The triumphs of 2003 were striking contrasts of big and small. Peter Jackson’s “The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King” is the 3-hour-and-20-minute capper to the most grandly scaled movie project ever — and its accomplishment matches its ambition.
Andrew Jarecki’s “Capturing the Friedmans,” in comparison, is about as painfully intimate a look at a truly dysfunctional family as you’re likely to see on screen. It’s a “little” movie, but the truths it reveals (or can’t reveal) are large.
In fact, whether budgeted at $100,000 or $100 million, what links the year’s best films is that they never lose touch with the human (or hobbit) side to the story. “Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World” may have featured spectacular sea battles, but what lingers is the quiet camaraderie between the captain and doctor or the sweet, determined face of that 12-year-old Lord Blakeney.
Meanwhile, Sofia Coppola’s “Lost in Translation,” Jim Sheridan’s “In America” and Alan Rudolph’s somewhat more wobbly “The Secret Lives of Dentists” portray the personal struggles of married characters with a clarity, sympathy and attention to detail rarely seen on film. Even “Finding Nemo,” for all of its dazzling computer-generated art design, is rooted in a potent father-son story.
When such truthful emotions are on display, the contrivances and manipulations of other big-ticket items become harder to swallow. “The Last Samurai” and “Mona Lisa Smile” come off as self-congratulatory Oscar bait, and “Seabiscuit,” loaded down with so much preachiness and syrup, is ultimately a less affecting underdog’s story than the earthy Harvey Pekar tale “American Splendor.”
The tension between big and small was most apparent over the summer. If you just saw the big stuff — “The Matrix Reloaded,” “The Hulk,” “Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle” and all of those other stupid franchise movies — it was a disappointing season. But if you stuck with smaller fare such as “Whale Rider,” “Dentists,” spring holdover “Bend It Like Beckham” and the documentaries “Winged Migration,” “Spellbound” and “Capturing the Friedmans,” you got your money’s worth. In general, 2003 was a breakthrough year for non-fiction films; those last three all joined 2002’s “Bowling for Columbine” on the all-time top-10 box-office list for docs, and Errol Morris’ year-end release “The Fog of War” is as captivating a character study as you’re likely to see.
Sure, this also was the year of “Dumb and Dumberer,” “The Real Cancun,” “From Justin to Kelly” and “Gigli,” but you probably didn’t see those anyway. So let’s salute the top 10 films and worthy runners-up that made going to the theater a treat in 2003.
P.S. Not under consideration for this list is Quentin Tarantino’s gloriously shot, unevenly toned “Kill Bill, Vol. 1,” which essentially is half a movie. If you want to play this year-end kudos game, it doesn’t pay to think that small.
“The Lord of the Rings:
The Return of the King”
(U.S.-New Zealand; Peter Jackson.) It’s hard to remember just how unfilmable J.R.R. Tolkien’s epic novel was considered before “The Fellowship of the Ring” kicked off Jackson’s triumphant film trilogy two years ago. Now the movies’ images are indelibly intertwined with Tolkien’s tale, and the finale is the most spectacular and emotional installment of the bunch. OK, so the ending does go on a bit, but such artistic (not to mention financial) risk-taking, with such a wondrous outcome, must be saluted. A landmark.
“City of God”
(Brazil; Fernando Meirelles.) This stunning directorial debut demonstrates that a movie can be thrilling and violent without the violence being thrilling. That is, Meirelles tells a dark, true story, about a young photographer growing up in Rio de Janeiro’s most brutal slums, with such energy, flair and humor that you’re propelled through the action — and with such vividness that the horror truly shocks.
“Finding Nemo”
(U.S.; Andrew Stanton.) This already-classic will win the best animated movie Oscar, but it deserves to contend for the big prize. Yes, the computer animation is superior, the visuals truly beautiful, but it’s the writing and performances (led by Albert Brooks and Ellen DeGeneres, as sympathetic and funny as they’ll ever be) that make Pixar’s latest such an entertaining, moving experience. One need only to watch, say, “Sinbad” or “Brother Bear” to realize on what a superior level the storytellers at Pixar are operating.
“Lost in Translation”
(U.S.; Sofia Coppola.) Following her accomplished debut “The Virgin Suicides,” Coppola puts even more faith in her intuitive instincts with superior results: This movie immerses you in its characters’ internal and external worlds as it indelibly captures the dislocation of traveling abroad, the powerful intimacy of kindred souls crossing paths and the delicate balancing acts that constitute a marriage. And Bill Murray (nominate him, Oscar voters) and Scarlett Johansson are wonderful.
“Capturing the Friedmans”
(U.S.; Andrew Jarecki.) A formerly respectable Long Island family essentially videotapes its own disintegration amid child sexual-abuse charges in this powerfully perplexing documentary, in which each layer of revealed truth just adds another layer of mystery. This unforgettable movie can be seen as a study in denial, community hysteria or just the elusiveness of absolute truth, even among those closest to the story.
“In America”
(Ireland-U.K.; Jim Sheridan.) An Irish immigrant family struggles upon moving to New York City, and guess what? Life is pretty glorious anyway. Told from the perspective of two young sisters (played with great charm by actual sisters Sarah and Emma Bolger), Sheridan’s semi-autobiographical tale is melancholy-tinged magic.
“American Splendor”
(U.S.; Shari Springer Berman and Robert Pulcini.) How good is Paul Giamatti as cranky Cleveland underground comic-book writer Harvey Pekar? The filmmakers keep cutting to interview segments with the actual Pekar, and you still believe Giamatti is the same guy. Innovatively interweaving various presentations of reality (comic book, dramatization, documentary . . . ), the movie makes the case that everyday people tackling everyday struggles can be the real superheroes.
“The Fog of War”
(U.S.; Errol Morris.) The subject may sound dry — former U.S. Defense Secretary Robert McNamara discussing the Vietnam War and other challenges of his career — yet Morris has a genius for matching images to words to Philip Glass’ hypnotic (as opposed to annoying) music, and McNamara proves as formidable and complex a character as you’re likely to encounter. A truly cinematic experience that leaves you pondering basic issues of morality, as well as political spin.
“Master and Commander:
The Far Side of the World”
(U.S.; Peter Weir.) You can smell the salt in the air in Weir’s typically intelligent, atmosphere-steeped adaptation of Patrick O’ Brian’s high-seas adventures. With Russell Crowe delivering relaxed movie-star authority as Capt. Jack Aubrey and Paul Bettany providing the quiet soul as Dr. Stephen Maturin, Weir has made an action film for grown-ups.
“Whale Rider”
(New Zealand; Niki Caro.) This is the best of the recent female-empowerment fables (“Bend It Like Beckham,” “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”), as director Caro (no relation) takes a familiar setup — a girl wishes to be recognized in traditional male-dominant society — and infuses it with so much affection and cultural specificity about the Maoris that it packs a surprising emotional punch. Young star Keisha Castle-Hughes anchors everything with a winning, natural performance.
First runner-up
“Bad Santa” (U.S.; Terry Zwigoff.) I wanted to put this in a tie with “Whale Rider,” but my stick-in-the-mud editor said no, even though on no objective level can one compare these two movies; it’s like measuring a corkscrew against a pancake. Every top, um, 11 needs a flat-out comedy, and this nasty piece of work made me laugh more than any other this year. It’s filled with quotable lines (as long as you’re careful to whom you quote them), and it’s an uncompromising look at a lowlife when almost any other movie would have poured on the artificial sweetener.
Bubbling under
“School of Rock” (U.S.; Richard Linklater) is the movie version of a perfect three-minute pop song: formulaic, undeniable.
“Spellbound” (U.S.; Jeff Blitz) makes a kids’ spelling bee far more dramatic and exciting than any so-called reality show.
“L’Auberge Espagnole” (France-Spain; Cedric Klapisch) was the year’s most charming import, a sunny tale about a French exchange student moving into an apartment full of international students in Barcelona.
“Buffalo Soldiers” (U.K.-Germany; Gregor Jordan) was the right movie at the wrong time, a potent military-skewering black comedy bought by Miramax the night before the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks and belatedly released this summer to indifference and/or discomfort.
“The Magdalene Sisters” (U.K.-Ireland; Peter Mullan), about young Irish women incarcerated in Church-run laundries, proved to be the year’s scariest horror film.
“The Triplets of Belleville” (France-Belgium-Canada; Sylvain Chomet) mixes quirky hand-drawn animation, surreal imagery and minimal dialogue to create an oddball, culture-skewering delight.
“Elephant” (U.S.; Gus Van Sant) doesn’t provide answers for the Columbine shootings, but it hypnotically, non-judgmentally presents a high school on the edge of tragedy.
And what about . . .
Most perceptive portrayal of mixed-up young love: “All the Real Girls” (U.S.; David Gordon Green).
Most vivid portrayal of a family suffering the flu: “The Secret Lives of Dentists” (U.S.; Alan Rudolph).
Most evocative look at Hollywood hedonism: “Laurel Canyon” (U.S.; Lisa Cholodenko).
Most effective metaphor for the spread of violence: the post-apocalyptic zombie movie “28 Days Later” (U.K.; Danny Boyle).
Smartest portrayal of journalism: “Shattered Glass” (U.S.; Billy Ray).
The “I’ll Never Think of Steak-and-Kidney Pie in Quite the Same Way” award: “Dirty Pretty Things” (U.K.; Stephen Frears).
Fine performances, accomplished filmmaking, not quite up-to-snuff writing: “21 Grams” (U.S.; Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu).
Fine performances, accomplished filmmaking, a doozy of a coincidence that makes everything a bit less profound: “Mystic River” (U.S.; Clint Eastwood).
Fine performances, accomplished filmmaking, but do you have to make us feel that bad? “House of Sand and Fog” (U.S.; Vadim Perelman).
Unlikeliest middle-age sex symbol: William H. Macy as the loser-turned-winner in “The Cooler” (U.S.; Wayne Kramer).
Best actress you’ve barely heard of: Hope Davis, who delivered finely etched portraits of two very different wives in “American Splendor” and “The Secret Lives of Dentists.”
Oscar wake-up call: Which single performance generated more enjoyment than any other this year? It would have to be Johnny Depp’s eccentric turn as a swishy pirate in “Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl,” which turned what might have been a CGI-dominated spectacle into a crowd-pleasing romp. If Oscar voters want to prove that they don’t equate great acting with deathly seriousness, Depp’s performance is a good place to start.
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Give us your feedback
What movies made your Top 10 list? Email us your 10 favorite films of 2003 at ctc-arts@tribune.com. We’ll print a sampling of the responses in the Jan. 4 Arts & Entertainment.
