Here's to the Honorable Mentions: Alice, Cinema Paradiso, King of New York, Miller's Crossing, Mr. & Mrs. Bridge, Postcards from the Edge, Reversal of Fortune, and to my #11, Mermaids. They almost made it to this Top Ten and, in the years to come, some may wind up becoming more dear to me than the films below. As of today, though, after 75 films and much consideration, these are my Top Ten Films of 1990 - in alphabetical order:
Akira Kurosawa's Dreams
Few filmmakers can capture the feeling of dreaming (Lynch does this well). Kurosawa sustains it through an entire film of vignettes, some dreams more logical than others, each managing to look at our powerlessness against forces greater than ourselves (whether they be gods, weather, war, or nuclear energy) and the tie (yes, the one tie, everlasting) that binds us to our past, present, and future. We cry as a child at the threat of being banished from home; we come to the end welcoming what comes next in a great parade, knowing we are part of this great cycle. Our dreams hold these truths.
Avalon
What does it mean to be an American? Thousands, millions uproot their lives to rebuild, rebrand, take part in the American Dream. How do we know when we’ve achieved it? Is it the white picket fence in the suburbs? Is it when we can call ourselves an independent business owner? Does it only count if we branch out to become a big boss of a corporation with many franchises? Can we still count ourselves as American if we keep the customs of our parents and grandparents who first came here, who left their countries but not their cultures, not their identities, not their heritage? Must our success at Being American be measured against how alien our own ancestors seem to us?
The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover
Isn’t it fun when filmmakers use food to discuss their own creative process and conflicts? Here they are, the chef and the filmmaker, meticulous in the details of their creation, choosing just the right colors for an appetizing visual, surprising combinations of flavor/genre to create a one-of-a-kind, impossible to duplicate experience, one that the real lovers don’t merely appreciate, but must express themselves passionately, with likeminded spirits. And what can ruin it? The crass idiot who says, “Oy, what’s this pretentious crap, I want me money’s worth!” Eat a dick, dude.
Dick Tracy
Over the years, I’ve come to find that maybe I like the idea more so than I enjoy watching the whole of it, so shaggy is its story, so uneven is its pacing, so distracting are these cameos. But, dammit, there’s a lot of heart in this thing, it is absolutely wild that they spent this much passion and money and effort on making a live action comic strip that actually works on that level - even the colors are the exact hue you’d find opening up the Sunday comics section! Story, shmory, this is an excuse to get weirdly experimental with what cinema can do visually, how far we can push the medium into blending two visual languages into one. Mute it and you understand the story perfectly. Unmute it and you get to hear Madonna say, “You don’t know whether to kiss me or hit me, I get that a lot.”
Edward Scissorhands
I’ve been obsessively watching this movie since I was 10, an age where i was self-aware enough to watch a movie solely because it was Vincent Price’s final performance but not so self-aware as to understand why a story about someone who feels so ~different~ that it doesn’t matter what gifts you have or joy you bring, society will inevitably remind you that your presence is tolerated on a contingency basis - not so self-aware as to understand why that might resonate. I did understand snow as enchantment, though, and still find it so.
Ghost
We don’t know how much time we have left; no matter how young, healthy, and wealthy you may be, tomorrow is not promised. So don’t say ditto, go ahead and tell the people in your life, “I love you, too.” Value each other. Value honesty. Value the connections between us, not the material that divides us. It is love that binds us, love that can keep us grounded, love that can set our spirit free. Everything else makes us shadow monsters, and those are terrifying.
GoodFellas
It is incredible how Martin Scorsese can make such a clear-eyed morality play about a corrupted version of the American Dream - you, too, can pull yourself up by the bootstraps…of the guy you just swiped them from! - that makes a clear mockery of these sleazy thugs with tacky taste in clothes, makeup, and decor, whining about the “good ol’ days” when their best friend was a guy they’d never let get behind them…and you still have a rollicking good time. Seriously, every time I finish watching it, I want to start it over again. What a flick!
Metropolitan
This movie reminds me of the girl a bunch of us fawned over in college and how I told one of my friends that she was so genuine for preferring the intimacy of VHS over the unfeeling digital of DVD and he was like, “No, she’s not, she’s sacrificing quality for cool points. For what?” Or of the many parties in high school where we played a game called "Confessions" and, like, 15 people felt like they were baring their souls to a room of their best friends, half of whom you wouldn't see next summer. Anyway, if those kind of conversations/memories both embarrass and entertain you (if you can’t laugh at yourself…plenty of people will anyway), this one’s a great snapshot of that age: the educated-enough young adults,16-20, who definitely know it all and can speed run a friendship from acquaintance to bestie to estranged in between school semesters.
Santa Sangre
A collection of my own movie obsessions, all in one film! You've got musical numbers, androgynous men, powerful women, carnies, obsessive religious cults, kinky sex, and a slasher plot - what more do we want from the movies? All that to tell a story of the past haunting the present: adolescence traumatized is development arrested, the things we remember become our obsessions, our religion. Bold in story and visuals.
Texasville
Of all the "revisits" from this year, this was the one that hit hardest and rang truest. Following up with the cast of The Last Picture Show twenty years later, not in glorious black-and-white but in unforgiving color, Texasville is less concerned with major regrets and ghosts of the past (though poor Timothy Bottoms certainly has his) than it is with observing people who wake up and realize that decades have gone by. Their what-ifs are not expressions of regret, but merely a peek into another timeline. They see the next generation repeating their own mistakes, reflecting their own shortcomings. At the same time, there is a level of acceptance, as mistresses jacuzzi with their lovers' wives and divorcées find solace with their exes’ drinking buddies' sons. Ultimately, it's a movie about history, knowing yours and embracing it, bordello, bootleg liquor, and all.
When next we meet, you'll see my nominee for the 1990 Retro Hollmann Awards.
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