Y2K, throw your hands up at me

In the year 2000... Ketchup was green, Florida was red, and Pantone's color of the year was Cerulean Blue. Guess you had be there - and chances are, a lot of you were! One fact that's come into focus since I started publishing these commemorative observations is that the worth of any given year is highly subjective; war, disease, economics, reality TV - whatever shape the world was in was only as good or bad as the condition of my own personal bubble. For me, 2000 has a few blurry spots; I'd lost a considerable amount of weight due to an eating disorder, I began to engage in more social interactions amongst my peers as well as romantic relationships, I began my senior year of high school, I was earning my first taxable paychecks. But because I'm me, a lot of these developments feel worn and faded for the reason that they hang on the hooks of an era in Pop Culture that I found to be bland and uninspired. 

In hindsight it becomes apparent that I really began to lose touch with Television after Seinfeld ended in '98. I turned 17 in February of '00 and so I wasn't about to embrace the likes of Bob the Builder, Dora the Explorer, or SpongeBob SquarePants. But at the same time I had zero interest in CSI, The West Wing, or The Sopranos. And I don't know what age group was popping the sleeping pills that were Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? and Survivor but they certainly weren't capturing the attention span of an angry teenager with better stuff to do. So that presents the question: what exactly was I doing? 

I'd all but ignored or dismissed the music of the 1990s, so it either had something to do with my age or the way it saturated the zeitgeist but I began to notice new songs and artists in this year - both ironically and genuinely. Actually, from my point of view, the defining cultural sounds and imagery that best illustrate the start of the 21st Century would be the content of TRL. Britney, Christina, *NSYNC, and The Backstreet Boys made it seem as though Teen Pop was the only option. But there was also Destiny's Child and Alicia Keys. Linkin Park and Papa Roach. The White Stripes and Radiohead. Then all of it would become sanitized and repackaged into a compact disc of Now That's What I Call Music, leaving one Marshall Mathers to point and laugh at the whole parade. 

Despite the quality or actual longevity of these bands and artists, almost all of them remain relevant today, and it's because they fall into the net that is The New Millennium. Even one hit wonders from 25 years ago still swirl around the playlists marked "Today". So far this century has felt like one cohesive glob, but there are some abstract and indefinable qualities that make 2000 stand alone as a unique era unto itself; it was no longer the 90s but the tone of the decade that followed wouldn't fully emerge till September of 2001. So here we were, with our trucker hats and PlayStations, celebrating the union of Brad and Jen and praying for the safety of Elián González. A Big Mac cost $2.24. The computers didn't crash. Jennifer Lopez was always somewhere on TV. What more could we ask for? 

We've all sang the song and danced the dance of "The Films of 1999" - that sparkling gem of innovation and achievement. But even more memorable than the masterpieces that came out that year was the hope and optimism surrounding the future of Motion Pictures - that we were perhaps at the dawn of a new age where risk takers were blessed with the money and technology to realize this potential Renaissance. But we're not gathered here today to lament for the eleventy millionth time how that prophecy did not come to fruition, but I bring it up because by the end of 2000 it was glaringly apparent to me that not only did it not live up to the previous year's output, but that it was perhaps the weakest year for movies I'd witnessed since I started paying attention to such things. I mean it was partially unfair to hold it to the standards of '99 (the fact that I first saw Magnolia in January of '00 may've presented a greater contrast) but this was ridiculous. There weren't even any real standouts to me at the time, and I saw a ton. I remember really liking a handful of new releases but I couldn't shake the feeling that they would've been like window dressing in any year from the '90s. And now, 25 years later, as I stand back and scan the directory of Y2K Cinema, I find that I was mostly correct in my original assessment; I still managed to squeeze out a pretty eclectic Top 20, but in addressing the year 2000 as a whole, no, I was not entertained. 

- Paul

1. Unbreakable

I was not at all part of the Sixth Sense cult - I thought it was good, but not in a way that had me fully prepared for this. I think what stood out to me at the time (and still) was the directing; I was becoming more hyperaware by the minute at that age, and stuff like movement and composition and overall mise en scène were of utmost importance, and there is nary a shot in this entire movie that isn't remarkable or clever to some degree (minus those parting title cards...). 

2. Wonder Boys

Another pleasant surprise that was a bit different from what I was expecting. I remember being turned on by how small the scope of it is: a dialogue driven character study over the course of a few days was very much what I was into at the time. It was marketed as a Dramedy and I sorta digested it that way, but when I revisit it now I'm beginning to recognize it as one of my favorite straightforward Comedies. 

3. Shaft

I showed up for the novelty of Sam Jackson fulfilling this no-brainer casting decision, and what I got was a sharp and exciting triumph that continues to be one of the best Action Movies of this century. I was expecting a low-key Blaxploitation parody but it takes itself just seriously enough to be equal parts smart and fun. The big takeaway from its amazing ensemble cast was that Christian Bale was fast becoming a favorite actor. 

4. O Brother, Where Art Thou?

This was still when the Coens could do no wrong, and it was of my opinion that this movie continued that streak. The soundtrack deserved all the praise and prosperity it received, but as usual I was most impressed with the writing; their playful execution of regional and era-specific dialects will always be the first thing I think of when I think of them in their heyday. 

5. Best in Show

It's like "The White Album" of Mockumentaries; not only is it the best, but everyone's contribution is unique and at the top of their game, creating one cohesive collage of absurdity. It's so fitting that the main thread is a contest because you can't help but root for a favorite performance. 

6. American Psycho

Even people who read the book didn't know what to expect. I remember some initial disappointment that it wasn't a gorefest, but instead it quickly identified itself as the Black Comedy it was supposed to be -- and that humor landed gracefully into the canon of Pop Culture, due largely to the talents of its lead actor. 

7. Sexy Beast

British Gangster Films always seemed to flirt with surrealism, but this one just fucks. I can't pretend Ben Kingsley doesn't steal the show but that's mostly amplified by Ray Winstone's fear and fatigue. These two deserved their own BBC miniseries. 

8. Cast Away

A Hanks/Zemeckis reunion held a lotta weight, so personally there was gonna be some amount of letdown. And there still is; I've always felt underwhelmed by the final act, and excessive CGI makes the entire scenario a lot less threatening, but it's still easily one of the most engrossing movies of the year (and probably this century). 

9. Traffic

Storytelling by way of color scheme! Soderbergh certainly has a look, and he, along with cinematographer Peter Andrews (wink wink), went hard and reached the mountaintop with this one. For as heavy-handed as it is, it inspired decades of copycats who never seemed to do it as well as it was done here. 

10. Ginger Snaps

The "Teenage Werewolf" trend wasn't new, but this was an admirably fresh take on it - at least to me. And from my perspective this was one of the worst times for Horror, maybe ever, so a clever Indie Gem with rich performances and practical effects actually seems that much more miraculous in hindsight. 

11. Memento

There were some entries that felt clever and daring enough to feel like they came outta the 90s. Sometimes maybe a little too clever. Like, cutesy? I will say Chris Nolan on a shoestring budget is something we have very little of in this world and it's a challenge I'd like to see him create for himself again in the future. 

12. Snatch

I was embarrassed about liking it at the time, but I thought it was pretty funny and had a great soundtrack; the Huey Piano Smith closer is inspiring. It all felt very much like a mood of the moment; I never saw another Guy Ritchie movie after this one but along with Lock, Stock in '98 it felt like the appropriate curtain call for the Violent Gangster Comedy craze. 

13. The Beaver Trilogy

Technically made in 1979, and 1981, and again (yes, again) in 1984, the three shorts were complied into a trilogy and began the Festival Circuit in 2000, making this the most creative and ambitious passion project of the year. 

14. Amores Perros

Imaginative, provocative, and, of course, dark and depressing, Iñárritu gave us an unflinching debut with a unique voice and a sharp eye. I didn't know it at the time but he was the real hope for the new century. 

15. What Lies Beneath

And we also had seasoned veterans trying to stay ay the top of their game. Obviously Zemeckis fell in love with computer animation long before this but here's where he began to use it in frivolous ways (or the technology itself began to falter). Either way, at its core this is a wonderful, twisty, old-fashioned tale with remarkable performances driving it home. 

16. Cherry Falls

While Horror was still in the midst of "Ironic Slasher" mode, it was a joy to find something that wasn't just a music video for a soundtrack album. All the tropes are still present but what keeps this afloat is its truly wacky premise and collection of colorful character actors. Additionally (or probably especially) I'd present this as further proof of just how captivating and unique Brittany Murphy was. 

17. Requiem For a Dream

π, now in color! I remember reading about this in '99 as part of that grandiose promise that Film was only gonna get more inventive and exciting. And to be fair, every shot and every cut and every sound effect had my attention, but definitely to be filed away as a neat exercise. It remains in that folder to this day. 

18. Mission: Impossible II

I still can't shake that initial rush of how much more I liked it than the first one. It was at this point that I'd felt John Woo had become a parody of himself, and that other people were in on the joke as well, and that maybe this is just what these kindsa movies had become; it was the only big, loud Summer Blockbuster that year that stayed with me, and that's because it was noticeably silly. 

19. Scarlet Diva

Art imitating life imitating whatever the hell this is. Originally a kinda funny kinda sexy kinda weird faux documentary, and now through the lens of a quarter century worth of sobering reality, it apparently wasn't funny or sexy at all. The fact this this is a public diary entry gives it a gravitas that, admittedly, makes it more interesting. 

20. In the Mood For Love

In terms of tone, texture, and themes, one could call it a claustrophobic Barry Lyndon -- or at least I do. Were this to take place in the contemporary Western World it would have been a raunchy melodrama, but in its 1960s Hong Kong setting it's a paced tragedy, and that manages to make it more effective. 

STATIC SHOTS

Steven Soderbergh

Jump, Jive an' '98

"Every man is a creature of the age in which he lives and few are able to raise themselves above the ideas of the time."

- Voltaire

After composing more than a dozen of these tributes to years gone by, I've learned so much - not only about popular culture, but about myself. 

I'm kidding. For my entire life I've only ever thought about contemporary art and my relationship to that art; this series has been nothing more than a breezy (though ostentatious) recap that is constantly within my own arm's reach. But it has been useful (and more importantly fun) for me to organize and articulate and share a subjective point of view on these little parenthetical eras that hopefully left an open invitation to others to join in, to look back - discuss, critique. I've always tried to maintain a mostly factual vibe, but the more significant angle is the one that comes from me; you and I have both seen The Big Lebowski, but my 1998 was entirely different from your 1998, so the struggle has been to find a balance that would hopefully translate into "relatable nostalgia." 

If you're interested (or new), here's an interactive list of my time travels thus far:

1982 | 1983 | 1985 | 1986 | 1987 | 1988 | 1989 | 1990 | 1991 | 1992 | 1993 | 1994 | 1995 | 1996 | 1997 | 1999 | 2003

'98 was my freshman/sophomore year of High School. I was 15 going on 16 and if age and circumstance has ever been relevant to these reminiscences then that should hold some significance; good or bad that's a tumultuous time in any person's life. It was the most stressful and depressing year of my life up until that point, continuously expanding upon the previous year and the one before that, etc. There was no singular tragedy to point at, it was all just rooted in fear, loneliness, humiliation, and generalized teen angst brought on by an existence of equal parts bullying and aggressive indifference. 

Titanic was released at the tail end of '97, so really the mania that occurred was more of a 1998 event - and, Jesus Christ, was it an event. Like those media blitz montages in movies when someone or something becomes famous and you get shots of magazine covers and talk shows and fans on the street and parodies and a theme song with constant radio and video play - it was that kinda frenzied energy in the world for like 6 months. And I was bittersweet on it; I never got sick of it, and I loved the movie and absolutely understood the deep, widespread appeal and I was thrilled to be on the right side of it. At the same time I was overcome with a divine melancholy; the film is famously and legitimately moving, but the heaviness of the melodramatic romance actually managed to make me feel that much more alone. Sure, anyone wants someone to look at them the way Rose looks at Jack but I'd gone without any form of real friendship for most of my life and I was filled with some kinda abstract desperation to be nearer, my god, to anyone. 

Alas, I ate my feelings and kept on doing what I do best: seeking out and inventing ways to entertain myself. I'd been doing a lotta pen & ink drawing around this time, mostly just copying other people's work I'd seen in bizarre art books - a sincere passion that truly excited me but was admittedly a subconscious response as a distraction from my reality. But my true calling that year (and the 5 or 6 years that followed) was writing feature length screenplays - filling 5-subject notebooks with long, genre-bending, handwritten scripts. My days became about note taking and research and my nights and weekends were marathons of writing and rewriting and immersing myself in made up situations involving characters and scenarios and outcomes that I could control. That's sorta my pseudo intellectual self analysis and it's probably bullshit; the truth is I was both desperate and excited to see movies exactly how I wanted to see them (even if they were just on paper). Almost immediately, the amount of time I spent writing movies became far greater than the amount I spent watching, which is mixed into the handful of things that really changed the dynamic of this year. 

Alongside the Titanic craze, my heart continued to go on for a lotta the '97 stuff. It wasn't until Spring/Summer that I began to notice 1998 taking shape. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas arrived in May as a North Star to orient me in my firmly established interests of film, music, literature, and of course, pen & ink drawing. That obsession flourished for as long as it was in theaters (until it was booted out by some X-Files movie). But, in between its theatrical and home video release, the absolute core of my 1998 was dominated by D-Day. 

There was a buildup: Spielberg Doing History was becoming a rapidly expanding and respected subgenre for my father and I, and Saving Private Ryan was a decidedly big deal to us even before we saw it. And then we saw it. The film is many things: on the surface it's a wildly violent Action Movie, but it's also an honest Historical Epic, a groundbreaking War Film, a patriotic promotional campaign, and on the visceral level, an intense Thriller. So intense that my father and I agreed that we probably didn't have the physical endurance to watch the movie again. 

We retuned to the theater 12 more times that year to see it - a still standing record for each of us. 

I'd always appreciated the theater experience on an almost religious plane, but Ryan stirred up a sorta physical addiction. I loved the movie, but I was entirely consumed by the presentation: audience reaction, the scope of the screen, and most importantly, the sound; I knew that in the very near future this film would be confined to home video magnetic tape and the sheer volume and intricate audio effects would be lost in the translation, and so I hungrily devoured this big loud atmosphere as many times as possible before something like Thin Red Line came bumbling in to take its screen. It's experiences like this that have thickened my hide against the flimsy fallacy of "streaming premieres at home." Get real.

In just these very few interests and adventures I've mentioned, they were all sprawling and engrossing enough to occupy my entire year, and to not remember it for being depressing and angsty. It also didn't leave a lotta space to experience too many new movies -- and looking back at what there was I think that worked out just fine; what I liked I loved, and the rest felt like a cumbersome drag. I suppose a psychedelic road trip and the beaches of Normandy set the bar too high for me; the highest grossing movie of that year was Armageddon and the Best Picture winner ended up being Shakespeare in Love, so that's the broad spectrum of the blah that specifically wasn't moving me. I always speak so highly of the 90s but there were still dips and diversions that allowed me to catch my breath and reflect - just long enough to force me to appreciate the medium even more. 

It was the year of asteroids and animated insects. Queen Elizabeth I and World War II. The return of Godzilla, Norman Bates, Michael Myers, and Chucky. Boomer nostalgia initiated the "reboot" brand with Lost in Space, Dr. Dolittle, A Perfect Murder, You've Got Mail, and The Odd Couple II. The Fugitive received both a sequel and a parody. Joe Dante and John Landis both came back and both struck out. Adam Sandler became a top earner. Slashers limped along as Science Fiction became the new Horror; the highest grossing scary movie came from Marvel Comics. I think I liked more songs from this year than I did movies, which is a capsized scenario for me in the 1990s. And so I've done my best -- 15 best to be awkwardly exact, which is the most honest total I could muster. But that's just, like, my opinion, man.

- Paul

1. Saving Private Ryan

It has some performances, an adequate music score, and a generously coherent story and script. This movie is about editing, sound, cinematography, and directing; one of the most striking technical achievements in Cinema and the movie that forced me to reevaluate Spielberg as more than just the name brand for quality entertainment. I had a more articulate appreciation for his entire body of work after this, as well as higher expectations for him (and all films) in the years to come. 

2. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

It has its cult status now, but I sat in 4 empty showings of this faithful adaptation of an otherwise famous book because I couldn't get enough of its bat country craziness. I've never really done drugs and I've never really felt the need to as long as I can buy this ticket and take the ride. 

3. Hurlyburly

I'm always forced to struggle for some kinda pretentious explanation as to why I love this screen adaptation of David Rabe's 1984 Off-Broadway (then Broadway) play. I totally get it's not for everyone - even I struggled with it initially. After a few watches the seemingly impenetrable dialogue became embedded in my brain, and I began incorporating lines into my daily life. That's a sign that a movie's had a good effect on you. 

4. A Civil Action

I saw it in the theater and thought it was alright, kinda drab. A few years later I caught it on TV at like 12:30 at night and found that I couldn't stop watching it. That's another good criterion to determine how much you like something; even when I put it on now as background company I usually end up dropped into the water yet again. 

5. Bulworth

The plot felt familiar but it'd never gone in a direction quite like this before. A good year for Comedy I think, and this was a good example of how pointed and adult it had become while still using broad strokes; the fact that this is still funny for the same reasons is a blessing and a curse.

6. Buffalo '66

I don't know what kinda weird goddamn cult this movie has but I guess I'm in it. It's aggressive in its indie aesthetic but I always felt that worked in its favor; it looks like a gritty Crime Drama but it's a Romantic Comedy - and I find it both romantic and comedic. 

7. The Big Lebowski

I quickly recognized it as one of my lesser favorite Coen movies at that point, and yet I still thought it was far fucking out! I've never found it as funny as it thought it was, but the soundtrack and characters and performances of those characters had me watching it over and over like everyone else. 

8. Out of Sight

After a decade of mostly below the radar experiments, Steven Soderbergh finally made a Steven Soderbergh movie (as we now understand them to be). This was the Critical Darling of 1998 and I remember not fully grasping what the hype was about. In hindsight, we clearly just needed more Soderbergh movies. 

9. Rounders

At this point in this decade, it actually felt groundbreaking to have a movie about gangsters and lowlifes that wasn't saturated in violence. But this was a point when I was still interested in actors and performances, and Edward Norton was very quickly becoming my guy and anything he was in felt that much more important. This is still my favorite character of his.  

10. Rushmore

I think I'd already seen Bottle Rocket so I wasn't entirely fooled by how falsely they sold this flick. Something with this much style demands a minute for the viewer to adjust, but it happens fast because it's so consistent. People were throwing around Graduate and Annie Hall comparisons - I found it to be in a class by itself (until he made more movies).

11. Snake Eyes

I approached it as a goofy ass Nic Cage Thriller, and then saw it and realized, "oh, it's a goofy ass Brian DePalma Thriller!" which is its own hip brand of goofy assiness and one that I'm not always into. But when you mixed Brian with someone like Nic (or Pacino or Lithgow), it was the perfect measure of madness for me. 

12. Happiness

Dark Comedy? Black Comedy? Horror Comedy? You can't place it in any precious little package that identifies it as that kinda movie - at least not in the mainstream, and that's its brilliance and its bravery; it's a straightforward narrative starring Hollywood actors and it only has two speeds: nervous laughter and sweaty discomfort.  

13. A Simple Plan

My favorite Sam Raimi film by far, which made perfect sense for me; this is exactly the kind of story and style that should've defined his bigger budget career (not the superhero stuff and not even the Evil Dead wannabes). Anyone who handles Suspense and Drama with this much finesse and chooses Marvel money instead is depriving us and themself. 

14. Pleasantville

Gary Ross became very notable to me as he wrote high concept stories that were rooted silliness and then gradually and eloquently shifted into seriousness (Big, Dave). This was (and still is) the best example of that model, probably because it was the best contrast - it seemed like such a stupid idea, until it clearly wasn't. 

15. American History X

Melodramatic and obvious to the point that it's basically an abridged cartoon. No matter, it's connect-the-dots life lessons fall out of focus when compared to the seething song and dance put on by my boy Ed. I kinda wanted to be his character in Rounders - not so much here, though it did further stimulate my interest in tattoos (within the boundaries of more socially acceptable iconography).

17 Unsung Sidekicks

Second banana. Right hand man. Mini boss. Crony. Aide-de-camp. These are the synonyms for the Watsons and the Igors and the Barney Rubbles and R2-D2s of our collective pop culture pantheon and many of the best and brightest have found their way to the center of the spotlight. This list honors the folks who never got that chance, and so their contributions are that much more precious to me. Join me in thanking them for their service. 

- Paul

Willie Tanner

ALF

Let's face it: ALF ain't nothin' without a competent straight man to not laugh at his sarcastic, antiquated humor - and Willie deflected the bad puns and carefree callousness with a cutting sense of indifference. He openly loved & protected the alien, and rarely hid his hatred for him.

Bob

Batman

Even steady employer Jonathan Demme referred to the great Tracey Walter as "Bob from Batman." He may've been a Second Banana, but he was The Number One Guy; even Robin was never this faithful. 

Judas

The Last Temptation of Christ

I'll be honest: most of what I learned about the story of Jesus I learned from Last Temptation. So, naive me understood that Judas was only ever a loyal, protective disciple who was only fulfilling the Messiah's wishes. Original Scripture aside, Harvey Keitel's Judas proves to be the real hero of this fable. 

Nikki

Who's Harry Crumb?

The younger, inexperienced character who's eager to help is usually met with a lotta finger-waggling resistance. Not only is Nikki encouraged to participate, we're mercifully spared from a climax where a villain uses her as a human shield. 

Zeus

Die Hard With A Vengeance

On the long list of established heroes who absolutely did not need a partner, John McClane woulda placed somewhere near the top. Having Sam Jackson helps, but the reason Zeus is great is because he's even more of a reluctant everyman than our lead.

Artie

The Adventures of Pete & Pete

At its core, this series was more mysterious than Twin Peaks - due mostly to its impenetrable supporting cast. Artie may be the least subtle thing in the whole show, but that's why his unfaltering goodness is so supernatural. 

Birdie The Early Bird

McDonald's

The McDonaldland crew presents plenty of options, but Birdie's always been kinda my jam. I'm not sure if there was some Howard the Duck/DuckTales vibe that was reaching me, but I know it gives me a great deal of a weird brand of comfort knowing that she's the mascot for the breakfast menu. Not even Mac Tonight has that much responsibility. 

Eduardo

The Limey

You know how difficult it was to settle on one Luis supporting role? But that doesn't diminish my choice; Eduardo sets the whole story in motion, providing valuable exposition along the way, and even mans the getaway car when necessary. 

Meg White

The White Stripes

Maybe I'm just sentimental or nostalgic, or maybe because I relate to drummers, or maybe because I have an undying crush, but I remain casually apathetic to anything Jack White has done since the band split up. It's never gonna be the same without her.

Chuck & Bobby

Hey Vern, It's Ernest/Ernest Saves Christmas/Ernest Goes to Jail

It's a pretty equal partnership (and brotherhood), which makes them both sidekicks to the Numero Uno, Head Honcho, Big Enchilada, E. P. Worrell. I don't know how particularly helpful they are to our hero, but they're always there, trying their best. 

The Gimp

Pulp Fiction

It's blissfully unsettling to wonder about the sinister intentions of the man in the box. Putting aside how he got there, how long he's been in there, what his days consist of etc., who knows how dedicated he is to his lifestyle once he's left to his own devices. 

Josie

Beakman's World

Beakman had a rotating cast of "female assistants," and they all tried to emulate the wit and style of the first and best apprentice, Josie (Alana Ubach). There's nothing too vague going on here: a perky scientist with comedic chops and an excellent fashion sense? I've been under her spell since I was 9. 

Reed

Boogie Nights

Every character in this movie comes from a dark place and follows a dark path. Reed Rothchild is here for a good time - his only blunder is living vicariously through Dirk's victories and defeats, though still remaining the coked-out voice of reason. 

Billy

The Man Who Would Be King

Throughout this whole movie, it's impossible to know who to trust. Billy Fish remains a rock for the duration, but his allegiance remains questionable... until the end, when all doubt is washed away in one heartbreakingly selfless act. 

Torgo

Manos: The Hands of Fate

Not to be condescending, but Torgo does a lot in spite of his many shortcomings. And in the end, he's only human (I think), and basic compassion (and urges) simply don't gel with the rigid dogma of your basic polygamist cult.

Agent 99

Get Smart

Yeah, it's definitely more exciting when it's Barbara Feldon, but if you can find anyone who's smarter and braver than you while never attempting to make you feel inferior for it, you'll be blessed with all the blind courage you'll need to fight your own brand of KAOS. 

STATIC SHOTS

 

1999: The years start coming and they don't stop coming

"How can you possibly be nostalgic about a concept like 'a little while ago'?"
- George Carlin

20 years. Doesn't seem that long, does it? Though, understandably, the older you get, a coupla decades is a blink of the eyes. Added to that, it also depends on where you're standing; at 36 years of age, 20 years ago isn't as supercharged as if I were 26.

1999 may've just been the 1990s with higher contrast and maximum color saturation, but stuff like Britney Spears, Geico commercials, and new Star Wars movies don't exactly place me in a nostalgicoma of reminiscent bliss. In fact, when you hold it up next to any 20 year period from the last century, you'll see drastic changes in politics, science, and technology between then & now - but not so much in cultural avenues like fashion, cars, architecture, and especially entertainment. For a moment, compare 1950 to 1970... Or how about 1960 and 1980... They're like different planets, aren't they? But that's a stubborn argument for another time; besides, 1999 has enough of a mouthfeel that it certainly stands out a bit - at least in my own mind. I was in high school, which is a section of life when you're not entirely informed, but you're the most aware. For me, the air smelled of playful violence and abrasive cheapness. One thing that's always been consistent is that media and the culture have always had their sites on the youth, and I was a youth, and despite my own secret little interests and obsessions, the decibel level of everything else was too loud to concentrate. When you're older (or younger, even) you can design & maintain your own bubble, but it's a bitch when you're 16.

So, what was hip? You remember: The Matrix and The Mummy, "No Scrubs" and "Nookie," SpongeBob and Sopranos, mp3s and Y2K... It all seems like a parody of now, doesn't it? But in the Rap-Rock dumpster fire of pre-9/11 pop culture, there were a few things that were weird enough, silly enough, crazy enough, and/or interesting enough to penetrate my unique brand of teenage angst and elitist outlook: Eminem, multiple multiplex visits, and even Ms. Spears were a few of the freak flags that flew over my fortress of solitude - maybe I had the foresight to anticipate which subjects would have the longevity to hold my interest well into my adulthood. Or, I'm incapable of growth.

Speaking of! Back in 2010, I wrote a brief, crabby temper-tantrum about how Entertainment Weekly's declaration that 1999 was "The Year That Changed Movies" was, in fact, not. Though, looking back over the past 20 years, maybe it did -- just not in the way they'd predicted & I'd hoped for. But, once again, that's a stubborn argument for another time. So let us not make any sweeping statements about the lasting impact (or lack thereof) on the new millennium, and just all agree that '99 was a crazyass bananas year for the film & video medium.

Gaining distance from it now, what I take most from it is the unusually high volume of all-time favorite flicks, followed by a shitload of almost-as-good stuff. (Regretfully back-peddling a minute, these statistics immediately took a nosedive the following year and never recovered.) All my favorite directors released something, and people I'd never thought much of - or never heard of - were suddenly doing interesting things. New, competent actors were emerging. A new Star Wars movie had let me down. A horror movie actually scared me. Spacey had gone mainstream. Hanks was overshadowed by an ensemble cast -- as was Tom Cruise. Only one movie was noted for its special effects, while all the others were making waves with satire, human emotion, social commentary, innovative storytelling techniques, and other old-fashioned things like writing, editing, cinematography, and directing. Clearly we weren't done with the established hallmarks of traditional, narrative moviemaking, and while '99 could've marked a shift in originality, it instead was a curtain call for a century of film that would promptly lap itself in the other direction. And while none of these movies really stepped outside the parameters of just plain old mainstream fare (which is the evolution I'm still waiting for), there was a palpable effort toward quality and innovation - whether they worked or not, the passion for risk was as prevalent as it was in 1970s Cinema.
And that's my final answer.

- Paul

1. Magnolia
Still as young and pretty as the day I married her.
This was the direction I wanted to see filmmaking take - which will always be an inarticulate sentiment, though I tried my best to weight it down with my sorta review some years back. And what that confession boiled down to was that I'd never committed to one singular favorite movie, until I did, and still do.
Over the past two decades, I've proudly allowed my choice to define me or 'label' me in the eyes of others - much in the way one's choice of wardrobe or religious or political views will influence the perception of their peers. And I bring this up because there's always been an unspoken, sorta wonderful prejudice when it comes to other people's favorite films - especially when they're passionate - and for movie folks like you & I, it's the most legitimate and satisfying instance that we're allowed to sit back and quietly judge you.

2. The Insider
I ingested several doses of this drug before I started to feel the effects. Initially, I was coming at it from the wrong angle: its dense plot full of whistleblowing, gag orders, and tortious interference wasn't exactly rife with thrills, but something had me coming back again & again. Jess once described it as "not really a movie," and she was exactly right; the 'mood' of this thing is the movie - the high contrast cinematography and the spooky New Age/Techno soundtrack swirl around like smoky oils that give this otherwise dry drama some of the heaviest handmade texture I've seen in any movie ever.
Put it in your mouth, light it up, and you're gonna get your fix.

3. The Blair Witch Project
As usual, it's tough to talk about a movie that's been so talked-about (and so firmly divisive). And let's face it - we're never gonna retrace our steps all the way back to the car...
The series of events depicted are as unsettlingly unpredictable as the camera moves and edits that drive it, and the soundtrack consisting solely of the cold, crunchy woods and screams of terror in the darkness make a pretty strong case as the most causticly creepy campfire tale ever told.

4. The Limey
I'm a fan of simplicity, and I think this was the movie that helped me discover that. The story is so Plain-Jane and straightforward that it's like a blank canvas - allowing all kindsa colorful directing and acting and, most confrontationally, some innovative editing that - like it or not - you won't soon forget.

5. Eyes Wide Shut
I went to the theater three times during its run - with the knowledge that this was the last new Kubrick picture we were gonna get on the big screen. I can't say I didn't thoroughly enjoy the movie, but even at the height of my Kubrickian fandom, I was still ignorant to the simple fact that there were subtexts and subtleties and shots and riddles and pacing choices that I simply was unable to absorb in my initial hysteria. Like all his stuff, it was too big to wrap my arms around in just three measly viewings, and after two decades and countless more engagements, it cuts deep in all the vital areas while still hitting all those ambiguously beautiful notes. Also, a color-saturated cinematography guaranteed to melt your face off every time.

6. Payback
Alright, this is complicated. In '99, Brian Helgeland released Payback, which is a super solid pulp noir/kinda Comedy Thriller that largely satisfies, despite its tones of slapstick and a horrible, distracting blue filter applied in post that makes it look like it was made... now.
Then, in 2007, they released Payback Straight Up: The Director's Cut on DVD: the dramatically restructured original version with much much darker subject matter (and no blue), which ultimately elevates the movie high on the list of best hardboiled revenge flicks of all time. And since it was the original, intended cut, I'm counting it as one of the best of the year (more than the blue one).

7. Office Space
A lot of abrasive, sometimes obnoxious comedies came out this year, but there were a few on the subtle side. The cerebral side. The dry side. I don't know how many of these categories Office Space falls under, but its combination of 'low-key' and 'big laughs' is a style that resonates with me, mmmkay? And looking back on it now, it really was American Beauty without the flimsy dialogue or melodrama; exploring the same themes of monotony, freedom, and growth and regression as counterparts. And, how it does, indeed, feel good to be a gangsta.

8. Bringing Out the Dead
Either it was Marty's moodiest piece of work he'd done, or it happened to coincide beautifully with my own mood at the time.
The pace & editing felt less dynamic and/or inspired than Casino or Kundun, and John Goodman and Patricia Arquette turn in uncharacteristically lame performances - but again, I was in a mood.
Still though, between this, Cape Fear, and eventually Shutter Island, the guy's fully capable of committing to a straightforward Horror picture were he so inclined. (Though I feel like that probability has passed us by. Or, I could just be in a mood.)

9. The Sixth Sense
There are two things I take from this movie: one is that it really does feel like the Children's Horror cinema I grew up with (Something Wicked This Way Comes, The Lady in White, even The Good Son kinda), which is a weird, intangible atmosphere to grasp, let alone depict in an original story. Secondly - and I've been saying it since Muriel - is that Toni Collette fuckin' rocks, and her peers need to start congratulating her with various statues. The twist was its own moment, but the scene in the car between her & Haley Joel was a strong enough ending for this or any other picture.

10. Galaxy Quest
Count this one as a pleasant surprise (though I think the poor marketing had everyone misled).
Three Amigos in space is a good premise (though a pretty easy one), but the parody portion is spread so far & wide that no rock is left unturned: spaceship functions with no purpose, science vernacular with no substance, and the depth and intensity of nerd fanaticism is all played not just for laughs, but as a cohesive and compelling story.
It's a crazy cast, but the idea of Sigourney fighting aliens in outer space is a solid gag that the movie maturely never calls out.

11. Being John Malkovich
This should've been the wakeup call for original screenplays in the coming years. And in many cases, it was: though most of the ripoffs it inspired usually failed in balancing the formula of weird and quirky (they were usually too much of one and not enough the other). Even this movie wobbles a bit in the third act as it tries to maintain its abstract composure. Even so, it still Malkovich to be the Malkovich Malkovich that had yet to Malkovich.

12. The Green Mile
Preachy. Vulgar. Manipulative. Overwrought. Without these characteristics, it would've been a pretty ho-hum piece of puff, but instead it's the Scifi Shawshank mashup we didn't know we needed till it set our heads ablaze. Weirder, punk rock Stephen King never gets this much exposure or prestige (those're left to the made-for-TV folks), but if this is the result of big studio doings, there needs to be more of it.

13. The Straight Story
This wasn't an entirely new shade of Lynch, but this is two coats of broad strokes of his fascination with his Middle American roots. There's still plenty of smoke and flames and electricity and astronomy and dead animals to keep us oriented, but its core value is that the guy always knew and still knows how to tell a 'straight story' without any abstractions or dark subject matter.

14. The Iron Giant
It's not a Disney/Warner Bros. coproduction, but it sure-as-shit could be - and that's a great thing. A nostalgic ambience permeates this entire thing (as was shamelessly intended), and the effects are both comforting and engrossing -- and both of those sentiments are put to the test with a climax that separates the men from the boys.

15. Election
Very few movies capture the true flavor of high school - and Election is not one of those few. But, that's what makes it what it is: its hyperrealism steps so far over the line that this supposed Teen Comedy (full of teens and comedy) is so absurd and existentially painful that you can't actually define it.
On second thought, maybe it is like high school.

16. The Talented Mr. Ripley
The Paranoid Thriller genre had started to dry up by the end of the decade -- which made this jazzy approach to the formula so stimulating. Though its greatest accomplishment is that it's told through the eyes of a disturbed character, and so, logically, the story itself is often convoluted and disorienting - and very few movies support character development in such a challenging, ballsy way.

17. Fight Club
I don't care how closely it follows the book: the final act of this movie is pretty tedious and unmemorable. In fact, the middle sags pretty low to the ground as well. But it is on this list, because, even to this day, the first 30 minutes is some of the most fun I've ever had at the movies. And while I don't think it would have been wise to keep that pace for an entire feature, I'd just wished it'd gone in any other direction than the one it took.

18. Three Kings
A little less Platoon and a little more Catch-22 is an equation I'm usually down for - and disregarding all strengths and weaknesses, that's a fair observation of this decidedly cute war picture.
Despite its Desert Storm setting, this is the most "1999" movie on this list - it's shot & cut like a Sugar Ray video - but it's most notable to me as the first time I started to notice Clooney and Wahlberg as not just solid thespians, but also clearly interested in doing only cool and/or important stuff. (This assessment would eventually prove to be only sorta true.)

19. Felicia's Journey
So rarely has "journey" been such a prophetic forewarning. The biggest bite this movie has is that however it was sold to us couldn't possibly scratch the surface of the path it takes; it picks us up & then drops us off somewhere with no hope of ever finding our way back.
& that's all I wanna disclose.

20. Flawless
The movie's not that great. Actually, it's kinda lame. Which is a shame, because the list of great Phil Hoffman performances is so extensive that it's hard to pick favorites. But I gotta say, if someone ever needed proof of his talents, I think this is the movie I'd show 'em.

STATIC SHOTS

MY AWESOME MIX TAPE #4

STATIC SHOTS

MY AWESOME MIX TAPE #2