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In just his second film, Carlos Reygadas has proven to be a filmmaker of assured visual style. As with his previous film Japon, Reygadas displays a unique fascination with the unattractive naked bodies of his non-professional actors and a poetic distancing from the narrative of the film itself. This is ostensibly speaking, classic film noir – a man (Marcos) has remorse about a kidnapping gone wrong and is torn between his love for the prostitute daughter of his boss and seeking atonement for the crime he has committed. Practically all of the film’s major events (ie. the kidnapping) are left off-screen and the film focuses instead on a mix of Marcos engaging in hard sex with Ana (the film has two very graphic depictions oral sex), and some heavy-duty symbolism of religion and the Mexican state. It’s stunning to look at, and Reygadas’ effective use of Bach on the soundtrack goes a long way, but beneath it all I’m not too sure there is a great deal of substance here

This is a much smaller film than Gilliam is accustomed to making, and I think it worked wonders for him. A Canadian production, this twisted little tale tells the heartbreaking story of a young girl (10 yr. old Jodelle Ferland, in brilliant performance) who is forced to take care of her drug addicted parents, even going so far as to help them shoot-up. She escapes this nightmarish home life by retreating into her imagination, and the film becomes a Gilliamesque “Alice in Wonderland” of sorts. Filled with a cast of eccentric characters, and some stunning camerawork, this is a welcome return to the imaginative filmmaking of the Terry Gilliam of old.

I am now fairly convinced that the Brothers quay are not capable of making a feature length film, and even more so, a film with live actors. What starts out as a promising story—a piano tuner is hired by a mysterious inventor of automatons to help clean up his precious inventions—quickly morphs into a drawn out series of half-baked ideas. The performances are wooden, and the Quay brothers seem to acknowledge the shortcomings of their actors by editing the live-action stuff to shambles. Some life occasionally pops into the film when the Quay’s adopt the stop-motion stuff that the are accustomed to, but for the most part it seems at odds with the rest of the film, which dully plays out to be as lifeless as the animated automatons it depicts.

Written and produced by Luc Besson, this action film tells the story of a France of the future, where dangerous ghettos are blocked off by a large wall to exist separate from the rest of civilization. It stars David Belle, the inventor of the trend sport parkour, wherein participants tackle urban landscapes by running and leaping their way through any obstacle that may come in their way. There is an opening chase scene which is quite extraordinary, but the film unfortunately is never able to top the initial thrill it gives, and eventually this becomes your standard no-brainer action flick, complete with ticking time bomb. In a perfect world this would have been more Ma 6-T Va Crack-er and less Vin Diesel.

Not quite the masterpiece that some have been claiming, this is nonetheless a very worthy and inventive film from the great Kitano. A deconstruction of the persona of ‘Beat’ Takeshi with “stream of conscious” narrative structure, it’s not hard to draw up the Fellini comparisons, although Chaplin’s “Limelight” is another worthy film to reference (just as Chaplin was forever seen as “The Tramp,” so Kitano is forever associated as the bad ass Yakuza). The elliptical editing is really something of a marvel and should be enough for even detractors of his work to finally recognize the “edited by” credit Kitano always takes, as signs of where his true filmic mastery lies. Frequently hilarious, I got the feeling that for every one “In-joke” I was picking up on, at least two were passing me by, so in this sense, the film might be a bit too esoteric for most Americans.

Three different stories each set during a pivotal time in Taiwanese history, and each featuring the same actors playing out variations of the same characters. Hou has made a beautiful and deeply moving film as he constructs each of his stories in a different style, the 1911 passage for instance is rendered faithful to the cinema of its time, silent with intertitles. The first passage set in 1966 and entitled “A Time of Love,” was probably my favorite – eloquent long takes in a pool hall as a young soldier falls for the girl who works there as music by The Platters emanates from the radio – this was 45 minutes of flawless filmmaking that had me transported in its sheer perfection. The last section is perhaps the most difficult to place, it would be unfair to call it a shortened version of Millenium Mambo, but there are certainly the same existential questions of youth handled in a similar manner. Needless to say, this is without a doubt a masterpiece, and has an incredible amount to say about Taiwan and its history, communication, music, and cinema itself.

Nothing wrong with this one per se, it’s just that I’ve seen this story many times before and told with greater fluidity in works like Mouchette, Kes, and even the underrated Ratcatcher. Performances are top notch by the non-professional children actors and there is some stunning cinematography of the autumn drenched Poland town. Michal Nyman’s heavy-handed musical score goes a long way towards hammering home the emotion, which would explain the many sniffling patrons as the end credits rolled.

Ha ha, I get it. I too have seen Bad Taste and Evil Dead II. Remember when that eyeball shot out of a creatures head in Evil Dead II and sailed across the room into that girl’s mouth? Wasn’t that hilarious? Or how about the end of Dead Alive when he grabs a lawnmower and the film turns into a pool of fake blood and guts, wasn’t that just grand? This movie is crap.

I’m not sure which was more disturbing, the brutally honest indignation of American values that this film depicted, or the oblivious audience I saw it with who missed the point entirely. The fact that this audience felt the need to applaud every time someone was brutally killed on-screen was almost like a twisting of the knife, confirming the wicked truth behind every frame of this masterful film. Cronenberg has for all intents and purposes made a modern day Sirk film where image and subtext are everything (look at that wallpaper!). I look forward to seeing this one again, ideally in a place slightly more detached from that, which is illustrated in the film.

Much better than I anticipated, but not quite up to level that Dogville was, this certainly won’t win Lars any new supporters. The political implications are certainly far more applicable to the world of today (eg. US occupation of Iraq), than they are any sort of meaningful commentary on America’s history of slavery and racism. Bryce Dallas Howard is a worthy predecessor for Nicole Kidman, her performance plays like an alluring interpretation of a similar, yet alternate psyche of the same character. She should win considerable acclaim for this role, but the impressive supporting cast is largely wasted, and in the end character is one of this film’s biggest downfalls. Where Dogville was able to function on many different levels, simultaneously a straightforward drama, an experiment in Brechtian detachment, and an allegory for the immigrant experience, Manderlay is merely allegory, and fails to exist as anything else. Here’s hoping that the third film tries something new…

It’s hard to imagine how Bertrand ever expected audiences would go for this naïve excuse for “dreamlike imagery,” and possibly mistake it for cinema. Not a single image in this sorry excuse for a movie carries to it a purpose or desire to be anything more than window dressings to an undeveloped and boring story. It’s not even worth recounting a “plot summary” because the film has no idea what it wants to be about. Instead I should be figuring out how this ever got into this festival.

The film of the festival so far! Ferrara is at the top of his game in this, his most compassionate film to date. A deeply powerful look at religion, the soul, and its place in the Hollywood machine, this is the story of a director (Matthew Modine) who makes a Christ film as a means to exploit the religious dollar in American theater goers (Mel Gibson anyone?). Beautifully mixing video and film, and utilizing his typical flair for cityscapes and brutal close-up framing, this represents the apotheosis for years subtle religious undertones in Ferrara’s work that seems to have boiled over here, and exploded onto the screen in a rage of post-9/11 self-affirmation. Forrest Whitaker turns in the performance of his career.

Very effective thriller about a small cattle farm that consents to allow a bio-tech corporation perform genetic tests on the cows and the horrible side effects that ensue. This is heavily indebted to David Cronenberg’s “Shivers,” but O’Brian ups the overall ickiness of the plot by adding a great deal gruesome dissection footage. Killer horror film score and some able Scope photography makes this one of the better genre films of the year.

Another puzzling, yet masterfully constructed look at the breakdown of a bourgeois family from Michael Haneke. Taking the formal approach of his “Seventh Continent,” and mixing in the impending doom of “Funny Games,” this is a darkly pragmatic look at not only the way we view our own lives, but the role that cinema plays in this view, implicating the viewer in on the proceedings of this disturbing puzzle. It’s near impossible to discuss this on any sort of substantial level without disclosing some serious plot details -- the ending for example has left many scratching their heads -- although the answer might not be as elusive as some might think. Haneke is asking us to seriously engage the images onscreen (ie. camera placement), and your ability to reflect on this goes a long way towards your appreciation of the film.

A major letdown after Cantet’s previous work, this is a capable film, but nothing to cheer about. It tells the story of three women, all French, but from different regions of the world, who get caught up in jealousy and romance with young male escorts at their Haitian vacation resort. The performances (especially Charlotte Rampling) and the location photography are all first-rate, but Cantet fumbles the ball when he tries to extend the film into a message about class and race relations. Maybe down the road once he has built up a larger body of work, this film may pick up a deeper meaning, but as it stands now, it’s a bit forgettable.

I have to believe that this story about a man addicted to gambling who extends his addiction into every facet of his life by resting each decision he makes on the outcome of a roll of the dice, is more of a guilty pleasure for the gambler in me, than a successful film. Svoboda elicits some lifelike performances from his two leads by the fact that he shoots the movie on video; with the abundance of footage he accumulated producing some magical unscripted moments. Think of this as “Run, Lola, Run” for the “Rounders” fans out there

Started out amazing, with comparisons to Hellzapoppin’ and Seijun Suzuki running through my mind, but quickly fizzled out, before eventually turning into a bit of a bore. There is an abundance of references to all things Thai (the films of Ratanaruang were one of the few things I was able to pick up on), so many of the jokes came across as nonsensical absurdity to this American. Hongrattanaporn has an inventive sensibility, so I will keep an eye out for his future work, but this is one you can skip over.

Welcome back Steven Soderbergh! Aiming for the opposite side of the spectrum of his George Clooney collaborations, Soderbergh has (in one of the biggest surprises if the festival) made a very small, concise, and yet effective film. Working entirely with non-professional actors and shooting on HD video, the lives of these working class protagonists is palpable amidst the sharply realized class observations. There are also some underpinnings of film noir, as the story deal with the effects on a couple of co-workers when a beautiful but manipulative girl gets a job at their factory. This is easily Soderbergh’s best film since The Limey.

A contemporary western from the macho Eastwood school of filmmaking, which features what will probably be an Academy Award nomination from Jones. It’s not a bad western, but I fond myself more or less ambivalent towards these characters and their journey of honor and redemption. People have been comparing this to Peckinpah, if only because the protagonists have a body in tow, but if you show up expecting Peckinpah you will be sorely disappointed. The script is more than a bit mechanical and there are elements of some warped misogyny that seemed more than a bit unnerving. I plan on seeing this again, but I’m fairly confident that this is one film that many critics are severely overrating.

It’s not hard to see why a jury headed by Abbas Kiarostami would go for this at Cannes where it shared the Camera D’or. Featuring one of the most memorable shots I’ve seen this year – a frozen hand protrudes from a still lake under the dawn of a new day – Jayasundara has constructed a powerful, and dreamlike statement on the condition of Sri Lanka that is ravaged by civil war. The long takes are pure Kiarostami, but the characters of this film move about and interact with their environment in a way that reminded heavily of the work of Satyajit Ray. *please note* that due to a combination of festival fatigue and an untimely fire alarm during the screening, that I won’t be assigning this a rating. Needless to say however, this is pretty strong stuff.

I’ve never been an ardent fan of Chereau’s work, and I also consider Joseph Conrad to be one of THE great writers of all time, so perhaps this is why this trite little film just didn’t work for me. The lead performances reek of theatricality and the stylish cinemascope photography, which bounces between black-and-white to saturated color, offers nothing to chew on. To complicate matters further, Chereau employs the hammy technique of occasionally stripping an actor of their line and presenting it as text on-screen in BIG BOLD LETTERS. I expect some will fall head-over-heels for this at the NYFF, but this is one film that feels trivial amidst a festival of this size and depth.

A very uncharacteristic film from Egoyan, which still has me pondering where this fits into the filmmaker’s oeuvre, but stands as a strong enough film in its own right. The allusions to Martin and Lewis tend to complicate many people’s appreciation of this mysterious story about a comic duo coping with a past of drugs, sex, lies, and possibly murder. Where the source novel was an explicit reference to a Martin and Lewis, Egoyan tries his hardest to create something totally new (Kevin Bacon and Colin firth are indeed strange casting choices) and the result is a transfixing throwback to the dreamy aura of classic Hollywood mixed with the hard edged approach to sex that many 70’s neo-noir’s adopted. Egoyan continues to explore his fascination with image and memory – in this case the image of celebrity – and its role in confirming/contrasting one’s own views of the self. The NC-17 rating given this film by the MPAA is completely undeserved and the fact that it kept someone I know from seeing the film, as the controversy gave her impressions of hard sex a la Breillat, only enrages me further. Egoyan has my respect for releasing the film unrated (even though this means many theater chains won’t touch it now) and the MPAA has my middle finger pointing straight at their prudish, bungling snouts, for once again proving that American cinema loves graphic depictions of murder and but cannot tolerate artistic eroticism. Photo found here.

Not a major film from Kwan, but a worthy entry into the filmmaker’s already accomplished body of work. The story follows the rise and fall of a beautiful model (played to stunning perfection by Sammi Cheng) in Shanghai from 1947-1981. The early sections set in the pre-revolution decadence of Shanghai – a world of glamorous gowns and fancy smoke filled dining rooms -- may remind many of Wong’s In the Mood For Love. The film then begins to progress at break-neck pace into the Cultural Revolution wherein the visuals appropriately take on a cramped feeling of order and plainness, and eventually we come into the modernization of China in the early 80’s. Kwan does his best to construct a heartfelt pageant to a city he loves, and his characters are deftly realized, however, the film is paced in such a way that things feel glossed over. This is one film that would truly benefit from a 3-hour running time.

Like the art house fav from earlier this year Me and You and Everyone We Know, director Michael Cuesta has turned in a remarkable sophomore effort that deals with young children—each of whom are coping with very ‘grown-up’ issues—and the childlike adults that surround them. Cuesta has abandoned the Larry Clark that was channeled in his earlier L.I.E, and replaced it with something a little more wholesome. He films his young actors with a brutal honesty, unafraid if what he is showing might be misinterpreted as misanthropic comedy a la Todd Solondz. It’s shot on DV, but it feels like a larger picture with the serious issues it confronts and the tremendous performances it elicits. This was the discovery of the festival for myself.

I got the sense that much of the audience at my screening was letdown that this was not simply a retread to Clark’s groundbreaking Kids. As it stands, we have a gentle, far more sensitive approach to this verité rendered tale of six immigrant youths (no they are not Mexican), wherein Clark reveals he is not the perv-artisit so many have labeled him. The film starts off with pokerfaced seriousness, the camera lingering in extreme close-up on the subtle details of the actor’s faces (skin blemishes, an out of place hair, an innocent smile), but eventually evolves into something far more playful. Embracing the Punk attitudes of his young protagonists, Clark takes his film into Repo Man territory, turning the film into a full-blown satire (think The Twilight Zone suburban anxiety of John Cheever’s “The Swimmer”). It’s a commendable film, offering a different side of this audacious filmmaker.

A harrowing masterpiece, executed with the usual formal brilliance of the Dardenne brothers indelible body of work. Once again the focus is on lower-class Belgium; a young homeless couple is shattered by the unspeakable actions of the young father who indifferently sells their newborn child as a means to better their own existence. It quickly becomes apparent that the journey the film embarks on, although documentary in its feel, is a deeply metaphorical venture into the spiritual quest for redemption of the true l’enfant of the story, the father. No filmmakers working today are capable of stripping a narrative film of all pretensions in such a way as the Dardennes, who offer a genuine peak into the depths of the human soul. The final chase scene is infused with such urgency and embittered consequence, I found myself in awe, this is what cinema is all about.

Given how crazy I went for Park’s previous entry into stylized manga violence, this rating should speak for itself. The film is drawn out with superfluous characters and events, and though the climax is something to behold for exploitation fans, it’s just a tasty morsel in an otherwise bland plate of leftovers.

Called the Japanese answer to Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings, I’d sooner watch this film on repeat than endure either of those successful US franchises a second time. It’s possible to go into detail about how Miike manages to make it all work, proving once again that he is one of the sharpest most resourceful filmmakers on the planet, but the bottom line is that this film does exactly what it was meant to do, and it’s a fucking blast. To follow up a film like Izo, with something like this... isn't it time we promote this guy to the Masters programme?

42. Dirty Ho (1979, Hong Kong) Liu Chia-liang - ** worth seeing

43. One Missed Call (2003, Japan) Takashi Miike - *** a must see (I'm serious, look at what Miike does with this tiresome genre of post-Ringu films)

44. Gamera: Guardian of the Universe (1995, Japan) Shusuke Kaneko - * has redeeming facet

45. Ginger Snaps (2000, Canada) John Fawcett - *** a must see

46. The Mission (1999, Hong Kong) Johnnie To - ** worth seeing

47. Cyclo (1995, Vietnam) Tran Anh Hung - **** Masterpiece

48. Palindromes (2004, USA) Todd Solondz - 2nd viewing [*** downgraded slightly]

49. Land of Silence and Darkness (1971, Germany) Werner Herzog - *** a must see

50. Going Places (1974, France) Bertrand Blier - *** a must see

51. Dawn of the Dead (1978, USA) George A. Romero - 8th? viewing

52. The Pornographer (2001, France) Bertrand Bonello - * has redeeming facet

53. Flightplan (2005, USA) Robert Schwentke - * has redeeming facet

54. The Aristocrats (2005, USA) Paul Provenza - ** worth seeing - generous rating considering that they edit this film to shit.

55. Dolls (1987, USA) Stuart Gordon - ** worth seeing

56. Hotel (2001, UK) Mike Figgis - • worthless

57. The Exorcism of Emily Rose (2005, USA) Scott Derrickson - ** worth seeing