Film of the Year: 2007 (...1966)

Fahrenheit 451 is simple, effective, and a tour-de-force of "La Nouvelle Vague." This exceptionally creative -- even briliant piece of dystopian filmaking shows François Truffaut using all of the devices of the French New Wave to effectively tell a science fiction fable, and the results are unique to say the least. With Nicholas Roeg and Bernard Herrman on board, this is my favorite of his films and a pinnacle for the genre "Cinéma Fantastique."

Ray Bradbury's story proceeds from a deceptively simple premise: What would life be like with the total absence of the written word? The book takes a philosophical/ analytical approach to this question, whereas Truffaut adapts it to a more melodramatic and visual meditation on a banal, almost pleasant, totalitarian state -- the kind most would feel comfortable in. Very few American directors would have approached the material this way; on the surface, this world is not so much terrifying as it is dull and boring.

This can be no more apparent than in the realms of life where books do not apparently play an immediate role, but upon closer examination inform so many or our decisions and the quality of our interactions. Truffaut's film shines in these moments, particularly in the relationship between Montague and his wife. If I have one gripe, it is that Truffaut is a little too condescending, and does not get into the very ugly, frighteningly depressing issues he brings up; I do not know how much Montague's wife is a villain, but more of a pitiful, helpless, even sympathetic character. Also, Bradbury's ending has always seemed a little too simplistic for me.

Yet the power of the message of Fahrenheit 451 cannot be underestimated. Despite the ubiquity of the title, its cautionary message has not been heeded by many.

The Call of Cthulhu

Gore Verbiski's manic, shallow riff on Pirate lore really catches up with him in this third installment of a near billion-dollar series. In all my years I have never encountered a more convoluted plot in a film, nor more unbelievable character development. Taken together, this 8-hour trilogy is fatally flawed in its vain attempts to create a postmodern adventure story; throwing in new "rules" and shifting already anemic allegiances every five minutes fails to make nonsensical material intellectual.

The Pirates of the Caribbean films have ransacked an entire genre -- hell, an entire century -- of its most cherished and magnificent visuals. "The Maelstrom" is one of Edgar Allen Poe's great stories, as are countless others (Dumas, Stevenson, Lovecraft, Melville) that are shilled in the name of this Bruckheimer Splenda fest. This was already painfully evident in the first two films, but I found myself enjoying Dead Man's Chest despite it all; Davy Jones and the Flying Dutchman were quite simply pulled off too well for me to disregard.

Alas, Pirates III hypes up all of the worst elements of the series and it's where the chickens really come home to roost. The pretentious attempt to bring in political and colonial history? Check. The convoluted, grating creation of all things "pirate" and their world? Much worse this time around. Groan-inducing romance, senseless action scenes, goofy cameos and Keira Knightly as a leading lady? Oh baby, you don't know the half of it. The list goes on and on, but suffice to say that this story has run its course headlong into a cement wall.

I will end this review by stating how completely disappointed anyone must be who enjoyed the performances of Johnny Depp, Bill Nighy, and Stellan Skarsgard in the previous films. None of their characters drive the 8-ring circus of action, and Davy jones is just paraded about as another has-been CGI effect. This is the shallowest of Hollywood and Disney pap. And no, the FX aren't appreciably any better than in #2; even with 2000 composite shots and the largest set in history Pirates III is a bore.