It was a sorta transitional year for me. I graduated High School in May (and yes I was excited that my "graduating class" would forever be the title of a Kubrick movie), but really it just felt like the end of any school year, because after "Summer Vacation" I began College. Though there was a noticeable perk: for most of my life the school year began at the end of August, which I'd always hated because it tainted the entire month, but the college year was to begin on Monday, September 10, and that extra week or so made the transition back into the grind somewhat easier. I say "somewhat" because despite now obtaining an education that I was paying for, I immediately found it to be just more of the same pencils and books and teachers' dirty looks that I'd dealt with for 12+ years; even by the second day I was already fatigued by the routine.
On the morning of Tuesday the 11th my first and only class of the day was at 9:30 am - Sociology, which sounded so collegiate and mature (this is the real facade of all higher education). It was a warm, beautiful, late Summer morning, and The In-Laws with Peter Falk and Alan Arkin had just started on one of the movie channels, and I was in no mood to leave the house to catch the city bus to Fitchburg to learn about Karl Marx or some shit. But I went, on the long walk to the bus stop, and then the long walk from the bus to the campus to find my classroom - on the second floor of a very old building named after some guy. I sat by the big open window overlooking the "quad" as it were, feeling very much like Oswald. 9:30 came and went and no Sociology professor showed up. After about 10 minutes one of the other students yelled out the window to someone they knew, asking "Do you have class today?" to which the person outside replied, "Naw, classes are canceled I think. A bomb went off at the World Trade Center or something." And so began my long trek of walking and public transportation back home. Still, I was delighted to have the rest of this nice day off as a result of some supposed incident that, in the moment, didn't seem to actually have any effect on anybody.
Like anyone else who was around at the time, I remember that day very well. And, such as the case with all other global events and news headlines, all my memories of any specific era are mostly tied to Pop Culture, and so whatever's going on with me, or the world, gets filtered through those flavors of the month. I remember the star studded TV specials and concert events, featuring Tom Petty singing "I Won't Back Down" and Billy Joel singing "New York State of Mind" for a crowd of energized firefighters. I remember the big weird discussion of whether or not the Towers should be digitally removed from all Film and Television. I remember songs like "Jump" by Van Halen and "I'm on Fire" by Bruce Springsteen being banned from the radio. I was getting my news from late night talk shows and Saturday Night Live - a trend that's carried over into modern times, as the actual News has yet to regain whatever even-tempered sanity they lost after September 11, 2001. In other words, American Culture changed -- probably in some ways that we'll never fully realize.
It's hard to remember that there was a whole year of other stuff surrounding that one day - much of it unpolluted by the attack and its aftermath. I seem to recall an all out onslaught of Destiny's Child that lasted for about a month, but that month was like Beatlemania. I also remember a lotta Jennifer Lopez (or "JLo" as we began calling her), a lotta Nelly, a lotta Shaggy, a lotta Missy, and that damn Dido song that Eminem made famous the year before. And then, there was the juggernaut that was "Lady Marmalade", which came at me twice as hard because every girl around me had the whole ass Moulin Rouge! soundtrack in their car, and because I didn't yet drive, I was singing Elton John via Obi-Wan Kenobi during every trip to Circuit City and Pizza Hut.
God, I still remember the hype leading up to the release of Moulin Rouge! - some early article was already praising it as one of the greatest films ever made. And I was prepared to believe that, and approached it with that anticipation. Incredible: the oppressive volume of cynicism that occupies and consumes my soul at my current age has taken the place of what was once just as much naivety. I recollect some other early preview criticisms granting similar praise to Lord of the Rings, and I certainly won't get into my stunned disappointments with that again.
I'd probably say I was at the peak of my movie lust around this time (or plateau anyway) and I still look back on this period (ca. 2000-2002) as the brief era of Cinema that just about soured me on Cinema (or I should say Contemporary Cinema). I've spent years trying to articulate it (to others but mostly to myself), but it's little projects like this that help me better understand the past, and also myself, and what had me hella heated over movies at the beginning of the 21st Century. And after some moderate research, I've come to the conclusion that... *checks notes* ...the movies sucked.
As circumstance would have it, I was buying tons of DVDs of older, better films (because, once again, this was 2001), while at the same time I was going to the movie theater more frequently than maybe any other time in my life, before or since, and I think maybe the contrast between stuff like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and K-PAX felt that much more defined. I mean, I'll have to assume it was, because that's just the thing: while running down the list of films released in '01, I saw many of them, maybe most of them, and I saw them in a theater setting. And I Hardly Remember Any Of Them. I mean I remember that I did see them, but in terms of their content (or in some cases even a single frame) they've entirely escaped me. I find this notable because my attention span (and my memory) is at its best when it comes to movies - especially when you mix in the big, bright, loud experience of the theater, so for me to extinguish all details from entire features (plural) only leads me to believe that the output was, for the most part, lackluster at best. I'd like to extend the benefit of the doubt and say maybe it was me and I was just in a weird headspace for those few years which made it impossible for me to retain the plot of Zoolander, but really that's just me being diplomatic, because after much consideration I found that I was only able to compile a measly Top 11 (get it?). "Measly" in length, yes, but strong in width; these are ten movies that I not only remember from 2001 but legitimately liked, guaranteeing no filler/all killer. So maybe the more optimistic approach would be to say that 2001 had a list of great movies. Maybe that was the point of this exercise: to get rid of this godawful feeling.
- Paul
1. The Royal Tenenbaums
I'd thought Bottle Rocket was cute, and Rushmore was even better. This movie took the established tone that we were getting used to and blew it wide open - almost to the point of self-deprecation (but still, for laughs). I'm always applauding Gene Hackman here, but really that's so easy and obvious; frankly everyone is about as good as they've ever been, but if anyone else came close to stealing the show, I'd say it was Owen Wilson. Add that to his screenwriting credit and I'd call this his overall greatest achievement by far.
2. The Pledge
After the 90s I think we all had Thriller fatigue, which is why this movie a.) went largely unnoticed, and b.) was and still is so energizing. It employs the same grim mood and tense set pieces as the standard Cat and Mouse Actioner, but it never cuts corners in favor of some big gun battle or goofy surprise villain reveal. Actually there is no surprise - it just lingers and stays with you.
3. Ghost World
When it came out, I too was graduating High School, much with the same snarky attitude that everyone was really stupid except for me and my friend. But also very much seeing myself in the Seymour character (which I suppose is the point of the character parallels). Basically I couldn't relate to 99% of the Teen Comedies that had come out in the decade leading up to this, so it was comforting to have some art that spoke to my specific identity.
4. The Man Who Wasn't There
It was just the next entry in an otherwise unblemished filmography, but that didn't prevent me from appreciating it any less. Like all my favorite artists, they once again attempted a new style and genre while still maintaining their unmistakable trademarks. Seriously their best looking movie, making it one of the best of all time.
5. Mulholland Drive
This hit me right at the right time -- but somehow that seems to be true for everyone; even the people who weren't into "this kinda thing" embraced it as the phantasmagoric odyssey that it is. It's not my favorite David Lynch movie (not even Top 5 actually) but I'd probably name it as his funniest, which probably has a lot to do with why it's so accessible (despite the weirdness).
6. Donnie Darko
Another movie that hit me at the right time - but that's only because I was already in a Tears For Fears phase. And another example of how a bit of comedy can disarm an audience just enough to slip in some of that mind-bending ambiguity. Not knowing anything about it, it was a surprise from end to end, which makes sense as there was no logical way to market this thing.
7. Heist
Initially I found this to be really hokey and predictable, with dialogue that sounded more like a David Mamet parody than actual David Mamet. But with repeat viewings via Home Video it started to become a Comfort Movie as I began to memorize the very snappy exchanges. Also, it became apparent over time that having a cast that's this competent is the only reason it works at all.
8. In the Bedroom
Only now do I stand back and realize how much passionate filmmaking there was this year; people with burning desires to tell these very specific stories. This movie crackles with both the excitement and the jitters of a first feature, and frankly could've been a lot more bland with some "experienced" filmmaker at the reigns.
9. Training Day
There's this whole subgenre of 'Likable Lead Actors as Menacing Villains' that isn't explored often enough, and this is such a beautiful and delicious example of it. (I don't count CGI Supervillains as part of this.) Let's not disregard Ethan Hawke peeking out from behind the eclipse of Denzel, and also Cliff Curtis giving us the scariest scene of the year.
10. Ocean's 11
Living, breathing, wisecracking proof that Cinema can be "fun" without being "really fucking stupid". Granted, I never found it as fun as it thinks it is, but it's certainly a joyous occasion. And after 5 quality pictures in only 4 years, Soderbergh almost singlehandedly gave me hope for the future of Film.
11. Monsters Inc.
At the time, my cynical teen temperament would've forced me to choose Shrek as the best animated feature of the year. Having seen them both again more recently the choice is clear: no amount of meta satire could compete with the ingenuity and purity of Pixar in its heyday. In fact, Pixar can't compete with Pixar in its heyday; this is easily their sweetest movie that doesn't ever resort to any kind of manipulation.
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