As 2012 came to end, the opportunity arose to reflect on our year of viewing films. Some were good. Some were great. Some were awful. Some warranted a refund.

Here, we focus on the good to great: Those films that churned something within us — in a public theater. Those films that touched us — again, in public. Those films that we just couldn’t stop thinking about.

For full reviews, please click on the blue links.

Jared Wade’s Top Five Movies of 2012

5. Sleepwalk With Me 

I’m not sure 2012 was a good year for movies. I struggle to actually come up with a list of five that I can honestly say I’ll still be talking about three years from now. Sleepwalk With Me is definitely one that, if it gets brought up during a bar conversation I’m having in 2017, I’ll casually mention, “Oh yeah, I saw that. For sure check it out. Good stuff.” I don’t know that I would tell anyone “You have to see this,” and that goes for most of the other movies I saw this year.

My number five could have just as easily been a mainstream release like Ted (hilarious), Lincoln (Daniel Day Lewis is the world’s best actor), Silver Linings Playbook (Bradley Cooper’s best performance), The Grey (surprisingly deep … seriously), Skyfall (good Bond), 21 Jumpstreet (rather good against all odds), The Hunger Games (expected garbage; received a good flick), Five-Year Anniversary (funny enough), Expendables 2 (BOOM) or even The Dark Knight Rises (holy muddled, Batman, but a fitting end). Really, I would probably rather recommend one of the great documentaries I saw this year. (The Other Dream Team, How to Survive a Plague, Chimpanzee and The Queen of Versailles, in particular, are all worth your time.)

But I’ll go with Sleepwalk: an entertaining, semi-autobiographical movie from Mike Birbiglia. It is refreshingly original and shows what good work can come if you just give a small budget to a talented man with a voice and let him film something personal.

4. Zero Dark Thirty

This movies biggest strength is also it’s biggest weakness. The reason it is so powerful as you’re watching it is that it feels like an insider’s look at how the CIA worked during the decade after 9/11. You are taken through a very linear account of how one woman, against all odds and despite a lack of support from her superiors, found and killed Osama bin Laden. She is a very strong character, and the depictions of realistic violence and action are unlike anything I’ve ever seen in film. It is griping, and you feel as though you are watching an amazing tale.

Then you realize that’s what it is: a tale.

While senators and NGOs can debate the torture-related plot points and whatnot, that isn’t the real issue. To me. It’s just that it ultimately doesn’t pass the smell test of what could have plausibly happened. A few characters are just too convenient, and the lead role has to be an amalgam of other people — perhaps dozens of them. It may not be fabrication, but it feels so massaged, after you finish watching and really think about it, that a lot of the initial power of the movie wears off.

Stuff like that can work wonderfully when the movie’s tone is that of, say, Charlie Wilson’s War, and you ultimately know that the filmmakers are taking liberties in terms of truth to support a different, more interesting narrative. But when the best part of the film is its ability to keep you wanting to know what the next step in the time line was and when its attempt to depict an accurate account of history is dubious at best, it loses a lot.

That said, it was obviously still very good, and the experience of watching it stuck with me longer than almost any other film of 2012. Bad year for movies or not, Kathryn Bigelow made a captivating movie and created one of the best leading female characters I’ve seen on screen.

3. Argo

Ben Affleck didn’t dream up anything too deep here: it’s just an excellent story about what was previously a trivial foot note in history. And he expertly takes a quirky story and, most impressively, doesn’t muck it up. Instead, hedevelops rich, rounded characters who are easy to love and walks them through a tense time line of events that every American can’t help but hope works out well. It’s like Air Force One, but without all the cheesy action-movie tropes that turn that movie into a camp classic. In short, it’s just a simple, fantastic little film.

Disagree? Argo f*** yourself.

2. Looper

The best part of Looper is a diner chat between old Joe (John MCclane) and young Joe (Joseph Gordon-Levitt). The whole discussion is excellent, but the filmmakers use one specific moment to break the fourth wall and slap every overly pedantic viewer in the face. “I don’t want to talk about time travel,” says Bruce Willis, “because if we start talking about it then we’re going to be here all day talking about it, making diagrams with straws.”

Exactly.

Time travel makes no empirical sense. If you actually think about the Terminator franchise, it eventually falls apart. Every time travel-related narrative does, simply because no filmmakers — and only a handful of viewers — have a Stephen Hawking-level understanding of string theory and the quantum universe that would have to exist for traveling in time to not just be dumb. Thus, as a viewer, you just have to accept that it works for the story but ultimately doesn’t in reality.

For Looper, that shouldn’t be a problem unless you just like hating things to hate them. Because it is ultimately less a movie about time travel and instead one that just uses that box-office-friendly contrivance to make an eloquent point about nature vs. nurture and how we — both as family units and a society — reap what we sew in terms of the decisions we make.

1) The Avengers

I have never read comic books, but I have been all in on the Iron Man universe since the first movie came out. I even enjoyed the second one quite a bit. So when they brought back Tony Stark to battle his biggest foe yet  — and teamed him up with the whole gang — there was a good chance I was going to dig it no matter what.

But the fact that the filmmakers hit a grand slam here for 80 percent of the running time, while finally creating a Hulk that could steal the show, made this about as much fun as you can have going to the movie theater. Yeah, there were a few plot elements that didn’t work, some scenes that were kinda stupid and a couple of the characters that were altogether pointless (shout out to Renner and Scarlett). But it’s easy to overlook those minor flaws when Hulk is that cool. The Avengers is the best comic book movie ever made, and the flick of the year for 2012.

Tim Adkins’ Favorite Five Movies of 2012

5) Wreck-It Ralph

I don’t have kids. Don’t plan to. But when I sat in the theater watching this film, I really wished my 6-year-old nephew was sitting next to me sharing a giant candy bar and shouting “Whoa!” or “Awesome!” at every scene that looked to him like the new coolest thing ever. As it were, this movie was a lot of fun and pretty well made.

4) Jiro Dreams of Sushi

In short, the best food porn of this year. Or any other. It also offered an interesting history of the global delicacy. While the story wasn’t as fully realized as I wanted it to be, Jiro did call to mind my grandfather. And I generally appreciate things that call to mind my grandfather.

3) Smashed / The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I’d like to pick just one of these, but I’m not sure I can. I really enjoyed the acting in each, and I dug that each story had balls enough to avoid most Western movie cliches. If Smashed had cast anyone other than Aaron Paul as the male lead, I’d probably give the edge to Perks for its nearly perfect use of Pittsburgh’s Fort Pitt Tunnel as both a location and a story device.

2) The House I Live In

The most important film of the year. Easily. Advocacy films have become a terribly unfortunate trope. All they really achieve is bias confirmation. Despite the attachment of the George Soros Foundation as a source of funding, this film is very difficult to dismiss.

It presents a cogent argument for why the United States’ War on Drugs has failed — and why it was doomed from the start. (You cannot win a war against the dreaded “other” when most of the others are actually us.)

Paired with Michelle Alexander’s The New Jim Crow, The House I Live In gives us strong evidence for finally having a grown-up conversation about our relationship with drugs and our criminal justice system. Here’s hoping it also begins the end of the exceptionally ill-thought War on Drugs.

1) Beasts of the Southern Wild

No film released this year had more life in it. It reminded me of some of my favorite things about my favorite Giuseppe Tornatore films. Of course, it lacked the polish of Tornatore’s work. What it did have, however, was a raw beauty. And it was proud of itself for existing because it knew just how impossible it can be to exist.

Bill Coffin’s favorite Movies Watched in 2012

5) Tron Legacy

I don’t think this came out in 2012, but 2012 is when I saw it, and this movie rocked me. Yes, it’s not a great story. But as far as visual spectacles go, it was mind-blowing. Kind of like if Disney tried to do the Matrix … and I mean that as a compliment.

But what really put this one over the top for me was the Daft Punk soundtrack, which transformed this from a sequel/reboot of the 1982 classic to a CGI rock opera that managed to capture the feeling of that early 1980s fascination with a digital world we were just beginning to understand — and imagine.

4) Prometheus

Yes, this was one of the most feckless first-contact teams ever, but overall, I loved this movie, both on its own merits and for the way in which it fit into the larger Alien/Blade Runner canon. Really nice bit of continuity engineering, that. Plus, this movie gets credit for teaching every red-blooded American the four magic words that are guaranteed to get Charlize Theron to hop in the sack with you: “Are you a robot?”

3) Bernie

This is another 2011 release, but Jack Black blew me away in this true crime story about a peculiar crime involving a peculiar man in a peculiar East Texas town. The way in which writer Skip Hollandsworth moved in and out of the fact and fiction of this fascinated me, as did Black’s immersion into his role. And Matthew McConaughey wrapping himself up in a Texas accent and slick demeanor worthy of a slow clap.

2) The Cabin in the Woods

Holy chainsaw, did I love this movie. It was just a hugely entertaining and hugely clever meta-statement about the horror genre that in its way managed to explain every other horror movie ever made. With terrific sly winks at the audience while retaining a sense of control, this is that most rare movie that was playing with the rules and you loved it for it. Plus, it is the first horror movie I’ve seen in a while that appears to not be interested in a sequel.

1) The Avengers

This is the comic book movie I’ve been waiting for my entire life. It’s not just a fantastic superhero story, it’s really the perfect Marvel superhero story. You can’t overlook how fundamentally different Marvel superheroes are from, say, DC or other sources. There is a particular quality and tone to them that Marvel-philes love, and Joss Whedon and Co. just nailed it.

Steve Barker’s 2012 Movies of Note

Marley

Having already seen the 1991 documentary Marley Story a number of times I was skeptical that I wouldn’t gain any new insight on Bob Marley from the 2012 release Marley. But where Story stuck to the positive parts of Marley’s life — he was a peacemaker, a songwriter and a family man — Marley tells the whole story from the people who knew him best. The documentary doesn’t shy away from the fact that he was a womanizer and could sometimes be a control freak.

The film runs just under two and a half hours, and I found myself wanting more when the final credits rolled. It’s my vote for best documentary of the year.

For Greater Glory: The True Story of Cristiada

This is by no means one of the top movies of the year. It’s underdeveloped, and I’m not convinced it’s historically accurate since the Knights of Columbus financed it. It seems slightly skewed in favor of the National League for the Defense of Religious Liberty, a group of Mexican civilians who fought their government for religious freedom during the Cristero War. There is a scene where they burn 50 innocent people alive and play it up as an unfortunate accident.

I only mention the film because of the phenomenal performance by Mauricio Kuri. Kuri plays Jose, a young boy who joins up with the League. Kuri was extremely convincing as Jose and was able to hold his own on screen with Andy Garcia. The film is worth watching just to see this emerging star.

Sara Palin: You Betcha!

I love Nick Broomfield’s filmmaking style. He isn’t concerned with preparation or organization; he just grabs his camera and starts shooting, which is evident in You Betcha!, maybe even more so than some of his other films.

With this documentary, he shows what everybody has been assuming for years: Sara Palin is a huge c***, er, “vile person.” He interviews people she’s stepped on to advance her career as well as high school friends and former coworkers, who share stories of how uninformed on politics and governmental procedure she really is.

The movie is interesting as well as infuriating, as it shows that someone as terrible as Palin made it so close to the White House.

Savages

This was the movie I was most excited about for 2012. And boy was I disappointed. The positives are that it’s shot really well and Benicio Del Toro can still put on a great performance even when he’s in the middle of a movie that seems so concerned with style it forgets about plot and character development.

The story is cliché, and none of the characters are likable enough for the audience to care if they live or die. I don’t understand why a movie that is trying so hard to be hip would cast John Travolta. He was cool in Pulp Fiction and that’s it. The only scripts he should be getting are for Old Dogs 3 or something where he’s the voice of an animated pup with a Brooklyn accent.

Ted

This was another movie that seemed promising, but overall left me disappointed. It seems as though Seth Macfarlane tried to stick as many jokes as he could in the movie that he was never able to get away with on network TV. I love a good politically incorrect joke; the problem was they just weren’t that funny.

The only part of the movie I felt was well done was the scene where Marky Mark and Ted do coke. It was one of the most realistic depictions of people on coke I’ve seen in a movie. People on coke are annoying, blathering idiots and the filmmakers nailed it in this movie.

Overall, it’s good for a few cheap laughs, but I don’t see it having the re-watchability like some other raunchy comedies.

Dustin Freeley’s Top Movies of 2012

5) Django Unchained

While not as tight as Inglourious Basterds in the script department, Django Unchained continues Tarantino’s revisionist history portion of his canon. Set in the antebellum South, Django investigates our obsession with violence and how it becomes acceptable when legally sanctioned. Much like Hitler in Basterds, some folks get their proper comeuppance, and its exploitatively glorious.

4) The Master

First and foremost, The Master is beautifully shot, and Phoenix – if he would just get out of his own way – is superb as the twisted, drunk Richard III-like Freddie Quell. But, Anderson’s ambitions here might be too lofty for what he presents to his audience.

Much like the churning waves that begin the film, there are a number of tangential themes weaving in and out of this film, churning in another’s wake. This tactic can be at once phenomenal and weak.

The Master makes us think – a lot – but it also feels, at times, underdeveloped and shortchanging. Regardless, it’s Paul Thomas Anderson, and it’s certainly worth a look.

3) Zero Dark Thirty

Kathryn Bigelow relays the hunt for Osama bin Laden into a docudrama-style chronicle rather than an action-packed thrill ride. As the demagogues will note: there is torture in this film, but its overall discussion would best be described as “gray.” Torture exists; it existed during the search for bin Laden. This is not a secret. Whitewashing it away is indicative of a systematic problem that goes deeper than employing torture. Bigelow doesn’t shy away from it, but she doesn’t glamorize it or castigate it. If nothing else, Zero Dark Thirty is technically brilliant, specifically the last thirty minutes.

2) Amour

Michael Haneke is no stranger to creating tension and leaving his audience devastated. Amour is no different. It’s not Funny Games or Night of the Wolf. It doesn’t have their joyous sadism. But it proves that Haneke belongs in the pantheon of great directors.

1) Moonrise Kingdom

As someone who’s not really a Wes Anderson fan (I still don’t get the appeal of The Royal Tannenbaums), I am a bit surprised that Moonrise Kingdom is number one on my list.

But it’s fantastic. The backgrounds are beautiful, the script is pithy and genuine, and the acting is superb. It at once weaves a capricious tale of young love and a deep dive into the theme of personal value and worth found in prescribed titles and position.

It is a satire like no other this year, and, overall, a fun film.

Question 1: Who you got? Hoffman or Lewis?

Bill Coffin: This is a close one, but Lewis, if only because he is in one of my all-time favorite movies (Last of the Mohicans) and Hoffman is not.

Tim Adkins: Day-Lewis. As much as I like what Seymour Hoffman did in Almost Famous, Pirate Radio and Charlie Wilson’s War (in particular), the fear speech from Gangs of New York is one of my all-time favorite moments in life. Gotta go with the dude who delivered it.

Jared Wade: Danny Day. Although I do think it’s worth noting that Lewis has the advantage of creative scarcity. As is the case with Jimi Hendrix and The Notorious B.I.G., artists who have a small, great body of work usually seem more impressive than those who, while having just as many masterpieces, also made a few duds. As the comedian Doug Stanhope says, “How do you know if Jimi Hendrix hadn’t had died he wouldn’t have wound up doing Super Bowl half-time duets with Elton John?” It is a little different in this context since Daniel Day has made a non-“I died”-related choice to not dilute his resume with mediocrity. But Hoffman will usually get punished here just because he has expressed a desire to do a few get-rich projects in between his endeavors to create high art.

Steve Barker: I got to go with PSH, mainly because of his role in Happiness. That character was the second time Hoffman showed up on my radar after Boogie Nights. He played a perverted loner so well I thought maybe that’s all his career would be. He proved me wrong when I saw him a few years later in Almost Famous, and Capote was the best performance of 2005.

Dustin Freeley: Lewis by a hair, and it came down to the tie breaker of “films I can watch only because of the performance.” All of Lewis’ films aren’t great (I abhor Gangs of New York), but there’s not a single one that I won’t sit and watch his scene until it’s over. Hoffman also has some duds, and, within those duds, there are films that I can’t watch just to watch him (Pirate Radio, Cold Mountain, and The Talented Mr. Ripley come to mind).

Question 2: Which role that one has played could the other never pull off? (Clearly Hoffman wouldn’t be the first person chosen in a Lincoln-look-alike contest, but he did play Art Howe — a man he doesn’t resemble outside of having two eyes.)

Bill Coffin: Pretty sure Hoffman couldn’t pull off Hawkeye. Likewise, I don’t think Day-Lewis could have done what Hoffman did in Magnolia. Hoffman’s scenes were my favorite in that flick, and he brought something special and unique to it. Having said all this, I don’t think Day-Lewis could do a better Capote, but I’d like to see him try.

Tim Adkins: Seymour Hoffman could never pull off Danny Flynn in The Boxer. He doesn’t have the right physicality for it. You’d believe him as a trainer, but not as a guy throwing punches. Day-Lewis would seem really strange playing Scotty J in Boogie Nights. He’d be more likely to come off as dangerously creepy than creepily sympathetic.

Jared Wade: I have a hard time seeing PSH running through a forest pretending to be a Native American. That said, there is also no way DDL could have pulled off Gust Avrakotos, who Hoffman made into one of my favorite 10 characters in film history. The quick wit and humor he brings to his part in Charlie Wilson’s War is just something that is largely vacant from Daniel Day Lewis’ filmography. Really, it’s hard to see Lewis playing most of my favorite Hoffman’s roles (The Savages, Charlie Wilson’s War, Along Came Polly, 25th Hour, Love Liza), since the sad-sack-drenched-in-levity persona he embodies at his best is almost unique to cinema.

Steve Barker: I’m sure we can all agree PSH wouldn’t do well running around the woods for two and a half hours. If I can bring up Happiness again, there’s very few actors, Lewis included, who can be that believable in such an off-putting role

Dustin Freeley: I can’t get a specific movie here, so I’ll give a character-type. While this isn’t his entire resume, Hoffman has a knack for playing slimy characters, slightly off-putting (Allen from Happiness, Dean Trumbell from Punch Drunk Love, Freddy Lounds from Red Dragon, Sandy Lyle from Along Came Polly, Andy from Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead, and Father Brendan Flynn from Doubt). However, he doesn’t veer into hyperbolic yelling and vulgarity; rather, there’s a reality in this deviance; more amazingly, there’s also a glimmer of humanity and sympathy (with the possible exception of Lounds; you almost root for his burning body to go faster as it speeds down a hill). I’m not sure Lewis can fill the bad guy role and generate sympathy. Bill the Butcher is detestable throughout, and Lewis’ turn as Daniel Plainview might be the best performance of the last forty years in the best film of the last forty years, but, when he’s “finished,” he doesn’t make the audience question where he went wrong and how his downfall could have been prevented. His downfall is foreshadowed in the first scene, and from there on out, we’re along for the ride. These roles are wonderful studies in power and isolation, respectively, but I don’t feel for either one like I do for Hoffman’s depiction of less-than-perfect characters.

Question 3: If not these two, who else could be considered the best contemporary actor in Hollywood? (Please, no nostalgic nods here about who Jack Nicholson, Al Pacino, Dustin Hoffman, and Robert DeNiro
were.)

Bill Coffin: I’d have to give it to one of these guys. Nobody else seems to throw themselves into their work with quite so much intensity. There are those who are greater crowd favorites, but these guys are supreme examples of their professional discipline.

Tim Adkins: Good question. Do you go with Denzel? DiCaprio? Ed Norton? Kevin Spacey? Johnny Depp? Tom Hanks? Most of the guys on that list–save for Norton and Spacey–carry the burden of being a movie star and/or a cultural institution in addition to–or perhaps instead of–working as an actor. That’s something Seymour Hoffman and Day-Lewis don’t have to deal with. They get to be actors. And that’s it. I go with Denzel here because I think Flight has potential to be a crowning achievement for an epic career.

Jared Wade: It has to be one of these two, but, of the others … Christian Bale. I know he didn’t do much in his turns as Batman or John Connor, but his work earlier this millennium in American Psycho, The Prestige, Rescue Dawn and The New World stands above that of most other major-film contenders that come to mind. Throw in his other-worldly turn in The Fighter just two years ago and I think it’s fair to say we will be seeing less Bruce Wayne-cowling-and-growling in the next few years and more of what had him atop most young-actor lists a few years ago.

Steve Barker: If you had asked me this question in 1999 I would have predicted that Ed Norton would be the best actor of our time come 2012, but honestly I haven’t been all that impressed with his choices recently. Brad Pitt
rarely disappoints. If Johnny Depp would finally just break up with Tim Burton and stop with the damn pirate movies he’d be at the top of my list. Overall, no matter how many awful cop movies or bad comedies De Niro does, he will always be my favorite actor of all time. I recently saw Freelancers with De Niro and 50 Cent and it was exactly as I expected, terrible.

Dustin Freeley: I’d probably go with Sean Penn. A close second in Robert Downey Jr., but the whole superhero thing makes me question if he’ll ever come close to his performance in Chaplin, or if the Tony-Stark paychecks will keep him in the tent-pole film business. Penn on the other hand, like Hoffman (for the most part) and Lewis is pretty selective with his roles. There have been films that I haven’t liked (Mystic River and its incredible, predictable twist comes to mind), but even then, his performance is far and away the best part of the movie. (Seriously, Mystic River might be the movie with the weakest screenplay and the best cast: Sean Penn, Tim Robbins, Marcia Gay Harden, Laura Linney. All of them are amazing in this film.) If we need to go a little younger than Penn, I would say Joaquin Phoenix. There are some pot holes along his thespian highway (We Own the Night), but all in all, he completely assumes a role. His turns in Gladiator and Walk the Line are solid, and his performance in Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master is superb.

By all guesses, Paul Thomas Anderson’s upcoming The Master is supposed to be about L. Ron Hubbard. All Tom Cruise/cloning/volcano jokes aside, it might be one of the better docudrama/biopics of the last few years — if only because Anderson is directing and Philip Seymour Hoffman is starring. The closest competition this year will most likely be Daniel Day Lewis in his turn as Honest Abe in Steven Spielberg’s newest film, Lincoln. And, we also have Russell Crowe coming in as Noah in 2014.

So here we wonder aloud about the biopics that have been made and those that should.

Which biopic / docudrama most accurately captures the essence of its subject?

Dustin Freeley: For me, the inherent problem of the biopic is that writers and directors try to squeeze an entire life (the rise, the fall, and everything in between) into a space of about two hours. This is impossible and often makes for sloppy storytelling, underdeveloped narrative, and a reliance on the viewers’ passion for history to rivet them to the screen. The better biopic/docudrama films select a moment of its subject’s life and extrapolate on that, suggesting that this defining moment contains aspect of personality (admirable and flawed) that persist throughout the rest of their lives as well. That said, I think The Aviator does this quite nicely. There’s a lot that can be said about Howard Hughes, and while Scorsese’s film does touch on its subject’s potential schizophrenia and severe OCD, the bulk of the film is about his obsession with perfection. The movie spans a couple of years and flashes back, on occasion, to brief glimpses of Hughes’ childhood, but each moment with the Senator, the President of Pan Am, or on set of a Hollywood movie emphasized Hughes’ personality. We didn’t need to see his childhood more than we did, and we didn’t need to watch his eventual death and the mythology that surrounds it. And, we don’t.

Morgan O’Rourke: I feel like movies like Lawrence of Arabia or Goodfellas are obvious choices here, but I’m going with Ed Wood, Tim Burton and Johnny Depp’s homage to the worst director of all time. A cross-dressing, B-movie filmmaker already sounds like a Burton creation and Johnny Depp plays him with the perfect sense of childlike optimism that you would imagine someone would need to keep doing something he is so obviously terrible at. But what really pushes the movie over the top for me is Martin Landau’s Academy Award-winning portrayal of Bela Lugosi. The real-life Lugosi was best known for starring as Dracula in the seminal 1931 movie and was typecast as a movie monster for the rest of his career. By the time he met Wood late in his life he was living in obscurity and Landau basically steals the show with his characterization of a depressed, morphine-addicted, but still prideful, former star grateful for one last turn in the spotlight.

Tim Adkins: To me, Malcolm X is the gold standard of biopics. It’s not a perfect film, as the editorial perspective is a little vague in places where maybe it could have revealed a big insight (like who was really responsible for his assassination). But it does rank as a triple-crown achievement. Malcolm’s autobiography, from which the screenplay draws pretty heavily, is one of the best and most important pieces of 20th century non-fiction. The film exceeds the vision of the book. Spike Lee, however you feel about him, has always hungered to be thought of as an all-time great filmmaker. With apologies to Do the Right Thing, this is his crowning achievement. And then there’s Denzel Washington. Nevermind what the AMPAS said, he put his foot into everything a foot could possibly be put into. And then he found some new stuff to put his foot into ‘cause he wasn’t all the way done with the putting of the foot.

Having said all of that, though, the question is about essence. And, while I know this probably qualifies more as a standard documentary, no film will ever do more to fully and faithfully capture the essence of its subject than Tupac: Resurrection. Tupac was always the most perfect actor to tell his story. Even when he was struggling to understand it himself. What that team did in excavating the archives of Tupac interviews and footage was brilliant. Gives me chills every time I watch it.

Jared Wade: The Insider. While I love grand films about prominent historical figures (like Patton) regardless of their accuracy (like Braveheart), I feel like the best biopics are often those about people I would have never otherwise known exist. The story of Jeffrey Wigand, a tobacco industry whistleblower, is one that few people would have ever watched a documentary about. The real-life tale is one that few would even sit through the first commercial break of 60 Minutes for. But Michael Mann took his story and made into a compelling film that is as well made as the subject is relevant to understanding the corruption of corporate America. Mann made it not into just a biography of a man, but a tale to help understand the world in which we live.

Steve Barker: I thought Jim Carrey in Man on the Moon was spot on. He became Andy Kaufman and the movie felt like a Kaufman greatest hits collection. I heard that when Carrey made his audition tape he played it for Nick Cage saying it was an old Kaufman reel and Cage had no idea it was actually Carrey. When Carrey revealed the truth Cage withdrew from auditioning for the role. Although, I highly doubt Ghost Rider had much of a shot. As an overall performance and movie I think Jamie Foxx in Ray is the best. Not only did he become Ray Charles, but also he hit the dramatic scenes as well as the singing and the look.

Which film most abjectly misses the mark?

Dustin Freeley: I know it won the Academy Award for Best Picture, but I’m going with A Beautiful Mind, primarily because it is loosely based on the subject who it claims to be honoring, and it elides the most fascinating part of his life. John Nash, the 1994 Nobel Economics laureate was a schizophrenic, but he did not think he was working for the government, something that the film would have you believe. Moreover, the film tries three times to toy with the audience, making them wonder if Nash really is working for the government. This is merely a ploy to kill forty-five minutes, create drama, and make Nash a more interesting character. Furthermore, the most fascinating thing about the real-life John Nash is that he refused medication to treat his schizophrenia because it impeded his work. Thus, he learned to deal with an often-debilitating disorder and work at and ultra-high level in an uber-competitive field. Unfortunately, this aspect of his life is neatly wrapped up in a five-minute montage before he accepts the Nobel Prize and gives a speech as his poorly-made-up wife claps proudly in the audience. (As a note, recipients don’t give speeches – yet another stab at emotional appeal on the part of Ron Howard.)

Morgan O’Rourke: When Oliver Stone’s movie The Doors came out, I thought Jim Morrison was the coolest guy ever. But that’s because I was in high school. As the years have gone by I have discovered the immutable law that the further you get from your teenage years, the less likely you are to buy into the legend of the ol’ Lizard King. Sure I still like The Doors’ music now and then, but for Stone to turn a junkie rockstar who wrote some truly godawful poetry into a mystical rebel shaman is just silly fanboy pandering. Of course, it’s not like Stone had much of a dramatic character arc to work with. Jim Morrison never saved the world or anything — he just sang some songs and overdosed in a bathtub at 27. The end. That said, the movie is still pretty entertaining, though, in a train wreck sort of way. And Val Kilmer does make a great Morrison.

Tim Adkins: Not sure if it counts, but I thought Invictus really missed the mark. Morgan Freeman as Mandela was cool as hell, but the rest of it felt too much like an afterschool special meant to alternately scold and uplift. The truth of that story is way more fascinating than what the filmmakers gave us. If we’re talking about more straight-ahead biopics, I go with The Greatest. It was actually a rare autobiopic where Muhammad Ali played himself circa 1977. It was pretty bad. Felt like a man trying to make himself into a myth. Or someone using the man to articulate an ill-formed myth. And it lacked the guts and intelligence of who Ali has always been. That’s where it really failed.

Jared Wade: Alexander. You couldn’t possibly do less while analyzing the life of man who ruled so much. Alexander the Great is rumored to have never lost a battle and once ruled nearly half of the known world. Yet Oliver Stone spent three hours highlighting Al’s life through the lens of an Oedipus complex in which he only exerts his never-ending world conquest to spite his one-eyed father while wishing to sleep with everyone from his mom (Angelina Jolie) to (perhaps) his military compatriot (Jared Leto) to a seemingly feral ancient-Afganistan-residing princess (Rosario Dawson). What is left uncovered is everything conceivably interesting about arguably the greatest military commander in human history.

Steve Barker: I was pretty disappointed with Notorious. Jamal Woolard did a fine job as Biggie, but the story didn’t seem developed, and some of the side characters just didn’t work. I thought Anthony Mackie’s portrayal of Tupac was a little over the top. It’s like he watched one clip of Tupac mouthing off to a TV camera and took that as his sole research for the role. Mainly my issue was with the writing. There’s a scene with Biggie and Lil Kim right after they’ve had sex and Kim starts rapping while getting dressed. Biggie hears this and tells her to rap more and, bam, she has a record contract. I’m sure the producers didn’t want to make a four-hour movie, but everything moved way too quickly. Hopefully someone will put out a documentary on Biggie’s life to get the real story out there.

Who should a biopic be made about?

Dustin Freeley: I’d like to see one made on Mark Twain, but I fear that the writer and director would fall prey to the inherent problem I noted in response to question one. The man gave us two canonical classics and cleverly satirized commerce, capitalism, consumerism, racism, and humanity through the mouths of adolescents. Someone else who would make an interesting subject for a biopic would be Hitler. The endemic problem here is probably best exemplified by the deep, tooth-sucking breath that you just took. Hitler’s ideology is clearly evil, though his life as a soldier in Germany during World War I is fascinating, as are the post-war repercussions levied on Germany and their ultimate impact on Hitler’s ideology and its bridge to the next War to End All Wars. There are additional problems here as well. First and foremost, the director would need to stay away from the events of World War II, the Holocaust in particular, lest his or her intent is to merely create a hate-driven film. This creates an additional problem: Hitler, no matter how one tries, will never be seen as a likeable – or even less-than-detestable – character, unless the biopic becomes something akin to the fictional Springtime for Hitler.

Morgan O’Rourke: I have to go with Teddy Roosevelt. The more I read about the guy the more obvious it becomes that he was a goddamn superhero. The script would write itself. I mean this is a man who got shot in the chest before giving a campaign speech and instead of going to the hospital, laughed it off and launched into a 90-minute address as scheduled. The problem is that I don’t think there is an actor alive who would be bad-ass enough to play him. Maybe Daniel Day-Lewis can take a crack at it after Lincoln and then work his way through the rest of Mount Rushmore. Like we all wouldn’t pay to see that.

Tim Adkins: Personally, I would love to see really good biopics done on Julius Erving and Roberto Clemente, but athletes are nearly impossible to make good films about. I’d also like to see a portrayal of the early and middle years of Charles Bukowski’s life — stopping in 1980 before he became a full-fledged iconoclast. I’ve always been fascinated by the story of Samuel Slater, the “father of the industrial revolution.” Legend has it that he snuck into a British factory in the 1780s, memorized their entire operations and then stole/imported the industrial revolution to the United States. That could be a very rich film. But at gunpoint, if I have to choose only one person: Betty Davis — the singer, not the actress. Betty Mabry Davis was Miles Davis’ second wife. And she connected him with Sly Stone and Jimi Hendrix. You can make a really good case that she was responsible for Bitches’ Brew and inspired all sorts of musical fusions of the late 20th century. Also, she made some hella funky records of her own. She was a bad-ass woman and not nearly enough people know her story.

Jared Wade: Someone I’ve never heard of. If someone was truly historically prominent, I would usually rather just learn the facts of their life instead of seeing some dramatized version. FDR did what he did and much of the outcome was great for post-Depression America. It could be incredibly poignant to see some director show how arguably America’s greatest president pulled this all off without being able to walk. And I do eagerly await Daniel Day Lewis’ representation of Abraham Lincoln. But I would generally rather just watch the documentary take on such important people from Ken Burns, or someone else with a similarly grandiose vision to recount history in a easily digestible two-hour serving size. When it comes to a great movie based off the life of an actual person who actually lived, I generally prefer the less-well-known: Oskar Schindler, T. E. Lawrence, John Reed, Henry Hill, Harvey Pekar, or Paul Rusesabagina. With the benefit of using protagonists who lack pre-established identities, filmmakers are generally freer to create much more interesting narratives.

Steve Barker: I’ve given up hope that the Jimi Hendrix picture will ever happen. I feel like I’ve been hearing about it  for over ten years. The last thing I heard was the movie couldn’t clear any of Hendrix’s songs. So, what’s the point? I think the life of punk rock artist Billy Childish would make a great film. He’s not that well known in the U.S., but he’s a great writer, painter and musician who had a terribly abusive childhood and struggled with alcohol, all the while producing tons and tons of great art. He’s still alive, so maybe a biopic would be a little premature. An Eazy-E biopic would be great, but would have to be done right. The script could be based off of Jerry Heller’s book Ruthless. The producer would probably have to go with an unknown to play Eazy. I can’t think of anyone that short and badass in Hollywood. (Editor’s Note: The kid who played Kenard in The Wire would be perfect in about 12 years.)

1. Why is it seemingly so difficult to make a successful trilogy?

Dustin Freeley: For a few trilogies, the main factor is the switch of a director or writer. Such was the fate of the X-Men series. The first two were solid, but then Bret Ratner took the reins of the third and drove it into a grove of trees inhabited by giant, blue furry radio psychiatrists from Seattle. The same fate awaited Superman. Three quarters of the first two were directed by Richard Donner, but there’s a clear moment when Richard Lester took over: the ice cream scoop blowing off from the cone. From here on out, it was Lester’s ship, and he veered into a giant berg in number three. Others are doomed because the third installment is plain unnecessary. A good example here is The Godfather III. The first and second are classics, and I’m not sure that I ever wanted to know whether or not the Corleones become 100% legit. I certainly didn’t need to see Michael die alone. We got that at the end of two, though the touch with the orange was nice.

Bill Coffin: The reason why any trilogy is hard to make is because the third act is all about resolution, which tends to stymie the things that tend to make for great storytelling. And that’s for trilogies that are originally set out to be trilogies for artistic reasons. In modern movie-making, the funding for movies makes it really hard for a story that deserves three installments on artistic grounds to get the same kind of backing financially. There’s a reason why they could keep cranking out Police Academy movies while they could never see fit to produce additional chapters to follow up the 99 million movies more worthy of development than Police Academy.

Steve Barker: I don’t think many movies start out with the intension to be trilogies, there are a few exceptions, Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, but what usually happens is after a movie is successful the studio wants to recreate that success. Unfortunately they usually just try to make the same movie, but in a different location or with a female lead instead of a male. I enjoyed Ocean’s Eleven, but felt the second two were basically just lesser rip-offs of the same movie.

Tim Adkins: I think it has to do with motivation. Most often, trilogies exist to maximize the profitability of a franchise. Sometimes this is done on purpose and sometimes it happens accidentally. In either case, everyone involved is trying to get paid and that tends to mean the quality of the film(s) will suffer. In those unusual cases when you have a gifted storyteller (or team of storytellers) embarking on a quest to deliver a three-part arc, the results vary from good to great. Unfortunately, the former is way more common than the latter.

Jared Wade: Most trilogies were never intended to be trilogies. They were single stories that proved commercially (or perhaps critically) viable enough to make the producers and directors decide to go back to the well. This is especially the case in today’s risk-averse Hollywood climate, but it has always existed. And it’s hard enough to pull off a single story that the film-maker often spent years forming a vision for, let alone one that goes from conception to screen in less than two years.

Jeff Garcia: I would think it is due to setting the bar high. Take Star Wars Episode 4 and 5 for example. Those two made a great progression heading into Episode 6. Empire Strikes Back was the pinnacle of Lucas’ first Star Wars trilogy, so much so that it had fans’ expectations high heading into Return of the Jedi. Then, Ewoks happened. Same could go for The Matrix trilogy, which is good, but the final installment didn’t live up to its predecessors. Trying to top the previous two films in a trilogy is tough to do. Trying to meet expectations tends to lead to overlooking what made the previous two films successful — unless it is the Lord of the Rings or the Toy Story trilogy where each one was just as good, even standing on their own.

2. What is the most well-rounded trilogy? Remember, The Godfather III featured a monotone Sofia Coppola, and Empire is the meat in a whiny farmboy/fuzzy Ewok sandwich.

Dustin Freeley: My aversion to Sofia Coppola, actress, prevents me from picking The Godfather, so I might have to say the X-Men trilogy if X3 is omitted and replaced by First Class. This film was more than just a silly origin story, and, despite the cheesy ’80s-style montage, the narrative was quite solid and well-acted. Plus, to build off of my argument in question number 1, Bryan Singer had a hand in the screen play, as he did in the first two. If this franchise stands at a fivesome (X1, X2,X3, Wolverine and First Class), then I guess I’ll have to go with the Man With No Name trilogy: A Fistful of Dollars, For a Few Dollars More, and The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

Bill Coffin: Most of my choices have been disqualified because they have been turned into tetrologies or more. And though my gut tells me the Toy Story trilogy should surely take this question in a walk, I haven’t actually seen Toy Story 3 yet, so I can’t comment. Having said all that, I’m going to dig deep and say…the Mad Max trilogy. Mad Max sets up a world without hope that robs its most dangerous man of the only thing that keeps him human. The Road Warrior shows what it takes for a nominal human being to decide if he wants to rejoin the remains of a ruined world or become the avatar of its own barbarity. Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome shows that that the long, hard road back to civilization might not always be worth the trip, and that true civilization rests not in men’s buildings, but in their hearts. Plus, the trilogy featured some of the best stunt work ever, proved how a great indie franchise from abroad could go toe to toe with Hollywood studios, launched the post-apocalypse film genre and brought us the phrase, “The Ayatollah of Rock and Rollah!”

Steve Barker: This is a tough one because there are a few that come close. Terminator and Terminator 2: Judgment Day are amazing movies and the first and third Die Hards are great. It’s a shame that both have one huge failure in the trilogy to disqualify them, or that an unnecessary fourth installment was created. As far as consistency in all three movies I have to say the original Star Wars. I know a lot of people have an issue with Jedi, but luckily I was nine when I first saw it so it will always hold a place in my heart. Mad Max is up there too. I should also mention, with the possibility of being banned from this column, I have never seen any of the Lord of the Rings movies. I’m not actively avoiding them, I’m sure I’ll see them one day, like if I get mono or break my leg, but I just don’t have much interest. I read The Hobbit in eighth grade and only pretended I liked it because everyone else did.

Tim Adkins: If we’re talking about adaptations, I’d go with Lord of the Rings as it was mostly well-executed and had arguably the greatest source material of all-time with which to make a triplet of films. If we’re talking about original screen work, I’d go with Toy Story. That trilogy was such a remarkable achievement in technology, business and storytelling that it’s difficult to measure other threesomes against it. I know I’m supposed to make that kind of comment about the original Star Wars trilogy, but those films (Episodes Four, Five and Six) seem increasingly dated and flawed as the years pass. If we are answering hypothetically to this one, I’d go with Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy. Even with the flaws in the first two films, the ambition and execution is so high to this point that I expect the final installment to seal the case for those films as the most well-rounded trilogy on record. Thus far, he’s got a brilliant origin story and an excellent middle act. Even if he comes up short with the denouement, the dude has contributed some pretty stellar work.

Jared Wade: I personally prefer Stars Wars, but Lord of the Rings is clearly better conceived throughout, mainly for the reasons stated above. There were countless compromises and alterations made to A New Hope, Empire and Jedi for reasons varying from budget concerns and actors being difficult to major plot re-writes and presumed audience reception. Simply, George Lucas had to alter his original vision to appease dozens of outside influences. In was an expensive endeavor that many were skeptical about. Peter Jackson faced relatively little of this. He was handed the GDP of a small country and told “complete your vision” from producers who knew it would be a commercial success (given the ready-made fan base) and actors who gave him little grief.

Jeff Garcia: As of now I would have to say Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy. The story lines, the progression of the story in each film, the acting, cliffhangers from film-to-film, and it gave what the fans want. There was an abundance of action, had good pace throughout the films, fantasy worlds, notable/memorable characters, and more that the set of films are breathtaking. Like I said before, each could stand as their own film and to me, that’s what stands out about this trilogy. A close second for me is the Toy Story trilogy. The story telling, voice acting, and each film’s animated look improved as the trilogy progressed.

3. What current tandem of films deserves a third installment?

Dustin Freeley: In hopes that Vernita Green’s daughter decides to avenge her mother’s death and seek out Beatrix Kiddo after training throughout her turbulent, motherless adolescence, I’m going to go with Kill Bill. Plus, it’ll be another Tarantino film, and we could all use a bit more blood spray and decapitation in our lives.

Bill Coffin: There are a couple of good ones out there – I’d love to see a third act to The Hustler/The Color of Money, but we really need an older, more haggard Tom Cruise for that. And while I would welcome a 28 Months Later to follow up 28 Days/Weeks Later, even a gorehound like me has to admit that zombies are simply played out. and somehow, I don’t think the public will accept my disavowal of every Alien movie after Aliens, so my choice would be…Hellboy & Hellboy II. Why? Hellboy is at once a kickass comic book hero that also deconstructs typical comic book storytelling, handled by Guillermo del Toro, a man who deserves as much room as he needs to develop further whatever projects he has already worked on.

Steve Barker: I have heard there is a third Ghostbusters in the works. I’m skeptical. I didn’t think part two was all that great, but since this one is being written by fans of the original and Bill Murray can’t do wrong these days, it’s probably the one I’m most looking forward to. I have been working on my own third installment of the Speed franchise. It takes place on a blimp that will explode over The Super Bowl if it goes under 25 miles an hour.

Tim Adkins: If I’m a director looking to take on a unique challenge, then I’m pitching Tom Cruise on a follow-up to Color of Money. The way that film built on The Hustler was super dope. There’s still a good deal of creative space to explore with those characters and that story. The only trouble is that Paul Newman isn’t still alive to contribute. That is quite a bummer.

Jared Wade: I’ll just go with Iron Man. He is the most entertaining recurring character in Hollywood right now and while the second flick was far from amazing, it was still a lot of fun for a summer blockbuster. I really don’t think I will ever tire of watching him blow stuff up, fly around like an F-22 and crack witty one liners.

Jeff Garcia: Though they do not have a “part two” yet but I would like to see the recent Planet of the Apes film get the trilogy treatment and the well done recent X-Men First Class could also be a trilogy. Those two films set a great foundation for a trilogy to develop.

Question 1: One trope that recurs rather often in movies — and sometimes justifies the perpetuation of a franchise — is the car chase. Overall, what is the mass appeal of the car chase?

Tim Adkins: I’ll borrow a line from the late great Fresh Prince of Bel Air: “Drive fast. Speed turns me on.” It’s just that simple.

Bill Coffin: Car chases are an extension of the American love affair with automobiles in general. And given how much cinema is either from Hollywood or bears its watermark, I think what you get with car chases is something that is guaranteed to resound with American audiences.

Steve Barker: Car chases don’t especially appeal to me, but I think the simplest answer to the mass appeal is they’re cool. People like seeing stuff they want to do, but never could. There’s also something really satisfying about seeing someone evade the cops.

Jared Wade: Serious question? Cause it’s awesome. And it’s something that everyone thinks could happen to them on any given day but never does. Every dude thinks he is great behind the wheel and respects these other world-class drivers.

Dustin Freeley: Car chases might be visually masturbatory, but the car itself is an identity. In a way, I think the car-chase film runs closely to our love of superhero films as well in that both offer the opportunity to don another persona. While I probably won’t ever run across an alien orb looking to hand out telekinetic powers, an extraterrestrial handing out green rings, or a radioactive spider, there a chance – albeit slim – that I can steal a Mustang, get involved in a heist, and then outrun two assassins, all while maintaining complete composure, control, and travelling at 85 miles per hour. In a sense, surviving the high speed car chase makes the character invincible.

Question 2: Aside from the action aspect, what, if anything, does the car chase add to a film, thematically?

Tim Adkins: Apart from the adrenaline-boosting value, a cleverly used car chase can also add a layer of metaphor: the pursuit of a mysterious goal or fleeing from a hard-charging enemy. Off the top of my head, it seems as if the Bourne movies provide good examples of both applications.

Bill Coffin: Car chases strike me as something that writers and directors like to keep up their sleeves as a scene they can use to introduce peril to characters that isn’t a fight. Car chases are contests, and combat of a sort, but they are a good way to diversify the kind of action in a movie. Thematically, I think they inform the audience that in the story, not all conflicts can be resolved through direct confrontation; some must be fled.

Steve Barker: I’m not sure if it adds anything. Information isn’t usually revealed and the characters don’t usually change much from the time it starts until the chase is over. They’re entertaining and they sell tickets. Sometimes they’re the best part of an otherwise poorly written movie. I don’t remember a thing about Ronin except it had cool car chases.

Jared Wade: Rarely anything. Just cool. Occasionally it can elevate the plot but it usually just makes it seem more improbable.

Dustin Freeley: Much of the time, the car chase is visual filler to elicit oohs and ahhhs. However, I think the car chase also introduces conflict and can define characters. The chase itself is a competition. Good versus evil. Hunter versus hunted. Therefore, while filled with explosions, etc., the car chase can also define our characters as cool, frantic, powerful, weak, or psychotic.

Question 3: Best car chase?

Tim Adkins: With apologies to The French Connection and the entire Fast & Furious franchise, my pick is The Blues Brothers. There’s Jake and Elwood, of course. The Chicago PD. Illinois State Troopers. Nazis. A random honky tonk band. A Pinto falling out of the sky. Also, they wrecked 100+ cars during filming, which was (and may still be) a world record. If you measure a great car chase by its volume of destruction, that’s pretty tough to beat. Almost forgot … the whole thing is set off by an all-timer of a movie quote: “It’s 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it’s dark and we’re wearing sunglasses.”

Bill Coffin:  Best car chase is the one from Ronin where Robert DeNiro and Jean Reno tear through Paris in hot pursuit of the bad guys and that silver case everyone is after. This one had it all: going against traffic, gunplay, handbrake turns, tight roadways, relatively normal cars, and not a drop of CGI. An instant classic.

Steve Barker: I rarely watch movies with car chases. I haven’t seen any of the Hella Fastest and Super Furiouser movies. However, I really like the one in Pineapple Express. It has the rare combination of excitement and humor.

Jared Wade: Quality-wise, it’s probably still Ronin. (Although I haven’t seen Drive or 5 Fast 5 Furious yet.) But I’m going to go with The Rock as my favorite. Sean Connery steals a Hummer and Nic Cage commandeers a yellow Lamborghini Murcielago. They race through the streets of San Francisco narrowly avoiding devastation, finally arriving at a park for a touching moment between Connery and his daughter that is furthered by Cage’s compassion. It’s arguably the finest moment in cinematic history.

Dustin Freeley: Bonnie and Clyde. This chase doesn’t have the explosions or the intense action sequences of other films like Matrix Reloaded, Ronin or Heat, but Arthur Penn shoots the car chase geniusly, exposing the divergent personalities of the Barrow gang: frantic, insouciant, stoic, excited, greedy. These moments are also juxtaposed with a media retelling and the reality of events, posing the Barrows as both Robin-Hood-like philanthropists and deranged criminals. There’s also a bit at the end where the officers in pursuit cross into Oklahoma only to slam on the brakes, citing a jurisdictional tether, which is a nice little comment on the severity of a crime being defined by territory and perpetuated by media.

Forty years ago, on March 14, The Godfather premiered in New York City. The two hour film began what would become a veritable epic about a world-weary don and his favored son, both of whom try to hold their families together in a turbulent world ripe with war, politics, power struggles, and resentment. Based on the novel by Mario Puzo and directed by Francis Ford Coppola, The Godfather is arguably one of the top five movies in cinema history. However, some films are lauded for their greatness at the time and deemed “classics,” but fall short of reaching a contemporary audience. After forty years, we take a look at if and why The Godfather is still relevant in the twenty-first century.

Question 1: After 40 years, The Godfather continuously appears toward the top of “best-of-all-time” lists — it currently ranks number 2 on AFI’s “100 Years 100 Movies List.” After so many years and so many mob-movie incarnations, does Coppola’s film deserve such lauding? 

Tim Adkins:  Yes. Never mind exactly what number it’s ranked, The Godfather should always stand as one of the finest achievements in the history of filmmaking. The production was, at times, a disaster. Despite that, one of the most gifted storytellers of the 20th century (Coppola) presided over outstanding performances from three of cinema’s finest actors (Brando, Pacino and Duvall) working from a screenplay that featured an almost uncountable number of classic plot points, subordinate characters and one-liners that remain as cultural icons. As if that weren’t enough, Gordon Willis essentially perfected the art of using darkness to illuminate a story–a feat that changed the way people thought about cinematography from that point forward. It’s impossible to imagine a conversation about the history of cinema and its greatest masterworks without including The Godfather.

Steve Barker: Yes. It sparked a whole genre of film. With the exception of Goodfellas nothing has been nearly as good. I think it should hold the number one spot. Citizen Kane and Casablanca are both great films, but their grasp on pop culture has dwindled over the years. More of today’s teenagers have seen The Godfather than Citizen Kane and Casablanca combined. I know a lot of viewings does not necessarily mean a movie is good, but The Godfather sells DVDs like The Beatles sell CDs. Citizen Kane sells DVDs like Beethoven sells CDs, and Beethoven never makes the “Best 100 Musicians of All Time” list.

Jared Wade:  Of course. Depending on how you feel about Casablanca, it’s either the greatest or second greatest film ever made. From the story and the script to the cast and the direction, it’s a flawless piece of art. The apex of cinema.

Jeff Garcia: Of course. This is a movie which stands the test of time. A lot of these themes still resonate with people today. The pursuit of power, money, and respect just show how the years may have passed, but Coppola’s ability to show the best and worst of people was ahead of its time.

Dustin Freeley: It does, but not because the movie itself remains amazing or is shrouded in a cloud of “classic” rhetoric like Citizen Kane and Casablanca. Don’t get me wrong; both have their place in classic cinema, but for reasons that differ from The Godfather. Kane is a cinematic masterpiece in regards to camera technique and depth of field – something that is less recognized today because of technological innovation. Honestly, I’ve never really been sold on Casablanca, but it has its moments. However, The Godfather deserves praise for the impact it has had on cinema in general – and the mob genre in particular. Without The Godfather, we may never have found a solid interest in The Sopranos. Tony and Vito share some physical similarities, and not by coincidence. Moreover, Scorsese’s classics owe their inspiration to films like The Godfather. And, what would the world be like without the mockery that is Mob Wives?

Question 2: Vito Corleone is the only character in cinema history to garner two Academy Awards for two separate actors. Who plays him better? 

Tim Adkins: Brando. By the slimmest of margins. If you ask me tomorrow, I may say the opposite.

Steve Barker: That’s like asking if I love my mom or my dad better. I’ll say De Niro today. If you ask me tomorrow I might say Brando.

Jared Wade: Brando. Robert De Niro does a wonderful job, but the rise of Vito is just not quite as compelling as the mob overlord incarnation that we see in Part I. The way we see Vito run the show and then fade away into retirement, a phase of life during which he is finally able to enjoy himself, is just a wonderful means to humanize the Godfather and just further cements the inhumanity of his son Michael.

Jeff Garcia: Marlon Brando. I am a purist and feel he set the tone for the character. Cool, calm, collected. From his line “I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse,” to how he gave the character an ominous presence, Brando just gave Vito life and the foundation for De Niro to work from.

Dustin Freeley: Before I watched Part I and II again last week, I would have said Brando, hands down, because he was the original and De Niro was playing a character whose persona was already defined, but, after, I changed my mind because the characters are more disparate than they appear. Both incarnations are truly Vito, but Brando is the world-weary don whereas De Niro is the aspiring entrepreneur who deals in the currency of favors. That said, I’ll still side with Brando because it is his character through which we ultimately admire, judge, and condemn Michael, a man battling his own ghosts in a changing world. However, De Niro’s performance might make Michael’s fall even more precipitous.

Question 3: In a film replete with classic scenes, which one is the most memorable and why? 

Tim Adkins: This is a damn near impossible question to think about. I go with the scene where the Don and young Michael are sitting in the garden discussing strategy for how to ferret out (and deal with) the person responsible for the attempted hit on the Don. They are father and son. They are also general and lieutenant. The way they discuss their family’s business is so coldly rational and lacking in any sense of morality that they reveal themselves as men who have made peace with their life’s choices and are focused only on conducting business. The Don, at the end of his working life, collaborates with his most favored child in a manner he never desired to, but had to know was inevitable. The professional path for young Michael is finally clear and he shows no regret for having abandoned any of his former ambitions. The exchange is bittersweet and quietly savage. And the scene is thick with the poetry that makes the Godfather films so devastatingly beautiful.

Steve Barker: Every time I piss into high grass I expect to hear a gun shot. “Leave the gun, take the cannoli.”

Jared Wade: The Barzini meeting. It is the moment, both literally and metaphorically, when Michael Corleone loses his innocence. He was a war hero who was supposed to walk the righteous path that his father was, in his mind, forced off of to support his family and defend his community. Vito never wanted Michael to fall down the same trap of immorality and crime that he did. But when Michael enters that bathroom and exits to murder two men in cold blood, his former life is forever over.

Jeff Garcia: I’m partial to the scene when Michael Corleone becomes the Godfather of his nephew as well as ascending to the position of Godfather over the rival families. It was the culmination of what the character wanted and now we are to see his rise to power and subsequent fall.

Dustin Freeley: The opening scene of The Godfather finds Vito in his office. In the dark, he listens to all pleas for assistance as a party rages outside, but there’s a sense of benevolence in his actions. Unable to “refuse any request on his daughter’s wedding day,” Vito abides tradition but wants to dance with Connie. The final scene mirrors this with ominousness. Tessio’s betrayal has been avenged and no penance will be handed out “for old time’s sake.” Carlo is getting fitted for a ligature as he’s driven down the road with his feet thrashing through the windshield, and Michael assumes the reigns as his father’s doppelgänger. There are no apologies; there is no sympathy; there is no remorse, and Michael closes the door on Kay, a culmination of personality that differentiates him and Vito.

Bonus question: Two years from now marks the 40th anniversary of the release of The Godfather II, so let’s get a jump on the inevitable question: Which one is better? 

Tim Adkins: Part II. As much as I appreciate the first Godfather, I’ve always favored the sequel. The first is really a simple tale of a family in transition that happens to be a notable criminal enterprise. The second is much, much more ambitious. Juxtaposing the rise of that family/criminal enterprise with the struggle it faced in keeping itself together while scaling up and legitimizing itself is a daunting task. To follow the first film in that way and to hold the level of brilliance is improbable and even a little bit asinine. But that’s exactly what Coppola and company did with Part II.

Steve Barker: For me it’s always whichever one I’ve seen most recently. Today my answer is part two.

Jared Wade: Part I. They’re both great and should really just be considered one six-hour story, but if I have to choose, I have to choose the first one. While Michael Corleone’s foray into the casino business in Part II is fascinating in its own right — and culminates his downfall — it can’t quite equal the old school New York mob tale depicted in Part I.

Dustin Freeley: Both are amazing, but I’ve got to give the edge to Part II. The first film is a fine mob tale with allusions to family and friendships. Part II takes this look at family and friendship and contemporizes it through the lens of revolution and capitalism. The Anna Karenina-style X-narrative is classic in regards to Michael and Vito, but Michael’s mirroring of the ousted Batista (and ultimately Don Ciccio) and Vito’s mirroring of the rebels is a sardonic look at success and revolution. Moreover, the family that Vito worked so hard to support and keep together becomes disjointed because of internal greed. Sure, we could point the finger at Michael here, but Fredo acted first because he was jaded, resentful, and “passed over.” The genius of Part II is Michael’s vilification by the same M.O employed by his father as well as the global indictments limned through the narrative.

Question 1: What’s the state of the American horror film? 

Steve Barker: There are two popular formulas in horror right now: the super gory torture movies (Saw, Hostel) and the documentary style where things pop out at unexpected moments and scare the shit out of the audience (Paranormal Activity, Apollo 18). Neither of these forums is all that original. The documentary style horror was a great format for Blair Witch, and the first Paranormal Activity was decent, but it’s been beaten to death with so many sequels and rip-offs.

I’ve never enjoyed gory torture horror. Half-naked chicks covered in blood just aren’t my cup of tea. I can’t remember the last time I had any interest in a new horror movie. It’s possible I would have been interested in the latest Scream had I not already been burned on terrible sequels before.

Jared Wade: Pretty weak overall. It seems as though the last decade of horror flicks has been dominated by pushing the envelope of good taste. It’s as if, in the post-Tipper Gore/C. Delores Tucker era of finger-wagging censorship, most everyone making these films got completely caught up in the idea that “Hey, we can not only actually release movies this gory but make money off them.” This happened in music, with the likes of the Insane Clown Posse and Slipknot, and even TV to a degree, with premium cable shows becoming overly sexed up and crass, but it was a shorter blip that those mediums “grew out of” pretty quickly after realizing a novelty wasn’t a replacement for substance. Meanwhile, the “Hostelization” of the horror genre continues as if it remains stuck in the year 2000.

Tim Adkins: I’m really out of my depth here, but the word that comes to mind is derivative. If a horror film isn’t an actual remake, then it seems to borrow liberally/pay homage to all of the films that have come before it. 

Dustin Freeley: Unfortunately, the American horror film is rather binary, and, for the most part, neither is done well. First, we have the super gruesome and gory blood fests. In general, I’m not against these; in the past, Dario Argento, Wes Craven, Brian DePalma, and John Carpenter have made some solid films with barrels of dyed corn syrup. At the same time, a number of these new bloodfest movies are remakes, thus eliding any semblance of story and focusing solely on the various ways someone can be impaled. Then, we have the handheld cam, docu-style films like Paranormal Activity, etc. Granted, the first was pretty okay, but the jump-causing gimmicks in the rest are predictable and contrived. As film evolves, it must take into consideration that the viewer has also evolved. A character who wanders down a dark hallway to inspect a strange noise is going to be jumped upon or find him or herself momentarily relieved when discovering the noise comes from an apparent mouse scurrying along a dresser – only to turn into the stoic, psychotic face of a killer. In both the gore-filled and the documentary-style, the tropes have grown stale, and without a reinvigoration or some clever tales (one could check out some German or Korean horror flicks for suggestions), the American horror film will best be suited for laughs.

Billy Loomis: People could complain about the snuffy nature of the American horror film, but I prefer to see this as a commentary on our desensitized society. If we don’t want to get too metaphysical on the subject, we could also look at the American horror film as a pure escape from reality. It’s likely that the majority of us won’t impale someone with a sign post, eviscerate someone with a Garden Weasel, or drop random campers into a combine, so there seems to be little harm in watching the improbable play out on screen. Whereas some people love sitting through hours of fantasy in make believe lands, others dig the momentary fear of improbable circumstances.

Question 2: What formula works best for a horror film? 

Steve Barker: As I stated in the first answer I’m not a huge fan of the gore-porn style and I’m pretty much over the documentary style. I prefer it when a bunch of good-looking teenagers get together and a monster picks them off one by one. As a kid I watched all the Friday the 13^th movies repeatedly with my friends. I enjoyed the revitalization of the style in the 90s with Scream and I Know What You Did Last Summer. Unfortunately they made the mistake of too many sequels and my interest quickly fizzled.

I heard a rumor a few years ago that Quenton Tarentino had written a script for a Friday the 13^th reboot, I haven’t heard anything since, but something like that would spark my interest in the genre again.  And if it was just a rumor, someone should ask Rob Zombie if he’s interested. The franchise would be in good hands with him in charge.

Jared Wade: It’s not so much dependent on a formula as it is two ingredients: suspense and psychological terror. From Psycho to Funny Games, it is those two factors, in addition to having a decent plot and a good thing to dread, that unnerve the viewer. 

Tim Adkins: When the conceit is simple–something that could plausibly occur to anyone–the sense of danger a viewer feels is deeply terrifying and hella thrilling. Supernatural stuff I can’t relate to too easily becomes farce.

Dustin Freeley: A successful horror films depends on a sociopathic killer, one with motive. A killer without an agenda is just an empty metaphor. In the original Friday the 13^th, Jason kills no one. He’s the victim of cruelty and indifference. Mrs. Voorhies is the killer (sorry for the spoiler, but it’s been thirty years), and her motive hinges on revenge and a desire to transform her son from forgotten throwaway to a notorious consequence of bullying. In the subsequent trail of dead camper-sequels, Jason rises from the grave, but we’re not sure why, so our interest in his agenda fades. If we look at it from a justice stand point, his first murder would avenge his death, no? Also, take the classic Hannibal Lecter for example. The eeriest parts of the movie are when is stoic charisma collides with his thirst for violence and dominance. This same conflict can be seen in The Exorcist, a movie that sends chills not because of the blood, vomit, and uber-eerie bodily contortions, but because of the evil manifested within an innocent girl. There is nothing creepier than watching a twelve year old stab herself with Jesus while blaspheming.

Billy Loomis: The formula is simple: make the audience squirm. People tend to underestimate the impact of visceral images. It’s not pleasant to watch someone get disemboweled, but that’s the point. It’s something unusual and unfamiliar. If not the visceral, the movie needs to go for the scare, whether it’s a hidden psycho jumping from a closet, or a creepy noise beckoning its inspector.

Question 3: What are your thoughts on Silent House? It’s handheld and it’s without a score, but it’s also shot in “real time.”

Steve Barker: This is going to fall into the style where things pop out at unexpected moments causing audience members to jump out of their chair. I think it will be one of the better versions of the formula. No score will add to the tension and the fact that it says, “Based on True Events” also heightens the scare factor. The trailer was enough to make me want to see it. It will be the first horror movie I’ve seen in years.

At the end of the movie when Elizabeth Olsen is victorious—at least I assume she will be the last one standing at the end of the movie—I hope she looks at the camera and says, “You got it, Dude.”

Jared Wade: Cautiously optimistic. I actually haven’t seen Mary Kate, Jr. act in anything yet but have heard rave reviews. And while this movie does have a gimmick, it is one I can get behind. Long, single-take camera shots are something I generally enjoy (particularly the first scene in The Player and the shelled city orphanage scene in City of Men), so I’m hoping this one can make good use of those and not let the “real time” concept get in the way of good film-making.

Tim Adkins: When I first saw the trailer for Silent House, I had the sense that it could read like a snuff film. Maybe it won’t. But the idea that a film would have no score, I think, could make the film much creepier than a film with an spine-tingling soundtrack.

Dustin Freeley: I’m torn on Silent House. On the one hand, I really dig Elizabeth Olsen. On the other, I’ve grown tired of the handheld-camera conceit. It’s not found footage, but it’s “based on true events,” which is often a bigger harbinger of the awful than the former. At the same time, this film has a number of continuous shots and is, supposedly, shot in real time, which is pretty unique to the last two decades of horror film – though not so much if you ever sat through a season of 24.

Billy Loomis: Silent House takes a hand held gimmick and adds something  a bit extra: real time narrative. This is tricky to pull off, but certainly promises suspense, and, if Olsen can pull off realistic fear or terror, it’ll be even better.

If 2011 was the year of the sequel, 2012 is set to rival that moniker with additional superhero franchise installments. Most notably is the uber-anticipated Dark Knight Rises, followed at a distance by The Amazing Spiderman and The Avengers. I’m sure Hollywood is also destined to bombard us with a handful of underground super movies that follow us normal folk possessed by delusions of grandeur. Either way, viewers love superheroes.

Question 1: Are you a fan of the more mainstream superheroes or the underground players? 

Bill Coffin: Growing up amid the comic boom of the 1980s, seeing a film like Batman was a huge deal because the technical challenges to making a superhero movie that actually looked good remained substantial. In an era where you can capture even the most wild superhero action on screen, the visuals start to matter less, and once you’re over the novelty of seeing a guy like Hancock shoulder a freight train off the tracks, you do start to get more interested in why he would derail an entire train just to save some guy stuck on the tracks. So yeah, I’ve become more interested in the underground/non-heroes than the traditional heroes. I’ve had Captain America, Thor, Green Lantern and the last two X-Men movies in my possession for months and have yet to watch any of them.

Steve Barker: On screen I prefer the more underground characters. I have not enjoyed the majority of mainstream comic book movie adaptations and I was a big comic book reader as a kid. My favorite was Ghost Rider and the movie with Nic Cage was terrible. It was so bad I’m not even sure I could enjoy the comic books again if I tried. I was stunned when I saw a trailer for a sequel during the Super Bowl. One mainstream adaptation I loved that basically went unnoticed was Dolf Lundgren as the Punisher. That was one of the few times the violence in the comic was equal to the violence in the movie

Tim Adkins: I’ve been an Incredible Hulk fan since before I could speak English. Always dug the combination of righteous rage and brainy, tortured nomad. The two films that have been made thus far about the Hulk have been okay. But I think he’s an unusually challenging character to render for the big screen. Or the small screen. Which is to say that I lean toward the mainstream superheroes. Although I should state unequivocally that I believe the Scott Pilgrim flick to be the best accomplishment in translational storytelling of the last decade. What Edgar Wright and his team did in channeling the experience aesthetics of reading a comic book and using the Interwebs to tell a story via a motion picture was freakin’ brilliant.

Dustin Freeley: For the most part, I dig the more underground movies. I don’t dislike mainstream characters, but in recent years, most of these movies (Iron Man, Captain America, Thor) have spent time and money on an origin story then bridge to sequels of sequels of sequels and tandem-hero movies (i.e. The Avengers). Watching Tony Stark trapped in a cave and manufacture the original iron suit was cool; watching him John Nash Flushing Meadows Park to defeat a Russian Mickey Rourke was a snippet within a two-hour commercial meant to remind us that Thor and Captain America were heading to theaters. I’d take Kick Ass, Scott Pilgrim, or Darkman over any of these films.

Jared Wade: Mainstream for sure. Other than Unbreakable (if you want to call that “underground”), all my favorite superhero flicks have been the big ones: the X-Men franchise, Watchmen, the original Superman franchise, Batman Returns, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Iron Man I & II. The smaller takes on the genre have been cute and all but I want massive explosions and space-age special effects. That takes a major,
Hollywood-infused budget.

Question 2: The Dark Knight Rises is clearly the most anticipated hero film of 2012. Can it possibly live up to the hype?  

Bill Coffin: Don’t know, don’t care. Christopher Nolan has earned my trust as a filmmaker, so I’ll certainly see it. It’ll be one of the first comic movies I’ve ever seen that retells a story from the print issues that I never actually read, so at least I won’t have that annoying nerd impulse to constantly cross-check what I’m seeing against what I’m remembering. That almost ruined Watchmen for me.

Steve Barker: It will not have a better performance than Heath Ledger as The Joker. It will still make a zillion dollars.

Tim Adkins: The kind of hype building around Dark Knight Rises really makes this a question of scale. What filmmakers do you trust to play at that level? Who has a track record of delivering a movie that will satisfy a) devoted, hypercritical cinephiles / fanboys b) the companies that need the franchise to generate ginormous revenues and c) casual moviegoers who just want to be part of a significant event? There’s at least one guy who can succeed in that space: Chris Nolan. As a “commercial artist”–with a dutiful emphasis on both words in that phrase–he’s almost without peer. So, short answer, yes.

Dustin Freeley: I dig Nolan and want to trust he will end this series well, and maybe it’ll end with a busted – but not deceased — Batman, which might be the best way to go in that it falls in line with sub-textual reminder that Bruce Wayne is human. At the same time, the wealth of mainstream actors rounding out a bloated cast of characters worries me. I know people love The Dark Knight, but aside from Ledger, there were a fair number of narrative flaws, a wasted Two Face, and a flat, nasally Batman. In the Val Kilmer and George Clooney incarnations, the extraneous villains and tertiary heroes were tasked with carrying the load to make up for the Bat-story, so the only thing I fear is this denouement following the same route. Can Hathaway’s Catwoman do anything that Pfeifer’s didn’t? Will a reportedly inaudible Bane resonate as a worthy adversary? And, why throw in Matthew Modine as the little known, political villain, Nixon? Nostradamus I am not, but this movie will certainly be the biggest of the summer and theaters will be continuously stocked with Batfans, but the third leg of a trilogy is often cursed. Even those we canonize veer into silliness. Ewoks, I’m looking in your general direction.

Jared Wade: Probably not. I’m frankly not a huge fan of the new Batman franchise. Both of the first two movies were pretty good, but outside of the historic awesomeness of the Joker in the second one, I haven’t particularly enjoyed any of the plot lines or characters.

Question 3: Spiderman is getting a reboot only a few years after Tobey Maguire grew out of his tights. Is this “Amazing” reboot necessary?

Bill Coffin: If there is a larger strategic purpose for rebooting the franchise other than to get away from admitting that Spider-Man 3 was ever made (which a Spider-Man 4 sequel would have done by dint of its name alone), then I haven’t seen it yet. Maybe it’s about getting somebody besides Tobey MacGuire in the role without having the awkwardness of admitting that your lead player is now a different guy. The only franchise to survive that transition is Police Academy, and look at the damage that has done to us as a culture. I’m just pissed that I’m going to have to watch Peter Parker’s origin story again. How many times do we need to see Uncle Ben get capped, anyway?

Steve Barker: Not necessary at all. I thought Tobey Maguire made a fine Peter Parker and the franchise should have a little time to rest. There should be at least a ten year gap between reboots. Remember all those awful Batman movies after Michal Keaton left? Yeah, me neither.

Tim Adkins: The problem with the Tobey Maguire version of Spiderman was that it wanted to be acceptable to children while playing to adults. And it ultimately failed. The first movie was an event. (Remember that $116 million opening weekend gross that exploded the threshold for box office success?) And that was enough. The second and third movies were mostly tasteless syrup. In a relatively short amount of time since the first Maguire film was released, two things have happened: 1) animation studios have locked the formula for making a kids movie that adults will enjoy; 2) superhero movies have been allowed to delve into the mature themes that the best comic books and graphic novels have always exploited. We may not need the Spiderman reboot, but reframing that character in a post-Dark Knight world–where adults will show up in the millions to see a thoughtful epic–is not a superfluous exercise. Maybe it’ll be cool.

Dustin Freeley: Necessary, like the Spiderman mythology needs to be avenged? No. Perhaps the only thing necessary is a better rendition of Venom. This is what really sank the third movie. The first film was visual masturbation; the second was carried by Alfred Molina; the third wasted the most popular character in Spiderman lore, and to imagine Topher Grace as the afflicted was the definition of poor casting. Likewise, Eric Foreman is no Eddie Brock. So, for this reason alone, I’ll bide my time through this origin story and assume that Parker needs to heed Uncle Ben’s oft-noted maxim, something about power, responsibility and rice.

Jared Wade: To me, Spiderman is the dumbest superhero. So no. No interest in seeing that little whiny, emo teenager reimagined yet again. Much more excited for the next Wolverine, even if it probably won’t be that good again.

As of this past weekend, Liam Neeson’s string of box office successes is still in tact as The Grey comes in on top with about twenty million dollars in ticket sales. This pales a bit in comparison to his recent early-year windfalls with Taken and Unknown, but it’s still a testamnent to how much people dig Liam Neeson, and why shouldn’t they? He covers historical characters, plays a solid badass, and, on occassion, the villain. It’s no wonder he’s been cast in the upcoming debacle Battleship, and just in case you’re wondering, yes, it’s a movie based on the board game.

Question 1: Going solely by the trailer, first thoughts on “The Grey”? 

Bill Coffin: Dig it. Yeah, I know healthy wolves generally don’t attack people, let alone act like they’re about to start some group hazing ritual normally reserved for those Spartan boys in 300. But, I don’t care. This movie looks like it’ll either be a straight-up badass man vs. nature contest (not exactly PC, but fine by me) or more of a parable on man vs. nature, but nature always gets its revenge story (also fine by me). I suspect it’ll be more of the second, since Liam’s character is a guy hired by an oil company to kill wolves pestering a remote station.

Steve Barker: Eh. Can’t say I’m too interested. I imagine there will be a lot of quiet scenes where a wolf will jump out and startle the audience. I do like the fact that the wolves don’t look like they’re CGI. 

Tim Adkins: I didn’t understand the trailer at first. Was it some bizarre mash-up of Call of the Wild and Alive? After seeing it a few times, I’m not dissuaded from that notion. But there’s Liam Neeson. And, he is versus something. So…sign me up.

Dustin Freeley: Strangely conflicted on this one. I dig the Man vs. nature trope, but figure it’s going to bubble into a transparent allegory. Normally I dig the whole romantic futility of man angle, but the irony in Ottway’s assertion that he’s “protecting man from the dangers they cannot see” seems  a bit force fed. At the same time, I like the makeshift, mini-liquor bottle claws, but, thanks to my Post-Traumatic Viewing Disorder inflicted by The Day After Tomorrow, I can’t see wolves without chuckling, or wishing they had victoriously eaten Jake Gyllenhaal.

Jared Wade: Is this a serious question? Amazing. Man vs. wolf is infinitely more appealing than The Wolfman. And the way he fashions Wolverine claws out of mini-liquor bottles is undoubtedly the best use of affixing glass to knuckles in a combat situation since Van Damme in Kickboxer.

Question 2: Neeson has run the gamut of historical characters, badasses, and villains, so what’s the best genre of Neeson? 

Bill Coffin: He plays the badass mentor a fair bit, a role that seems to be well-suited for him, and would probably define him as a character actor were he not so capable to carrying movies all on his own. Personally, I am enjoying his badass movies the most, but they come with a bit of sadness, too. These are all after his wife, Natasha Richardson, died after a fluky skiing accident. I wonder if these movies aren’t just him doing action, but dealing with the anger that is a part of grief.

Steve Barker: I must admit I haven’t seen a lot of Nesson’s movies. I’m embarrassed to say I’ve never seen Schinder’s List. It’s been on the bottom of my Netflix queue for years. I do think he was one of the only good things about Episode One. He makes a good Jedi. 

Tim Adkins: I think he’s best in historical roles. He brings a combination of weight and sincerity to those characters that bridges the gap between “based on a true story” and documentary. It’s always understood that Michael Collins, Schindler’s List, Kinsey, etc. employ a good deal of creative license portraying different historical moments, but you can kinda take Liam Neeson’s word for it that how he depicts it is how it really went down.

Dustin Freeley: Ever since I learned that Rob Roy McGregor was a notorious fence-sitter whose m.o. was to wait for one side to outnumber another before slipping in at the back of the winning rabble, I can’t see historical characters without asking, “Is he sure this is how it happened?” By default, I’m going badass. (As a note, my source of this information might have been senile, but he was friendly, Scottish, and gave me a travel-sized bottle of Famous Grouse, so I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt.)

Jared Wade: The dramatic Liam. As much as I love his “thinking man’s Steven Seagal” role in Taken, his renditions of Oskar Schindler and Michael Collins are the two best performances of his career. Those are indispensable films, largely on the strength of his work, in that they give us a personal depiction of what went down during two of the most important periods in modern Western civilization. To take the viewer beyond the textbook like that while also creating a great movie is arguably the apex of cinema’s mission in our culture.

Question 3: Doesn’t have to the “best,” but what Neeson movie is on your “watch it to the end list” if you’re flipping through stations? 

Bill Coffin: Lately, it would be Taken, but really just about anything Neeson has been in, I’ve quite enjoyed (with the exception of Clash of the Titans). Last night, I saw that Rob Roy is going to play on BBC America this weekend, and my first thought was, “Looks like I’m watching Liam kill some English folks.”

Steve Barker: Taken. I’ve never actually seen this movie from beginning to end, but I stop on it every time it’s on TV. The action is always entertaining, and it’s perfect to flip to during a time out break of an NBA game.

Tim Adkins: I watch Batman Begins at any time of day, night or holiday for one scene. Bruce Wayne has just set a fire at Ra’s Al Ghul’s mountaintop camp and beat up 50 ninjas in order to make a daring escape. Wayne’s mentor, Henri Ducard, has been knocked unconscious and is sliding down the mountain toward his death. Wayne leaps after him and snare’s Ducard’s hand just as the limp body has found the edge of the cliff. Wayne clings to the cliff with one hand and his friend with the other and somehow saves them both. Not long after I saw that scene for the first time, I started working out with a trainer. She asked me what my goals were. I thought it over and declared: “I want to be able to hang off a cliff and curl Liam Neeson.”

Dustin Freeley: Most often, it’s Batman Begins. Like many, I dig the Bat, and Wayne’s scenes with Ducard cum Ra’s contain some of the best training sequences as of late. At the same time, I’ll watch Darkman from whenever the remote the lands, in part because I haven’t seen it in forever, and it’s one of the more underrated superhero films.

Jared Wade: Definitely Taken. His quest to rescue his daughter and destroy the men who abducted her is the greatest leap forward for the feminist movement since women’s suffrage.

So, in yet another film that has been “inspired by a true story” (OED definition: adj. vaguely related to something that happened to someone at some time, somewhere, while pondering something else), Universal Studios is releasing Big Miracle on February 7^th. Starring Drew Barrymore and John Krasinski, Big Miracle relays the tale of three whales trapped by rapidly forming ice in the Arctic Circle and the political hurdles that everyone must jump to save them. While the film is most likely filled with hokum and contrived jokes to appeal to the youngins in the crowd, the odd derision of the Russians stands out the most. Admittedly, the events that inspired this movie took place in the eighties, but this film is a conglomerate of inspirational events and creative fiction, no? There’s probably no point ripping apart a February release that promotes global cooperation as opposed to promoting imperialism, but since the end of the Cold War (let’s say officially 1991, but you’re welcome to say 1989), there have been a wealth of films that still characterize the villains as Russian. For examples, see Salt, Miracle, Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows, Warrior, Limitless, Iron Man 2, We Own The Night, Eastern Promises, Little Odessa, Training Day, Rounders, Air Force One, Mighty Ducks 2, Snatch, Punisher, 25^th Hour, and Indiana Jones: Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Each of these films – and those were just a sample — was released post-1991. What’s equally strange is that we technically “won” the Cold War, no? So, it got us all thinking about why the Russians, Russkies, Reds, and Commies are still ripe targets to vilify on the silver screen.

Question 1: The Cold War’s been over for years, so what’s the fascination with killing, catching, and / or beating Russians?

Bill Coffin: The Russians were our kind of bad guy. Our conflict with them was against the backdrop of nuclear, mutually-assured destruction, which boils down the “us vs. them” equation to a point where our sense of who the good guys and bad guys are therein aren’t too far off from where Hollywood would want them to be. The Cold War Russkies were like the Nazis in WWII movies; a bad guy for whom you had permission to dehumanize entirely. You can’t really do that with anybody else, especially in today’s world – because for every al-Qaeda commander we kill, 20 dirt farmers who lived next door also died in the airstrike, and we all know it. We like beating up on Russkies even now because it is a simpler conflict from what has turned out to be a simpler time. And we Americans, we dig on simple.

Tim Adkins: My cousin, who is known for being kinda pitiless, is finishing a double major at USC in Political Science and Russian. He is on his way to Moscow this spring to study and work there. A couple years ago, I asked him: “Why Russian?” He said, “Because they’re a mean people and that just makes sense to me.” Clearly, he has his own reasons for being fascinated with them, but I think his logic fits here. Whatever it is that makes Russians seem cold, emotionless or simply mean, also makes them easy to cast as villains. And it doesn’t hurt that American kids have had a century’s worth of social studies classes instructing us that the Russians are our enemies. So the short answer is: sustained indoctrination.

Steve Barker: Russians make great villains. They’re rough and tough and there’s still a little bit of mystery surrounding Russia. Who knows what’s going on over there? Especially in the 70s and 80s, they were engineering super humans to take over the world for all we knew. Plus, a Russian accent makes everything sound intimidating.

Dustin Freeley: Russia is just a large, enigmatic country, wrapped in a riddle and submerged in a bottle of Smirnoff. They’ve got major metropolises juxtaposed with scary, pejoratized landscapes like Siberia replete with Gulag camps. And, kind of like contemporary German villains goose-stepping like Hitler’s Nazi party, the prototypical, broad-shouldered visage of Stalin still resonates. Plus, their language naturally sounds harsh, and their alphabet is visually confusing. There’s a familiarity there to any other Germanic language, but there’s something discomforting about it, as if B’s mated with T’s and their incestuous offspring had a fling with an N when it was turned around.

Jared Wade: Soviets are the second best movie villain after Nazis. When you’re making a shallow story, you want an evil-doer who is entirely unsympathetic and 100% bad. Nobody  — outside of perhaps zombies — can beat the Nazis, but Ruskies were “at war” with America even longer, so the flick doesn’t have to be set in the 1940s.

Question 2: Who’s the best Russian villain?

Bill Coffin: Ivan Drago from Rocky IV has to be included somewhere, and if Jared Wade hasn’t already beaten me to this one, then he should be ashamed of himself, for as many times as I’ve heard him utter Drago’s iconic line, “If he dies, he dies,” which, as we all know, has kind of become the single greatest Russkie villain line of the entire 1980s. Drago is the perfect Russkie bad guy because he physically towers over Rocky, and still needs to cheat (use steroids, get government support) to beat him. The guy summed up everything that drove us nuts about the Soviets both on the battlefield, and in the Olympics. The irony on that is especially rich since, even though the Soviet Union is a far vaster country than ours geographically, during the course of our rivalry, we always had them outnumbered in terms of population, and by a wide margin. Doubly ironic: Sly juiced to get that big. Not sure if Lundgren ever did. By the way, Xenia Onatopp from Goldeneye (Georgian, sure, but still Russkie in movie terms) deserves some kind of mention for that sexy/creepy machine-gun orgasm she gave herself. Even the other characters in the movie were like, “WTF, Xenia, get a room.”

Tim Adkins: Obvious answers here: Ivan Drago. “I must break you.” Shoutout to Rade Serbedzia, though. You may know him as Boris the Blade from Snatch. Or Gredenko from 24. Or…every other Russian-ish villain from any movie or TV show made after 1990.

Steve Barker: Ivan Drago hands down. Every time I’m involved with some friendly competition, I tell my opponent, “You vill lose.” But there is no better line than “I must break you.”

Dustin Freeley: I’m pretty sure that if Dolph Lundgren or I— D—-, whose fictional biography is nearly as lengthy as Lundgren’s, is referenced more than four times concurrently, he becomes quasi-relevant again or becomes an irritating wraith like that clingy Bloody Mary from Paranormal Activity 3, and that’s not something anyone needs, so I’m going with Teddy KGB from Rounders. His portrayal of a poker-playing Russian boss is comically offensive, but kind of cult-canonical; I can’t play a game of cards without someone “laying down a monster,” “hanging around,” or “splashing the pot,” all accompanied by poor Russian accents. Plus, there’s something eerily fascinating about his sexualized penchant for Oreos. They are delicious.

Jared Wade: Gary Oldman in Air Force One. This movie is near the top of my “If I see it on TV, I’m watching it until the end” power rankings. And while it can be silly at times, Harrison Ford and, more so, Oldman lead to some great scenes. “Get off my plane” is tough to beat.

Question 3: If the Russians are finally obliterated, what group should become the common villain in American cinema? 

Bill Coffin: I don’t think any group necessarily should become the next go-to villain population, but my guess is that the English will become that group. Really, they have been in the background as a default bad guy for a long time now. Although it’s worth noting that usually it’s not The British or The English, as they were in The Patriotheart. More commonly, it’s that single mastermind bad guy who is so sophisticated, he’s suspect, so sly he’s smug, and inevitably…he sports a British accent. As a nation, we have this deeply ground suspicion of our national father-figure, and it’s why for every James Bond, we have a dozen or more villains who either are either crappy American actors putting on crappy American accents, or really good British actors playing non-British roles (Ian McKellen’s Magneto, Anthony Hopkins’ Hannibal Lecter) but letting their British accent seep through and thereby lend a certain quality to their villainy that we Americans respond to strongly when we can’t figure out who else in the world we ought to be carpet bombing.

Tim Adkins: One thing that makes Russians so effective as American foils is that they’re pale-skinned, which reduces or eliminates a lot of xenophobic subtexts. They’re culturally neutral in precisely the right way. As such, I don’t think there’s any one group of people that can replace them. While machines and aliens have been easy enemies for similar, acultural reasons, the people who really make the best antagonists for Americans are other Americans. We’re just never gonna get over the Civil War. 

Steve Barker: Middle Easterners seem to have taken the Russian’s place in action movies, but until Middle Easterners learn how to play hockey, we should keep looking. I recently watched The Cold War on Ice about the 1972 8-game series between Canada and Russia and was close to tears by the end. And of course, Miracle is a great sports movie. I can’t see a great athletic rivalry involving the Middle East. It’s hard to imagine Emilio Estevez leading a gang of lovable misfits against an evil team of Middle Eastern hockey players. Luckily, American movie goers will never tire of the big scary, vodka drinking Russian whether there’s a war going on or not.

Dustin Freeley: Any exotic-looking group is bound to draw scrutiny, and magnify the whole “America is racist” thing. Sure, there are plenty of Middle-Eastern villains in television and cinema now, but the third act often reveals that many of them are funded by American government or American radicals, so why not just cut to the chase and start with Iowa.

Jared Wade: Should? Bankers. Will (and maybe have)? Dem damn Moooslims. Like the Nazis, terrorists as portrayed in crappy action movies, are pure evil. The more the hero kills, the more the audience will like the movie.