Happy New Year dear reader, we hope you’re overcoming the Christmas diabetes and the urge to slaughter your entire family. Either way, this list will make you feel better about the world or make you want to hunt us down in our homes like you did your Aunty Mary. Anyway you’re reading it, so we have the moral victory.
Martha Marcy May Marlene
The year’s best horror. All creeping tension and unspoken threats, filmed with unnervingly beautiful expressionistic cinematography.
Not since LA Confidential has Hollywood reminded us that there’s a certain type of film that only it can do, which is the reason, deep down, we all love it. Beautifully acted, written and directed, tense, funny and heart-breaking… you know the reason we to go to the cinema.
The Turin Horse
You can forget all your zombies, aliens and giant robots, when the world ends it’ll probably end like this; dry wells, stubborn horses, uncooperative fuel and potatoes… lots of potatoes. Though it probably won’t look as beautiful as Tarr’s swansong.
The Dark Knight Rises
It wasn’t a unanimous decision here at Anti/Type HQ, but it had more balls than pretty much every other blockbuster of the year smashed together like some testicle version of Devastator, and even though it occasionally reached and never quite grasped, in this day and age we consider reaching a victory.
Paul Thomas Anderson wrong foots us again. A film that you can’t truly form an opinion on upon first viewing. As dense as the finest literature.
Beasts of the Southern Wild
The film that came from nowhere and swept the rug from under us. As alive and as restless as débuts really only can be. A tragic epic of magic realism, with performances that are as natural as the bayou.
Killing them Softly
‘My friend, Thomas Jefferson is an American saint because he wrote the words ‘All men are created equal’, words he clearly didn’t believe since he allowed his own children to live in slavery. He’s a rich white snob who’s sick of paying taxes to the Brits. So, yeah, he writes some lovely words and aroused the rabble and they went and died for those words while he sat back and drank his wine and fucked his slave girl. This guy wants to tell me we’re living in a community? Don’t make me laugh. I’m living in America, and in America you’re on your own. America’s not a country. It’s just a business. Now fuckin’ pay me’
The rest of the film as good as Pitt’s masterful delivery of the greatest speech of the year.
It didn’t just kick dirt in the Stallone-disaster’s face, it placed a lawgiver to its head, turned it up to hi-explosive and told it to grow some balls. Verhoeven would be proud of this lean, mean film, and more importantly so would Wagner, Ezquerra, Mills and Tharg himself.
Berberian Sound Studio
Peter Strickland takes his place at Anti/Type’s favourite new directors table (we like to think he shared a mince pie with Ben Wheatley). Scary, gaudy and disorientating, just like the films it is so obviously in love with.
A Swiss cheese of a film – full of holes but pretty damn tasty. And c’mon, name us a time travel film without holes. Okay, Primer. But Primer, as brilliant as it is, doesn’t have Looper‘s humanity, characters you can actually care about. Three dimensional characters with flaws and ambiguities at that… and none of them more 3D than Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s face.