My Favorite Movies

Gene Kelly and Donald O'Connor make such a magical pair. I think this may be the best movie I have ever seen in my life. It's so simple yet so perfect.

Maggie Smith is reason enough to love this film. And the score by Patrick Doyle is beyond beautiful. I loved the score so much I actually bought it from Amazon, something I never do.

Um, this movie is freaking amazing. I wish I were idealistic and sexy. Then maybe I could meet Ethan Hawke on a train and talk with him allll night long.

Forget Rear Window or Strangers on the Train, I now know what Hitchcock is truly capable of. And it surpasses any characteristic style or typical chase-and-evade scenes of usual Hitchcock fare. I was never more creeped out when Jimmy Stewart's character kissed the kind-of-but-not-really Madeleine. This is THE definitive psychological thriller.

Superb performances all around, especially the female ones. I suffer from major Bette Davis idolatry, while Anne Baxter is the epitome of ambition gone wrong. This film is awesome because from the beginning you know what's going to happen, and you wait and wait for the inevitable ruin, and the scenes just keep on building up and building up, but when the final showdown arrives the effect is still like WHAM.

I have decided that I will limit myself to one Woody Allen film in the films I consider my "favorites," and this shall be the one. Annie Hall may be the world's darling, but this is truly a neglected jewel in the American cinema. It's clever ("Life doesn't imitate art; it imitates bad television" haha Juliette Lewis LOVE), manipulative, and filled to the brim with memorable chracters. And my god Judy Davis is SO GREAT to watch. Her magnetism is like, arresting.

Words cannot describe how much I love this movie. The scenes between Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway crackle with electricity. Glamorous x 1000. I want to BE one of the members of their gang. Backed up by a stellar supporting cast, it also boasts a catchy score, magnificent camerawork, and one HECK of an ending.

One of the few movies that captures Faye Dunaway's ephemeral glamour to the fullest. I'm so glad I saw it.

Never in my life have I been so completely immersed in a movie. Frightening scenes that aptly illustrate the vicious cycle of crime. Painfully gorgeous camerawork that perfectly contrasts the brutal violence with the almost ethereal beauty of the beaches. It passes along a message without directly telling you, but you still emerge from the movie a wiser, sadder human being. And more scared of little kids.

I never thought a Woody Allen film could be so GOOD without Woody Allen actually acting in it. You can tell Allen really, really loved this film - there's such an atmosphere of realness in this (despite the fact that the story is far from real). There's none of that self-mockery prevalent in many of Allen's films - he completely immerses the audience in the 30s and Mia Farrow's look fits perfectly with the surroundings. The lines are convincingly delivered and it's funny, but not in the usual sharp, zinging humor - it's lighter, fluffier, and infinitely more lovely.

I have never in my life seen a documentary as magnificent as this - engrossing all the way through, paced meticulously, beautiful camerawork, insightful interviews, adorable children, breathtaking artwork. Amir Bar-Lev manages to capture footage of Marla that makes her look almost idiotic that the audience is supposed to question her capability of doing this. Bar Lev mostly keeps his opinions out of his documentary (as contrasted to the omnipresent Michael Moore...blegh) but the few times he actually steps into the camera and speaks it's always carefully introspective and highly respectful. He has grown to care about these people, particularly the mother, and I can feel his pain resonating through the camera when he was forced to perform the "confrontation". I want to keep my opinions out of this review but it's obvious the father doctored them up, probably without the knowledge of the mother. The reporter was kind of a bitch in the way she said things but she was the one that brought up the best points. But seriously, why the heck should it matter so much? The paintings are beautiful no matter who painted them, and I seriously want to buy a couple hundred and put them up in my house because of the sheer freedom and rapture they evoke. This was originally just supposed to be a documentary about modern art but it escalated rapidly into much more than that. It makes the documentary much more evocative but the director's hesitations are palpable...I empathize entirely. The modern art elegy could have been just as beautiful because I am in LOVE with those paintings.

Oh wow. This is so fantastic I don't even know where to begin. It seems to me that whenever Stephen King writes a non-horror story, the movie that results from it is almost always amaazing. Stand By Me is one of most touching films about friendship and growing up I've ever seen. The dialogue is cute and poignant all at once. River Phoenix is a true find - he can display a wide range of emotions many adult actors have difficulty accomplishing. Just ten minutes into the movie I found myself tearing up - it wasn't particularly sad, but the displays of friendship were SO beautiful. At the end, I cried buckets. The next morning I'm still slightly emotional, also because I just found out River Phoenix died at 23. The songs are perfectly matched to the decade and some of my favorite moments are when the boys sing along to the songs. Although the boys swear and smoke and talk about sex with each other's mothers, they are still innocent, and the juxtaposition of the "older" gang with theirs shows what could be right around the corner. It's a terrific coming-of-age story and the understanding between Will Wheaton and River Phoenix is visceral - their connection is so deep it's beyond human understanding. And playing in the background lies some GORGEOUS Portland scenery. It achieves a beauty that isn't artificial but simply captures the mood perfectly.

this movie scared the crap out of me. ellen burstyn gave a hauntingly real performance, shuffling around in her prized red dress. frightening and beautiful.

Terrific movie about relationships and heartbreaks. I love all aspects of this film, from the Jon Brion soundtrack to the quirky yet beautiful cinematography. Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet have good chemistry, oddly enough.

YES! It's been a while since I've seen a truly, truly good screwball comedy worthy enough to be added to my favorite movies. Gosh if only I could snag an adorable man like Henry Fonda had I possessed Barbara's Stanwyck's gift of seduction.

I have spent a week contemplating what to say about this movie and still I'm left speechless. I'll always be left speechless, I think. This might be the first movie I've been left simultaneously awed and confused as hell. And by awed I mean AWED the highest extent of the word.

Of course I've got to give credit to ALL the Bob Dylans, not just Cate Blanchett. Each aspect of Dylan's character could be a stand-alone story by itself. Heath Ledger's story in particular made me cry because it was so beautiful and sad and flustered and self-assured all at once. I love how Haynes enmeshes each discrete style with a particular embodiment of Dylan, from grainy documentary to 8 1/2 Fellini to crackly b&w to expansive Western. The music is so perfectly selected, it's magical.

Haynes is a true auteur: methodical, original, and COOL. I cannot believe freaking Jason Reitman got an Oscar nomination when there's genius like Haynes lying around. But I'm Not There will remain at the selectively viewed area like all art films, like it or not.

I don't really understand it, but that is part of the appeal. I WANT to understand. Please help me understand, Bob Dylan.

I love movies that make me both cry and laugh, and Good Bye Lenin is filled to the brim with those moments. The Lives of Others was another film about the Berlin Wall coming down, but while that one emphasized how messed up the DDR (or GDR? I'm so confused) was, Good Bye Lenin illustrates how imperfect any kind of society can be, capitalist or socialist. Alex (who is the hottest German guy I've ever seen)'s socialist vision becomes more of what he hoped was rather than what actually was. Obviously socialism isn't perfect, but his mother's quaint imaginary world serves as a respite for the loud and harsh realities of capitalism. This movie has humor (mostly involving Alex's efforts to find socialist stuff in an increasingly capitalist east Germany) and drama. Sometimes it gave me this overwhelming sense of nostalgia, which was kinda weird because I wasn't even alive when the wall was still up. It deals with a lot of issues but comes out on top with a beautiful climax and, not a happy, but a kind of cathartic, ending.

It may not be deep or meaningful, but this is the kind of film I like best: raunchy, sexy, showstopping, gaudy, golddiggerry fun.

I didn't like the ending, but the rest was perfection. Favorite scene: Cobb's breakdown.

This is an actor's film. Julie Christie and Gordon Pinsent each give mesmerizing performances and inhabit their characters in such a way I was like...wow, these two have a history together. Sarah Polley guides events along in a seamless manner, letting the actors shine individually while restraining these moments to make the movie more cohesive. Out of the three movies recently made about Alzheimer's (The Notebook, Iris, and this), Away From Her is by far the best. And I really dig those Canadian accents.

mind-blowing. just mind-blowing. and the guy who plays danny is hot bald!

This totally deserved to win over Saving Private Ryan. Gwyneth and Joseph Fiennes make Shakespeare sexy! mannn I wish Shakespeare were my lover.

Unbelievably cute! I watch this three, four times every Christmas Little Natalie Wood is a sweetheart.

It's so pretty! That movie poster does not do Audrey Tautou justice.

The cinematography is awesome, but it's not why I love love love this film so much. It's all Orson Welles - all, all, all.

Quentin Tarantino makes me feel cool. Why, oh why, did I not see this earlier?

My faaavorite Disney movie. it's so original and quirky, managing to maintain that ineffable Disney charm but just stopping it from being too saccharine.

Lacks the seedy debauchery of its precedents and thus attains a kind of superficial Hollywood sheen that actually works for it rather than against as with many cases. It pays homage to those old Bob Fosse classics but also turns into a new direction entirely. It's less about the self-involved players behind-the-scenes - which plays a starring role in the likes of All That Jazz and Cabaret - and more about the thrillseeking, tabloid-ingesting audience hungry for any sort of monkey show the stars can put on. So they respond accordingly. I know many people don't think this movie deserved the BP back in 2003 but I will defend it to the death because it's my favorite large-scale production modern musical. It's not a movie that you think about a lot afterwards but you can't deny the musical numbers weren't astonishing, not to mention fun. Bill Condon had a knack for pulling out showstopping performances from actors I didn't even know could sing! So I thank him for that.

A gem in Pixar's star-studded repertoire.

This is grrreat! Leslie Caron proves to be the only person able to keep up with Gene Kelly's MAD dancing.

Aging James Stewart and Princess Grace. Mm, a deliciously carnal romance.

This is an incredibly underrated film by Woody Allen, overlooked for the likes of Annie Hall, which is good but you've gotta admit not spectacular. Allen delves deep into the soul of a messed up, womanizing, pill-popping old writer who steals and colors his own life experiences and throws them into his own novels. This is the first Allen film where the word f-ck is used gratuitously, and while it did take me aback the first few times, it makes way for an edgier, tougher understanding of an entirely different character from Allen's typical neurotics. Judy Davis's hysterics never fail to impress, even in her limited role. There's the expected hilarious one-liners mixed in with some wise, pithy zingers that truly shed some thought on life. I guess it's not for everybody, but I'm sure everybody can agree on Harry lamentation near the end: I'm ODing on myself!

This movie is freaking brilliant. Ann Miller lights up the stage every moment she's visible. She may not be as good a dancer as professional Bobby Van, but she's got more edge. In movies it's the combination of attitude and spunk AND talent that take you up a notch. Ann Miller wears the star power on her sleeve. It's unfortunate she was never really given a leading role to project her talent but this is a pretty darn good substitute. "Too Darn Hot" and "Tom, Dick, and Harry" are without a doubt my favorite numbers, I swear I've watched each of them at least twenty times. But Cole Porter is an awesome composer and I also love "Why Can't You Behave," "We Open In Venice," and "Always True to You in My Fashion."

However, the movie is really sexist. Why does Howard Keel's character treat Kathryn Grayson like crap and she still comes running back to him? Granted, they both behave rather badly but why does Kate have to give the concession?

i LOVED it. shirley maclaine is endearing in her vulnerable position. the chemistry between nicholson and maclaine is smoldering. winger captures the more tender scenes. love love.

hilarity foudn in black humor. mmmm for wes anderson goodness.

adorable movie. i love harry.

Dustin Hoffman, my main man. D-U-S-T-I-N.

"Get your stinking paws off me, you damn dirty ape!" This is so engrossing I inadvertently leaned in. The director did a terrific job of combining the elements of mystery, action, scifi, unforgettable dialogue, magnificent makeup, sparse scenery, and Charlton Heston in all his machoness - all into one smashing movie.

rounded characters, fabulous storytelling, and the customarily hilarious one-liners. dianne wiest impresses me every time. it's like a vast painting by renoir or something. nothing gets resolved but the story runs so deep. it leaks autumn.

fabulous chemistry with vivien leigh and gable. if anything is gonna make you cry, this will. first part amazing, second part quite good, but not as.

A movie about selfish, beautiful people who so knowingly use people for their own purposes it somehow becomes okay. I feel like Patrick Marber was influenced by Husbands and Wives, except while there only Mia Farrow attained the manipulative, destructive bitch award, here it's like Mia Farrow split her personality into four and they transmogrified into some kind of gruesome, navel-gazing monster. It's a reflection of what society has become today, I think, which doesn't make it any easier to stomach but strikes an unpleasant chord at our insides and forces us to admit something we don't want to admit. And that's why I think a ton of people dislike this movie - it's evasion.

After much debate with myself, I have decided that I love this film. It's the definitive 80s teen movie and all of the high school stereotypes have their own time to shine. It's absorbing and even a little sad, but at the same time never loses its sense of fun. Judd Nelson stood out in every scene - he plays bad boy to perfection.

Only the French can pull this off. Schnabel turns what could be a potentially boring subject into a magnetic, lyrical splendor. The climax was perfect, the acting was heartfelt, and the music fits like a glove. Never does it turn into arty nonsense or meaningless froth.

And I have changed my mind about cinematography: Atonement, you no longer hold the position of the most beautiful movie in the world, Le Scaphandre et le Papillon has surpassed you by miles. At the end scene when the eye looks at things sideways, roaming all around, and then all of a sudden the camera flips right side up, I thought I would cry from the gorgeousness. It's not a pretentious kind of beauty, it's as if you had just perchanced upon the moment and happened to capture it at exactly the right time at the right angle, and somehow this discovery happened a thousand times over. My gosh, if only Schnabel and his band of artistic geniuses could get together and turn MY life into something this fantastic.

Oh gosh, it's so hard to get all my thoughts into something coherent. Um, well, this was brilliant. We're living in real time, and every second these characters spend together counts. They've grown up and matured, become more jaded with things like love and life, but the connection between them is still as strong as ever before. What I love about these two films is that we've only known these characters for as long as they have. We've listened to their conversations like they were our known, we know about their insecurities, and their hopes and dreams, but still both characters remain as elusive as they are to each other. But we want them to be together, and surely as they do. What's beautiful about this movie is not what is said, but what is left unsaid. We feel the palpable pain each has gone through these nine years even though they try not to talk about it. Gone is the passionate heart-pouring when they were 20, only to be superseded by the trite adult-talk about "how have you been doing" and so on. It was so short, and I wanted more. It was complete, but not really.

Despite the fact that I spent the entire movie thinking that Dianne Wiest was Olive and Helen was Jennifer Tilly (of which I feel like a huge dumbass, thank you very much), this movie contains all elements that I love of Woody. The coldness that hits your bones when another layer is unwrapped, cynicism and idealism jumbled together so that you can't even tell the difference between the two, the subconscious prejudices we build up only to have them joyfully knocked down by Woody's slight of hand, hilarity found in unexpected areas, and the pseudo-intellectual junk always popping up when you least expect it, a welcome respite that always pertains to the subject matter but tangentially at best. All this sounds very ambiguous but it's the movie as a whole that works the best. There wasn't any particular moment that stood out, the movie itself stood out.

I love, I love. Jim Carrey makes a seamless transition from comedy to dramedy and back again. The set designer does a great job of flitting the audience to different personas and maintaining the balance between contrived and "real" - to Truman, at least. Well casted and thought provoking. I was thinking, what if my life were a tv show? And then I was like, that is such an incredibly selfish idea. But then I was like, but my life is so incredibly predictable and so similar to Truman's. I want to break out too. And that is what the movie is all about.

The thing that amused me most was that Humbert Humbert called Lolita "Lo". I don't know why. Battle of the pedophiles at the beginning was probably the best thing I've seen in my life. Sue Lyon is marvelous as the eponymous nymphet even though Hayley Mills could've given her a run for her money. James Mason is good at being the slightly creepy character that jibes well with his burned-out actor in A Star is Born. I sympathize with noone but I'm drawn to everyone.

Wowza. I will never be able to listen to Mr. Ludwig van the same way again.

Scratch anything I've said before, Veronica Lake is THE poster girl for adorability. Preston Sturges sure knows how to pick his leading ladies. Very, very good satire with a solid message and well-timed transitions. I love films that show versatility.

I cried when Jake Gyllenhaal didn't believe that Gwyneth Paltrow wrote the proof. So sue me. It was sad.

I love that you don't know where this movie is going until it gets there. I turned cold when Gwyneth Paltrow read out Anthony Hopkins' "proof."

Creepy and engrossing. The scene where armless/legless man lights the cigarette never fails to amaze me.

Incredibly over-the-top and really typifies the area where reality meets illusion. The style takes some getting accustomed to but the dance numbers (oh wow, oh god wow) are really something. Oh mann Anne Reinking.

Very Chinese, very classic Ang Lee. It's really hard to describe what exactly Ang Lee's style IS, but I can almost always identify it. I can physically feel the slight, soft spoken man behind the camera. He owns his subtleties. I usually can't stand watching movies for longer than two hours but this one kept me mesmerized. I felt like I was walking a tightrope alongside Tang Wei as she practiced her fluid movements of espionage. Ang Lee keeps the line of vision taut with tension, angular, lucid, and, yes, very Chinese.

Finally, a movie where Elia Kazan doesn't go overboard! I owe it all to Natalie Wood's stunning theatrics and Warren Beatty sheer sexiness. The narrowminded town is so beautiful yet shockingly cruel to these young lovers and Kazan let the story spew out the message instead of forcefeeding actors. I'm impressed.

It's like, intelligent American Pie. It shies away from sentimental moments and even makes fun of them. Jason Lee has that got that va va voom goin on.

This is one of the best romantic comedies I've seen in a long time. The story is romantic and snappy, keeping just the right amount of mystery so that it is not confusing but whimsically engrossing. I loved having the setting during Bill Clinton's time - it weathered and toughened out the story in an aspect where it definitely could've been too "fairytale". Isla Fisher is the European Amy Adams; I thought she was so, so adorable whenever she delivered anything. I hope she gets a great career in the future.

I still kind of hate Ryan Reynolds because his acting style has touches of the egotistical and fake, but I think he manages to obtain a decent amount of chemistry with all four female characters (Abigail Breslin included). The casting was pretty much flawless, even though I think they could've had Elizabeth Banks do more and had us like her more. She can be perfectly endearing, that one.

But as a general idea, I highly recommend this movie to anyone and I couldn't stop smiling throughout!

Oh. my. gosh. I did not know what to expect at all but all those blew out of the water once I was introduced to the fairytale city of Bruges. The atmosphere is SO netherworldly, so hazy yet cerebral, it's like you have all the time in the world to think but the thoughts that come out of your mind are as dreamlike as the city. It's so unexpectedly funny but then it quickly shifts moods from comic to tragic to pensive to tragicomic.

The most masterful moments come when everything is still. I don't know how anyone can create such an original combination of genres and assorted moods. The location choice is flawless.

The movie has almost no plot complications or suspenseful moments, yet I love it SO MUCH! It's a floating, pattering, whirling confection of a movie, and Amy Adams fits snugly inside Delysia Lafosse. I think she can have a tendency to be pigeonholed into the ingenue role, but she seizes anything that is thrown at her and you can tell she truly delights in whatever she does, no matter how small or predictable her role is. I love the concept of stuffing a movie into a DAY; the vision of people rushing breathlessly around to fit their events in a day is not something often explored and was executed magnificently!

Admittedly the story is not much but that is really the essence of the movie - it entertains and delights, but afterwards you can't really remember what happened, just that you were put in the best mood ever while watching it.

This is the textbook definition of vicious self-satisfaction. Evan Rachel Wood's hilarious deadpan steamrollers over everything she touches. The way she holds herself with such decisive control is impressive at such a young age (I can kind of imagine Dakota Fanning in something of this role in the future, actually) and she is the one that makes this movie THE best out of all its precedents (Heathers, Cruel Intentions).

It was necessary for this movie to be independently made because the straight-up racism wouldn't have been approved anywhere else. And the racism and gutsy ventures into taboo territory are what make this movie unforgettable.

But even though I really, really enjoyed this movie, it lacked the balls to make the full vitriolic monty, opting for the redemption arc instead, with internal turmoil + tears+ all. Come on people, we don't live in the age of the Hays code anymore - not everything has to end for the good.

Ruby Keeler is an admittedly gorgeous but boring woman, so I'm glad she isn't given a whole lot to do except moon over the guy and then retreat into the background. But the other three women are so colorful and over-the-top, I can't resist this musical. Another Busby Berkeley spectacle with themes for each musical number. Pettin' in the Park was so, so naughty and We're in the Money is the definitely the cutest little clock song EVER. I'm glad Ginger Rogers got her time to shine because she wasn't used nearly enough in 42nd Street. I love the liberal stereotypical showgirlesque atittudes of all of them and the unrestrained dialogue. If these guys were capable of this this early in the cinema game, think of what fantastic movies we could have had had the Hays code NOT been in place! Such sensuality wowowow.

So much stuff running through my head while watching this cinematic splendor. One of the best movies of the film noir age. It's dramatic but for once the drama is well-earned. At first you think Gilda is going to be the typical femme fatale and you hate her guts but secretly love her seduction but then all of a sudden layer by layer is unwrapped until all is left is the soft underbelly of vulnerability. Sexuality oozes out of Rita Hayworth au naturale. You get the feeling some actresses try too hard to attain this but Rita has the self-assurance of a truck...she's different from Monroe's ditzy loveability, she's tough as nails but voluptuously magnetic. Pictures don't do this woman justice because it's way she moves and glides and sings and speaks that give the real package. Seriously did people get dance training is this movie because everybody seems to have this purposeful glide even when they're being slapped around or fall down? For once it's the story that's not important and even to the actors it's somewhat of a farce. There is some serious hot-and-heavy going on with Ford and Hayworth and I can't stay away from any scene they're in together. But I think the interspersion of the ridiculous gang story is actually quite helpful because it doesn't make the chemistry too exhaustive. I honestly think this movie is a good blueprint for whomever wants to make a love-hate-misunderstanding film because it never shifts the focus yet doesn't focus TOO deeply.

I usually don't like this type of film - what with the relative lack of plot and everything - but the idea of those two lost souls hanging on to each other is just too gorgeous for words.

A delightful confection of a movie made primarily to showcase Edith Head's sumptuous outfits. It's really an experience to see all these big stars having a grand old time f-cking each other in a big glass of champagne. A satire of sorts, but the main purpose of seeing this movie is to have FUN, because you're never gonna see anything like this again.

Sometimes all you need is a bunch of old film clips and a handful of aging stars to create a masterpiece. This was truly the Golden Age of Hollywood. I NEED to own this collection, immediately.

I knew I was going to like this movie the minute I picked it up. First, the time period. Second, the concept of growing up (the bildungswoman). Third, the DIALOGUE. Funniest, wittiest, most poignant thing ever. It's like, college age Stand By Me, sans adventure and bullies, plus marital strife and job doubts. It's male bonding at its finest. It's 50s age "Friends" with men. It's the thinking man's American Graffiti. It's WONDERFUL. I wouldn't mind seeing a Diner 2 and Diner 3 if Levinson could bring these guys back intact. Also, Mickey Rourke and Tim Daly were so sexy back then. And Ellen Barkin too.

The first (and probably only) Roman Polanski film that has really gripped me beginning to end. The perfect balance between macabre and everyday life. The thing I love most about this movie is that it makes sense. There is no sense of mystery and confusion at the end and I appreciate that from a horror movie. Mia Farrow plays the role of her life - I can't think of a better casting decision, period. It runs slow even though it's only two hours, but I like to think of this movie as an epic horror - the action moves slow but there's always STUFF going on. I also liked the random fertility symbols that popped up, especially the mousse in the napkin representing period blood. Also, the greatest thing: Mia Farrow's OUTFITS. I WANT that wardrobe.

One of the most affecting and audience accessible silent movies ever. Symbolic, full, and innocent. Perfect length.

Sometimes I have the most unreasonable attractions to movies. I know this topic has been covered time and time again, and the ending was complete copout - and by complete I mean COMPLETE - but then I think about the twenty something GenX dialogue, and the constant pop culturing, and the time-tried tug-of-war between reality and ideals, and the difficulties of finding a job and keeping your identity at the same time, and what to do with yourself after college, and sticking with the guy you know you love forever even though it gets so freaking complicated you want to die, and selling out to the corporate monolith but liking it, and the compromising of artistic vision, and feeling pretentious over those who are more successful than you, and the feeling of being simultaneously overloved and underloved at the same time, and the times where inertia overcomes and all you want to do is watch tv and chain smoke forever and talk to a psychic for hours on end, but kicking back and bitching with your friends makes you feel that much better even though nothing has changed, and...oh gosh I could go on and on - everything about this movie is ME. Wino 4ever!

Okay, now after watching this and Let the Right One In I look upon middle school life completely differently. I can't watch another kid's movie without thinking some terrible bullying involving knives or something is going to come soon. I have become desensitized to juvenile violence, I think.

Heather Matarazzo is so impressive I don't even know what to say! I don't look upon her as a little kid but as a human with terrible conflicts going inside her. Solondz has really three-dimensionalized Dawn so that everybody can identify with her and pity her and also hate her at the same time. Everyone has a little bit of Dawn in themselves but she's so extreme you have to laugh. But you understand her too.

Made me understand what black comedy truly is. Just when you think the screenplay can't get more original Solondz throws another curveball at you. The scene that sticks out most is the cake one. WHOA what a bitch mother.

Now this is more like it! A slow, simple story that flows out organically and doesn't force anything. It starts out lightly but somehow manages to pull out a spectrum of emotions: laughter, heartbreak, peace, frustration. Richard Jenkins is truly a work of art. Instead of stealing the show for himself he reacts to the events and people that happen. The story isn't about him, and he doesn't make it about him, and I appreciate that. The change is subtle yet quick and pronounced and Jenkins never breaks character. He leaks grief and jadedness wherever he goes but you can sense when he is really happy and when his passive bubble is burst. This isn't a role with lengthy soliloquys and in fact the character is quite an awkward one but somehow this only makes it more humanistic, more compassionate.

Music is a uniting force in this movie and whomever chose it has a wonderful ear. Good interspersing of African drum beats among the expansive piano runs. The director managed to make New York look very spare but it's never an image of complete coldness. In fact the cinematography is quite warm and this is all owing to Jenkins' quiet sympathy. It just goes to show that depression is not the answer and even though it doesn't end happily I'm left feeling...elevated somehow. Who was really the one most elevated, the immigrants or the professor? I guess the ending shows the professor, the "visitor" was the one that was. I guess the "visitor" is a metaphor for a happenstance upon a really rich culture. I don't know, honestly I'm really struck by Richard Jenkins. I hope he at least gets considered for an Oscar nod. I can't usually tell these things but this nuanced role was played beautifully and naturally.

Seems like I liked this movie a ton better than most. One of the most refreshingly imaginative scripts I've ever had the pleasure of bathing in. It's what I expected Kiss Kiss Bang Bang to be: black black comedy, deadpan, unexpected plot twists, noncommittance, beautiful women and men. It's not without emotion or avoidance of a happy ending either. A vast, vast improvement from Heathers. I will be sure to check this guy out in the future. My one complaint: Noni was CRIMINALLY underused. And what was with the weird voice?

An underrated, still sophisticated Hitchcock exploring the depths of Freudian imagery and repression. Hitch takes his talent for suspense and injects it into something very different from his typical chase-and-evade scenes. I felt the old familiar nervousness during the robbery scene as the shoe drops, drops, drops out of the pocket, only to discover the cleaning lady is deaf. A wonderful scene serving a very different purpose than stock evasion. Although the ending seemed a little too simplistic, it invites you to examine more deeply into the psyches of not only Marnie but also her captor. Icy Hedren and smoking Connery create wonderful antithetical sparks amongst the super-risque material, rape scene included.

How unexpected that this be the film that really caught my interest in 2008.

I always appreciate play-based movies, to be sure, but all that history crap turned me off before I could even give it a chance. But this isn't a history movie - this is a character study of the highest degree. Nobody has praised Frank Langella enough. He doesn't play a well-coiffed irritation, he inhabits the soul of Nixon. He has managed to strip away everything but the essence of Nixon's compulsion to be loved and morally ambiguous actions. It's like that scene in A Few Good Men but less knowingly explosive.

This is a less a history movie than a balletic duel between two inimitable forces. There is parallelism but we're not beaten to the ground by them. Scenes are shown to create emotions. The ending is a bit of a simplification but the movie is aware of that, how television simplifies everything. Rebecca Hall provides some much needed sex appeal. Michael Sheen's performance should rightfully be recognized but Langella makes us forget about him, sadly. I am SO impressed by Ron Howard I don't even know what to say.

This film fairly pulsates with style. The reason I keep on coming back to these play adaptations despite frequent heavyhanded disappointments (see: Doubt) is because I know what they are capable of, if handled correctly. The material is all there: densely packed with emotion but sated with quietude, beautiful people playing beautiful parts and believing in them too, the succulent taste of words words words. All it needs is a strong rope to string all the pieces together. Tennessee Williams has a tendency to read too dramatic and it takes cinema to soften up the dizzying emotions. The transitions between LOUDquietLOUD are flawless. Paul Newman and Liz Taylor are pure sex. I also appreciate the homosexual undertones. One of the best movies I have seen in a long, long time.

Jimmy Stewart is an absolutely brilliant actor. You don't think about it at first but he can display depths of emotions far surpassing his aw-shucks country boy nice guy persona. Kind of like this movie.

One of the few movies that I actually enjoy the "indie"-ness of it all, even including token singer Alexi Murdochl. I like the roller-coaster ride of laughs, and how much you really see John Krasinski and Maya Rudolph appreciate each other, and the crazy descent into earnestness when you least expect it, how you can cry and gasp and totally sympathize and empathize with FINDING A PLACE TO LIVE. I mean, sure, it gets a little too self-aware for my taste and the characters are obviously self-martyred-pretentious but I think the authors are poking fun at that lifestyle a little, as well. Anyway the sentiment is still there and that is all that counts. I really loved it, and I thought I wouldn't.

This film is an absolute masterpiece. It's colorful, whimsical, red, depressing, disgusting, gorgeous, hilarious, and illuminating all at once. It doesn't limit itself to merely being an "adult animation" film, which I love. You can tell Elliot was inspired by a bunch of filmmakers (particularly Wes Anderson) but at the same time his style is uniquely his own. There's a release at the end that comes out in a little pop, cathartic and heartwarming. And I don't usually like to praise voice actors, but Philip Seymour Hoffman's New York Jewishness is ON THE MONEY.

It's happened. It's finally happened.

We were five when Sheriff Woody and Buzz Lightyear first materialized onto the crackling celluloid screen of our childhoods, and nine when we realized how quickly, in a heartbeat, they could be taken away from us. We are now 20.

And Pixar knows it. In what could be considered the smartest marketing decision of the decade, the company spent the brunt of April on a nationwide college campus tour, screening an abridged, "cliffhanger" version of its newest jewel, "Toy Story 3." Because, although in some small way the film might be an opportunity for society's newly-minted children to traverse to infinity and beyond, we all know that in a larger sense, this one was made for us.

At 17, Andy is all grown up and leaving for college. As he begins the interminable task of stuffing his life into hundreds of cardboard boxes, he pauses at his toy chest, glancing into the plastic, immovable eyes of his old friends Woody, Buzz, Jessie, Bullseye, Hamm, Rex and the rest of the gang. From this moment, he faces the decision that every young adult must make. Where do they all go from here: to college, in the attic or into the trash?

And just like that, we're back with our dusty old friends as if it were yesterday. But somehow, just as we've changed, they've changed. The first thing we notice about them, these toys that we cherished like superheroes, is that they've become disposable. Their voices sound wearied and desperate as they creakily move around in their own skins for the first time in eleven years. Their hair has become scribbled with paint drips, their glass shattered by grabby little toddlers. They are, in a word, vulnerable.

Following a series of misunderstandings, the toys find themselves trapped inside the Sunnyside Daycare Center, an ominous prison ruled with an iron fist by the strawberry-scented Lots-O'-Huggin' Bear (Ned Beatty, "Superman") and the metrosexual, Michael Keaton-voiced Ken doll. In a well-constructed caper sequence with tension rivaling Steve McQueen's "The Great Escape," the gang embarks on an exhilarating breakout from Sunnyside.

Once again, Pixar proves itself to be the master of storytelling, maintaining its agile grip on narrative structure and raw emotion.

"Toy Story 3" is romantic, it's hilarious and it's suspenseful. A reprogrammed Buzz, in full-on Latin lover mode, ravishes cowgirl Jessie in a passionate tango. Mr. Potato Head, with his features shakily splayed onto a flour tortilla, partakes in a rather ugly battle with a hungry bird. Watching the security cameras with bated breath, Woody and Slinky edge closer and closer to the cymbal-wielding monkey guard.

At this point, it would be appropriate to note the film's incredible, hyper-kinetic, jaw-dropping (etc.) animation sequences, but who are we kidding? "Toy Story 3" is so past the point of children's territory, we forget altogether that it's an animated film. What's more, "Toy Story 3" is tragic: Upon a dizzyingly steep drop into the roaring incinerator, the toys frantically scramble through the garbage heap, searching for scrap pieces of metal. It's tender: Staring straight into the inferno of death, they realize that the only thing they can do is to hold onto each other. It's heartwrenching: In the last 15-minute sequence, Andy plays with his old friends for the very last time. Like "Finding Nemo" or "The Incredibles," "Toy Story 3" is about family. Like "Wall-E," it's about mass commercialism. And most importantly, it's about us.

Somehow, Pixar manages to take all the emotions associated with growing up and helps us come to that moment of realization that there's a part of us that doesn't want to be left behind. Back then, our toys were our superheroes not because they were shiny or new or equipped with cool gadgets, but because they loved us unconditionally. And as for us, if we would only reciprocate that love for a little while, circling back into childhood for that one brief second, that would be enough for them.

Damn you, Randy Newman. Damn you, Pixar. You've officially made the most exquisite film of the year, a stellar encapsulation of abandonment, love, loss and rebirth - all told through plastic figurines. There's a reason why the studio's collective trophy cabinet is studded with naked gold men: This company is capable of grabbing onto our hearts and yanking the strings in just the right way. Already there's a whisper, just a whisper that Pixar might take the big prize home with them on Oscar night. Although it seems unlikely for that event to ever happen, there's not a movie that would deserve it more.

A Greek tragedy set in the woodsy meth-addled region of the Ozarks. The narrative tautness of this film is incredible.

Meg Ryan is like the cutest thing ever. She and Billy Crystal make a strange but perfectly wonderful pair.

"Anyone? anyone? Bueller?" has been so ingrained into the public jargon it's become a cliche, but that doesn't minimize the absolute delight this movie is. This is escapism and teen bias to the max, but as long as we are aware of bias this movie will never be considered antiauthoritarian. It's just FUN. Plus, Matthew Broderick used to be so sexy. What happened? I blame Sarah Jessica Parker. Mia Sara as Sloane is gorgeous, why couldn't they have ended up together in real life?

The pitter patter bang bang of Rachel McAdams's star-turning performance doesn't give her as nearly enough credit as she deserves. This movie is a Pepto Bismol fizzy glass of champagne full of of loosy goosey screwball fun, and this is largely, wholly thanks to McAdams. How's that for saving an entire film - from frightfully mediocre to completely fantastic? Granted Harrison Ford is a bit of a lemon in this one but it really doesn't detract from the swirling wind-in-your-hair confection it is. And it helps that Patrick Wilson is ridiculously, Ivy League, J. Crew palpitating hot.

I like Janeane Garofalo. I think she's hilarious and sweet, and she seems like a really nice person. And it's nice for her to be able to land a starring role once in a while, because - as this movie points out - she's not "conventionally" beautiful. Though I must say Ben Chaplin's character is possibly the stupidest man this side of the Midwest. Are you sure you really want to date him, Janeane?

According to the personal canon I made during my quasi-productive, mostly dreary week of "spring" break, "Bring It On" ranks as the 36th greatest film I have ever seen, wedged squarely between the more acceptable heavyweights "Unforgiven" (a melancholy Western masterpiece) and "Gilda" (Rita Hayworth, mee-yow!). And yes, I am referring to the cheerleading movie.

"Bring It On" has become a regular fixture on cable television, often blared noisily on the likes of TBS or ABC Family on a lazy Saturday night. So it's not, strictly speaking, a "neglected jewel" of yesteryear. Yet, while so much has already been said about the film - Ian Roberts's marvelous, manic spirit fingers, Eliza Dushku's smokin' ass, bubbly Kirsten Dunst back when she was still relevant - so little about it is given credit.

The modern teen comedy, which debatably originated in early John Hughes filmography, is its own beast. There are the tropes we've come to expect - the inappropriately timed gay jokes, the obligatory pan across a notebook-sketched map of cafeteria cliques, the cheating loser boyfriend - and the movies that adhere faithfully to them. Unremarkable on their own, these films have managed to craft their own discourse over the years. But then there's the trifecta, the films called favorites by even those for whom pubescence is a faraway memory. These movies bring something special to the table, whether brutally displaying the teenage condition ("The Breakfast Club"), cheekily evoking Victorian literature ("Clueless") or satirizing teen cliques and queen bees ("Mean Girls").

What separates "Bring It On" from the likes of these classics is that it's actually really stupid. It's about a group of cheerleaders that rips off a neighboring school's routine and then get second place at a national competition. It's about a goofy, hyper-kinetic girl who breaks up with her lame boyfriend and instantly lands herself a cute one who plays air guitar in his bedroom. In short: stupid.

But it works, maybe because its expectations fall nothing short of conveying the honest, true-to-life adolescent experience. In place of self-aware satire, "Bring It On" goes for the belly laughs - football players fumbling over the pigskin, a montage of "American Idol"-style cheer tryouts. Teenagers aren't portrayed as modern prophets or Holden Caulfield-esque saviors - they're genuinely confused, sometimes cruel, human beings. This authenticity intertwines rather potently with the film's depiction of young love: The tooth-brushing scene (you know which one I mean) is one of the sweetest I've seen in contemporary cinema, admittedly in part due to the crooked smile of one Jesse Bradford. And, it boasts a career-best performance from Kirsten Dunst, emotions shown blankly on her face as she dances like a maniac to a mixtape that serenades her "pom poms" and vows to feed her "bon bons."

And yet, there are the stylistic things that infuse "Bring It On" with its own all-American aesthetic. Decked out in full '90s fashion with belly shirts and crimped hair, the characters develop their own brand of teen jargon: "She puts the 'itch' in 'bitch' " and "Follow me or perish, sweater monkeys" most notably spring to mind. There's camerawork comparable to the heavyweight caliber of Roger Deakins (of Coen Brothers fame), in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of way. Check the whooshing camera tracking from foot to face when introducing, center screen, the head cheerleader of the rival school, Jesus light glimmering in the background.

"Bring It On" gets better and better with every viewing, and there's not many movies you can say that about. I think it's because there's something discreetly original about it.

While you can lump the film into a host of categories - whether a modern screwball made up of bobble-headed ditzes or a postmodern parable on ownership and originality - "Bring It On" is most accurately a film of its own caliber, completely comfortable in its own unremarkable skin.

Toward the end of the film, Torrance says to another character: "I am only cheerleading." That is, both sheepishly and exquisitely, an encapsulation of the entire existence of "Bring It On" - for better or worse.

The codependency of JJ and Falco is one for the books, that slimy, gritty animalistic relationship of prey and predator, agent and sellout - almost homoerotic at times. I haven't been wowed by a film in a such a long time when one creeps up on you you really can't forget it.

Such a messy, fractured movie but I love that sort of hapless, throwaway message of lust and love and hormones and naturalistic/suburban beauty. Because isn't that what adolescence is, so undefinable yet so touchable? I definitely think this is Coppola's best - it's her, all unfettered her.

There is so much to be said about this documentary, but mostly I'm impressed by how frustrated, emotionally charged, exhausted, upset, and downright angry it could make me. Proof that decisions, no matter how logical they might seem, are always up for contention.

Movies like this remind me of the beauty of the documentary and its status as a dying art form. Antarctica is an area oft explored but remains perpetually clothed in mystery. I loved hearing about the each of the "professional dreamers" and how poetic and simple and scientific they all were. What one of the guys said about falling to the bottom of the earth and joining together because they were all loose strands was so, so beautiful and so, so true. Sometimes all you need is a little piece of reality to realize how extraordinary real PEOPLE are. Auteur filmmakers like Herzog really need to make more documentaries because they are the masters of the medium.

It's spooky how good Unforgiven is, how masterful and subtle a director Eastwood can be with the right tools and right script. There is so much history and geography shimmering beneath its surface, of both nostalgia, memory, loss, redemption, authenticity. A fragile, perfectly rendered coda to the death of the Western as we knew it.

Oh my god, the foghorns just kill me. Polanski has long maintained a fetish for brooding obsession that pushes the lines of sexual perversion, yet it is in "Ghost Writer"'s the deft construction of atmosphere and tension where he truly succeeds. The pervasive gloom that taints the air is reminiscent of Hitchcock's classic thrillers, replete with Tim Burton-esque tinkles and the ominous sounds of a distant foghorn. The disillusioned, boozy "ghost" could have come straight out of the 50s film noir reels of Billy Wilder or Orson Welles, a hardboiled writer who purposefully shuts out the drama ensuing behind him. In true fashion, Olivia Williams ("An Education") plays Lang's wife Ruth, the mysterious victim/femme fatale whose intentions are not quite certain.

Indeed, "The Ghost Writer" is much more plot-based than it is character, a move that keeps the audience constantly anticipating each word, twisting with surprises up until the very last frame. At the same time, the film crackles with mordant wit in the most unexpected areas, relieving the audience's buildup of tension for a slight second.

Wtih his lithe construction of tension and gripping tales of intrigue, romance and obsession, Polanski masterfully transforms what quickly could've escalated into a pedestrian chase-and-evade flick into an effective political espionage thriller for those who can't stand the genre. Because the film doesn't claim to be anything more than popcorn entertainment, it manages to succeed beyond its wildest expectations. "Ghost Writer" should be the touchstone against which all post-Oscar-pre-blockbuster films should be measured against, a film that embraces the advent of modern technology while paying homage to one of the greatest filmmakers of all time.

Albert Finney is sososososo hot. This is what Shoot the Moon wants to be but isn't. I'm glad it ends happily - really, really glad.

There is something that is so, so captivating about this film, despite its length. It's like walking through a dream sequence that ends in nightmare.

The biggest surprise of the past year's Academy Awards wasn't the triumph of Kathryn Bigelow or the ominous inclusion of "The Blind Side" to the Best Picture lineup, but rather the nomination of a little Irish film known as "The Secret of Kells," with barely any screenings to its name. The question at the tip of everybody's tongue became: what was the Academy thinking? Yet once "Kells" emerged quietly onto the moviehouse scene, people began to understand. In a year where 3-D glasses and grand IMAX screenings dominated the box office, one can't help but feel that the Academy members that voted for it were onto something, a form of silent rebellion against all things big and explosive.

It's rare that the visual components of a film can so completely saturate its entire being. Indeed, the Irish fairytale story seems to exist wholly for the sumptuous drawings depicting it. A flighty little nymph sprite, with her white hair blowing spiritedly in the wind, guides ribbons of smoke along the geometric curlicues of the screen. Armed with nothing but a pencil, Brendan battles the fearsome Krom Kruit as he catapults himself within a milky plasmatic nebula. And then there are the montages, some whimsical, like filigreed clockwork, some impressionistic, like a smudgy Renoir painting, and some brilliantly naturalistic, featuring jeweled leaves with verdure smeared all over its surface.

Yet although "Kells" features scenes heavily laden with Irish mysticism and subversively pagan rituals, the film could essentially double as a social allegory for modern film industry. Brother Aidan says dishearteningly to Cellach: "You've forgotten how important it is. All you want for us is this wall!" Just replace "it" with "hand-drawing" and "wall" with "hyper-explosive 3-D graphics," and you've got yourself the perfect antidote to James Cameron and his devoted followers.

With a run time of little more than an hour, "Kells" is a refreshingly different take on classic animation, lovingly and defiantly flattened into two dimensions, inspiringly simple - and more than a little trippy. By paying homage to an ancient time where beauty and patience inevitably won out over brute force, the film blends a straightforward morality with sophisticated hand-drawings to stunning visual effect. Truly, it practices what it preaches.

The Sweet Hereafter is exquisite. Innocent, mysterious, prescient, nervy, calm - I love the whole concept of examining a town in the aftershocks of a tragedy; it's like exposing the bone and sinew of a body and running your fingers through the skeleton that remains.

How many times have I seen Clueless? A zillion, at LEAST. How many more times do I want to see Clueless? A zillion more! I think it is girl law to unconditionally love this movie. It's because Paul Rudd is so cute we can't stand it. Not to mention that Alicia Silverstone is a H-o-T-T-i-E in her little white Calvin Klein dress.

The acting was kind of eh (excepting Michelle Pfeiffer, who has molded the role of the villainness to perfection - her decay into evil hag is spellbinding), but my gosh, what a find in director Matthew Vaughn! The cinematography made the theater experience absolutely unforgettable. It's so pretty in a really epic, large scale way. I love that one scene when the camera swoops out of the field where Charlie Cox is talking to Sienna Miller to the starry sky into a round hole in the roof of the dying Peter O'Toole's castle (ha, how many prepositions did I use in the that sentence?). CGI is kept at a minimum, which is admirable. The story is thoroughly engrossing and continually permeates that "magical" feeling. Ending closes off predictably but doesn't drag or seem contrived. Possibly the only negative was Robert DeNiro - he should stay out of comedy.

Giiirl, I do not even care how many people know how much I love this movie. Although the so-called "serious" problem Kristy had with her spineless dad was boring, this brings back childhood memories to the max. Sissy Spacek's daughter was surprisingly impressive, Rachel Leigh Cook was an amazing Mary Ann, and Bre Blair is gorgeous, even at 15 or however old she was. I really want to be friends with all seven of them even though as of now I'm, like, more than four years older than them. I would be Stacey's creepy boyfriend Luca. There is surprisingly a lot of kissing for a middle school movie.

Oh my god this movie made me so uncomfortable. I also think I love it. It's so...on the money it's crazy. Trying to figure out to do long 24 hour stretches, throwing back meaningless shots like there's no tomorrow, getting the megacombo at the Kentacohut, pampering oneself to death, throwing money here and there, carefully selecting an outfit for maximum sex ba-bomb appeal, and for what? To have sex with a guy with a crooked penis. It's a fable on the meaningless of life (in all aspects, not just the Charlize Theron character) that is so, so accurate.