dialogue you're ever likely to come across. So basically your average Quentin Tarantino film.

4) Lincoln

This movie. This fucking movie. Sure, Daniel Day-Lewis is a golden god. I know that. You know that. There are ancient cavepaintings depicting the arrival of this metahuman; his coming was foretold in scrolls of prophecy. Everybody who matters has spent so much time exhalting the annointed one, it's old hat. His amazing performance in Stephen Spielberg's Lincoln was a foregone conclusion. But everybody else is great. They're all great!

Sally Field. David Straithairn. Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Michael Stuhlbarg. Bruce McGill. John Hawkes. Tim Blake Nelson. Hal Holbrook. Lee Pace. Gulliver McGrath. Gloria Reuben. Walton Goggins. Jackie Earle Hayley. Grainger Hines. Jared Harris. James Spader. Tommy Lee Jones. Every single one of these actors is turning in absolutely stellar work in this film. This is a Murderers' Row of actors.

I can't find a single thing to complain about these people. It's maddening. They were all sharing a film with perhaps the single most gifted performer working today, and they all excelled.

And Spielberg himself wisely chose not to make a standard bio-pic, the kind of film that tries to encompass the titular character's entire life in two hours and change. Instead, he focuses on the final months of Lincoln's life, as he attempts to pass the 13th Amendment in the waning days of the Civil War. This was a wise decision. There are no bloody battles in this film, no sweeping action sequences. It's basically a series of conversations between fascinating characters. It works brilliantly.

As the film progresses, we're introduced to a host of eccentric characters scrambling around Washington D.C. in a mad dash to secure the necessary votes in the House of Representatives to pass the 13th Amendment before their lame duck session concludes. At this point, Lincoln begins to transform into something resembling a heist film. The President gathers a team of disparate and often morally ambiguous characters, and sets about his task of gathering the necessary votes in whatever way he can. It's incredibly entertaining, often hilarious, and shockingly suspenseful.

During the climactic sequence on the House floor, I was momentarily caught up in the action, counting each vote along with Sally Field's Mary Todd Lincoln, wondering if the amendment would actually pass. That's how good this fucking movie is.

I sure hope the 13th Amendment passes! Wait... Aw, you got me, Spielberg! You magnificent bastard!

The movie should have ended five minutes earlier. That's my only complaint. I had to say something negative about Lincoln, and that's all I could think of.

3) Les Misérables

I read Les Misérables when I was in high school. It wasn't assigned reading, and I didn't read it for a book report or anything like that. I just wanted to read it. I was fifteen years old, and my peers could give less than a shit about Victor Hugo's work. One of my classmates saw me reading this rather large tome during class and asked me what it was about. I told her that it was basically the story of one man's quest for redemption, and she looked at the size of the book and remarked that it shouldn't take so many pages to tell such a simple story. But it's not a simple story.

I didn't have the time or the patience to try and explain the complexities of this novel I myself hadn't finished reading. And even if I were willing to try, she wouldn't have listened. I realized a long time ago that most people don't care about reading for pleasure. I'm not talking about magazines or goofy articles on the internet. I'm talking about fucking books. Your average person just doesn't feel like sitting in a comfortable chair and cracking open an actual book. After school, a lot of folks simply never read another book. I don't understand this mentality. It flabbergasts me.

The lineage of the modern book can be traced back to Johannes Gutenberg's original printing press. The introduction of printed works fundamentally altered the entire world. Reading used to be reserved for the elite, those in positions of authority. But the printing press brought with it a revolution, the democratization of knowledge. And knowledge is power. Everything changed with the introduction of the printing press. This helped build our civilization. A book is an absolutely amazing thing. And most people don't seem to care about them.

This has very little to do with my enjoyment of Tom Hooper's Les Misérables, but I'm a huge fucking nerd with a chip on my shoulder, and I felt like sharing.

I'm trying to say that I love Victor Hugo's novel. It's a sprawling epic that indulges in frequent diversions that have nothing to do with the central narrative, but these diversions help build a literary world. By the time I finished reading the novel, I had spent decades living in this fully-realized world, suffering and dreaming with the multitude of characters that populated it. A good book isn't a simple diversion. It's an experience. And Les Misérables is an incredible experience.

I had no familiarity with the musical version of Victor Hugo's novel. I'd never heard any of the songs before seeing the film, aside from "I Dreamed A Dream", which surged in popularity several years ago thanks to Britain's favorite crazy cat lady, Susan Boyle. But I like musicals, and I love Les Misérables, so I was going to see this damned movie come hell or high water. And I absolutely loved the film.

A lot of fuss has been made about the choice to record the actors' musical performances live on set with simple piano accompaniment, as opposed to the confines of a recording studio, and it works brilliantly, allowing the actors' vocals to disctate the pace of the musical numbers, instead of being locked into a rigid structure with pre-recorded start-and-stop times. This gives the actors more control of their performances on set. The performances feel more authentic.

This isn't a film that worries about belting out every muscial number perfectly with complex choreography. Instead, the more nuanced musical stylings lend a strong verisimilitude to the performances. Characters at times sing in breathless or desperate tones, not always in perfect pitch but perfectly relaying their emotional states. This is serious acting, and it's fantastic stuff.

Anne Hathaway's performance, and most notably her stirring rendition of "I Dreamed A Dream" have been lauded by multitudes, and rightfully so. But I was more personally touched by Eddie Redmayne's quiet and mournful performance of "Empty Chairs At Empty Tables" near the end of the film. It was an absolutely heartbreaking scene, and Redmayne played it beautifully.

A great deal of controversy has arisen regarding Tom Hooper's aesthetic decision to film the majority of the musical performances in extended close-ups. A lot of people simply despise this style, finding it takes them right out of the narrative. I found the added intimacy of this stylistic choice to perfectly suit the story. We spend these long moments face to face with our characters as they bare their souls, shedding any hint of vanity. It worked for me. For opposing viewpoints on Tom Hooper's cinematic gamble, you can look here and here. They're both very well written and worth your time.

I'm just satisfied to finally see an adaptation of Les Misérables that captures the raw emotion of Victor Hugo's novel. What a beautiful thing.

2) Anna Karenina

Curtains rise and fall. Characters are highlighted by burning footlights. Set dressings shift, pushed and pulled by unseen stagehands, transporting performers hundreds of miles without ever leaving the frame. Toy trains zoom through  handcrafted snow-capped mountains, creating breathtaking locations in miniature. Characters climb above the stage, strolling across catwalks that overlook an opulent party below.

Director Joe Wright's adaptation of Leo Tolstoy's novel Anna Karenina is one of the most beautiful films I have ever seen. The decision to confine nearly the entire film to a theatrical stage provided Wright and his production design team the opportunity to create an intensely creative and dream-like motion picture, providing some of the most striking and gorgeous imagery seen on the silver screen in years.

Our characters inhabit a clearly artificial world, which suits the subject matter perfectly, being a story of wealthy aristocrats insulated from the hardships and authenticity of the common people, living lives of stifling tradition. One notable character rejects this life, and is allowed to breathe fresh air, finding happiness in picturesque, wide-open fields as he toils alongside his subordinates. All other principle characters remain trapped within their gilded cage. It's the metaphor of the source material cleverly realized on film.

I'm not sure exactly what else to say about this movie. Tolstoy's tragic characters are perfectly embodied by the strong cast of actors. Keira Knightley is radiant. But the setting itself is perhaps the strongest character in this film, a living, breathing, ever-evolving thing that held me in its grasp long after the credits rolled.  It's difficult for me to put into words how much I adore Anna Karenina. So instead of trying, I'm just going to tell you to see it.

1) Cloud Atlas

Cloud Atlas is one of the most emotionally stirring films I've ever seen in my life. There are so many things I want to say about this monumental achievement, but I simply don't have the vocabulary for it. I can't adequately describe my feelings for Cloud Atlas. Luckily, Badass Digest's Devin Faraci wrote a magnificent review several months ago that perfectly encapsulates my own feelings for the film. Just go read that.

My Five Least Favoritest Films From The Year The Mayans Forgot

5) The Dark Knight Rises

Three hours of shrugging. That's what this movie feels like to me.

Batman's in retirement because his shapeshifting girlfriend blew up, then Catwoman Selina Kyle steals his pearl necklace and fingerprints and Batman's back with a knee brace that somehow allows him to kick through a brick wall. Laser guns! Flying car-thing! Tom Hardy wears a face mask and talks like an effete weirdo while strutting around looking like a hobo king. The most awkward day-to-night transition I have ever seen in a mainstream motion picture. My fortune is gone! My butler is gone! My vertebrae are migrating south for the winter! Tommy Solomon is a loose cannon cop who plays by his own rules! Edith Piaf is R'as Al Ghul's daughter! Ticking time bomb! Explosions! Happy ending?

I don't fucking care about any of this. The Dark Knight Rises doesn't even feel like a damned movie. It's like a hodgepodge assembly of loosely-connected scenes with no emotional resonance. It took three hours to tell this story? It only felt like six.

I hope the next Batman movie just takes this grim and gritty shit to its logical conclusion and features extended sequences of Bruce Wayne sitting in a darkened room, listening to Morrisey while he weeps uncontrollably, staring at a portrait of his dead fucking parents. Then he steps outside in a completely practical suit of Elizabethan armour with a custom-made bat-shaped helmet, destroying criminals with a morningstar while screaming "why did you take my mommy from meeeeee?!?" Maybe then, we'll finally have a movie that all the foaming-mouthed Bat-Nerds can watch without feeling ashamed of their hobby.

4) The Watch

A comedy should at least try to be funny, right?  Isn't that the mission statement? I don't know what the fuck The Watch is trying to do, but it's definitely not trying to make people laugh. If you're looking for something to watch while huffing model airplane glue, I suppose you could do worse. Like Total Recall.

3) Total Recall

Let's remake that incredibly entertaining 1990 Paul Verhoeven film starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, but we'll take out everything that made that movie work, and tell our actors to play their roles as if they've been battered about the head with a ball peen hammer. I swear to God, Jessica Biel is drooling her way through this movie.

These people are stumbling around expensive sets, filling their adult diapers while they attempt to hit their marks before the leering hobgoblin of a director stops counting his money long enough to call "cut". He turns to the producers, who are too busy masturbating to an episode of Charles In Charge to pay him any attention. Then he stands up, calls it a day, and drags his flimsy director's chair back to his trailer for an enthusiastic game of "nightcrawlers". Cohaagen, give these people air!!!

This movie is the product of incest.

2) Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter

I thought I was going to see some ridiculous-yet-entertaining movie about our 16th President murdering swaths of the undead while carrying on with this annoying Civil War thing. What I got was a fucking rage migraine.

To begin with, this is one of the ugliest movies I have ever seen. It's completely unappealing, monochrome digital garbage. It claims to be in 3D, but that's a blatant fucking lie. It's not even in 2D.

I was subjected to forty minutes of boring exposition with a cast of characters who don't register, played by actors wearing ill-fitting period costumes who seemingly had no idea they were even being filmed. Then Rufus Sewell shows up as king shit of vampire mountain and the movie spiraled down into an abyss of terrifying putrescence that threatened to drown me like a spider in a bathtub.

The movie informed me that vampires had come to the New World and were taking advantage of the American south's slavery-based economy because they couldn't get enough of that sweet slave blood. They apparently instigated the Civil War because they wanted to conquer the entire country and have all the black people in the world shipped over to the United States to create one massive blood orgy vampire nation.

That's why Honest Abe emancipated the slaves! Not because he gave a shit about their inalienable human rights! Because they're like delicious Capri Suns for vampires! The bloodsuckers can't get enough of them!

Then Harriet fucking Tubman showed up at the battle of fucking Gettysberg with crates of silver ammunition and fucking bayonets smuggled from the fucking underground railroad to route the fucking vampires and achieve ultimate victory for the fucking Union!

This movie honestly pissed me off. What kind of bullshit is this? Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter makes light of one of the darkest and most important periods in American history to tell such an insipid and offensive story. There is no redeeming value here. This thing is an abomination.

There are two films in my top five above that look at similar issues, yet handle themselves with such class and dedication that they make this worthless cinematic turd look absolutely reprehensible. There are people out there who somehow enjoy this movie. Those people are subhuman. I refuse to believe they have souls. No thinking, feeling creature could possibly glean anything worthwhile from Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter.

Watching this was like watching the art of cinematic expression slowly commit suicide before my eyes. There is no God. He wished himself out of existence when he realized this ridiculous joke of a movie was actually a real thing. I don't blame him.

1) Prometheus

I recall in my earlier review for Ridley Scott's Prometheus that I stressed I did not hate this movie; I was merely disappointed in it. Incredibly disappointed. My feelings have obviously changed. I am no longer merely disappointed in this movie. Because I saw it again.

There's a difference between something like Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter and Prometheus. There was never any chance a movie called Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter would ever be anything approaching good. At best, it would be a trashy diversion, something to watch for a while, enjoy in a shameful manner, and promptly forget.

Prometheus had potential. It could have been something great. The pieces were all there: an interesting premise, a handful of strong actors, a sizeable budget, and the pedigree of a legendary filmmaker returning to the genre that made his career. The last science fiction film Scott directed was fucking Blade Runner! And he's had three decades to craft the story that would become Prometheus! Obviously he had something big to say with this motion picture.

As it turns out, all he really had to say was "duuuuuuuuuuuuuuh..." That's all this movie is. Two hours of screaming stupidity in the guise of "Smart SciFi". There's nothing on this movie's mind. I'm not convinced it even has a mind. There's just a dead hamster rotting in a rusted cage in the ruined warehouse that is the creative "mind" behind Prometheus.

I knew that Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter was going to be bad before I saw it. I just hoped that it would be enjoyably bad. I was wrong. Prometheus tricked me. It sold itself as a smart, suspenseful motion picture that asked big questions and would provide startling answers. What I saw was about as smart as any random episode of that worthless History Channel Series Ancient Aliens, with the added bonus of a budget to provide gorgeous scenery in an effort to distract from the mind-numbing dumbshittery on display.

Prometheus is my pick for worst film of 2012 because it had the potential to be so much more, but it failed so spectacularly that it broke my heart. It could have been great. It should have been great. But what is it? Less than nothing. So fuck you, Prometheus.

I played a game of Oregon Trail last week. I named one of my children Prometheus. he wandered away from the wagon and died of exposure. That sounds about right.

That's it for now. I'm finished talking about this. I'll return in a while to deliver a podcast into the world. But until then...

TIME MARCHES ON!