Friday, November 16, 2001

Hollywood suffers from lack of great films
By Jack Bullion
Skiff Staff

It seems kind of weird to think longingly of the year 1999 as days of yore, but when it comes to movies, we practically underwent a golden age some two years ago. Week after week, great movie after great movie rolled off the assembly line: “American Beauty,” “Being John Malkovich,” “Three Kings,” “The Insider,” “Fight Club,” “Magnolia,” “Election,” “Boys Don’t Cry,” “Toy Story 2,” “Topsy-Turvy.” Even in that incredible list, I know that there are films I’m forgetting — that’s how good 1999 was.

Even middling fare from 1999 seemed slightly inspired. The average “The Cider House Rules” actually took a divisive subject like abortion and, miraculously, made it almost corny. Inversely, “The Matrix” was a dumb action movie with some of the most startling action sequences ever filmed. “The Sixth Sense,” which wasn’t quite as great as everyone made it out to be, more than made up for its flaws with its mood and a bulldozer of a twist ending. “The Hurricane,” whose narrative took sloppy liberties with the truth, still contained a great performance from the always reliable Denzel Washington. And “Eyes Wide Shut” may have been weird as hell, but at least it was interesting.

Now, after about two years of cinematic malaise, one would almost feel lucky if just one of those aforementioned 1999 films bowed before audiences. As I watched the producers of “American Beauty” accept their Oscar for best picture (to go with its other nods for best director, actor and original screenplay), I couldn’t help but feel filled with hope. The movie industry was changing.

“American Beauty” was not your standard best picture winner; it played out like a demented sitcom, filled with hope and black humor that dealt with uncomfortable topics like adultery, homophobia, drug abuse and suburban emptiness. Even more inspiring was the fact that “American Beauty” had come from a major studio (DreamWorks), and seemed to indicate a new devotion among the corporate filmmakers to produce films with more substance. And then the year 2000 came along. A year that many film critics claimed to be one of the worst years in movie history.

Kevin Spacey and Haley Joel Osment (who I swear has to be a 32-year-old dwarf; listen to this kid TALK sometime), cloyed us to death in the drippy “Pay it Forward.” “Time Code,” director Mike Figgis’ multiple screen experiment, was diagnosed by most as pretentious on arrival. Leonardo DiCaprio’s return in “The Beach” reminded us all how little we missed him. Compared to all these disappointments, the blissfully low-aiming “Dude, Where’s My Car?” seemed like a breath of fresh air.

I’ll admit it, I loved “Gladiator,” but I never would’ve expected it to win best picture at the Oscars this past spring. Sure, it was nice to see Russell Crowe honored for his fantastic performance in “The Insider” — so what if it was a year late and for the wrong movie? If it weren’t for the welcome appearances of “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon” and “Traffic,” 2000’s Oscar race might have had no substance at all. To be fair, 2000 did have its share of great films: The highbrow shagginess of “Wonder Boys,” the sharply observed family relationships in “You Can Count on Me,” and of course the giddy nostalgia of “Almost Famous.” All three of these movies are building small, devoted followings on video, but they absolutely tanked at the box office.

Movies couldn’t get much worse than they got in 2000, so maybe 2001 would play out as the ultimate rebound year, a grand “do-over” for filmmakers. Or would it?

The early returns for 2001 are discouraging. So far, this year has given us the brilliant jigsaw puzzle “Memento,” and little else. “Moulin Rouge,” depending on your point of view, either came off as daring, breathless post-modernism or monumentally silly self-indulgence — I haven’t made up my mind yet on that one. The movie year of 2000 numbed me so that I didn’t even go see “Pearl Harbor,” 2001’s grandest offering, but mostly I skipped it because I was still trying to recover from the gnawing fatigue that director Michael Bay’s previous film “Armageddon” put me through.

So again, like last year, we’re down to the latest spate of fall movies, geared for the Oscar race, to try and rescue this year from second-rate status. Coming down the pike, we have “The Royal Tenenbaums,” particularly appetizing because it comes from the creators of the cult classics “Rushmore” and “Bottle Rocket,” and another offering from old maestro Robert Altman, “Gosford Park.” The Tom Cruise/Penelope Cruz dyad certainly sparks interest in the upcoming “Vanilla Sky,” but if the couple’s off-screen romance translates to the screen as poorly as Russell Crowe’s and Meg Ryan’s did in “Proof of Life,” then we’re in for some trouble. And I don’t know what to make of “Ali” yet. On the plus side, it’s directed by the always able Michael Mann who directed “The Insider.” But it basically looks like “The Hurricane” redux — only this time with Will Smith instead of Denzel. And the moment I hear a corn-ball commemorative rap song from Big Willie, I’m officially out on it.

As the year in movies that is 2001 continues to slip through our fingers, one can’t help but think that maybe 1999 was both a blessing and a curse. Without a doubt, it’s beginning to look like one of the best years for quality movies in the history of film. However, at the same time, maybe filmmakers shot all their bullets in 1999, leaving audiences to suffer for the cinematic greatness of the last year of the 20th century with a dearth of good movies in the years to follow.

Jack Bullion is a senior English major from Columbia, Mo.
He can be contacted at (j.w.bullion@student.tcu.edu).