2008 was a year filled with event films, blockbusters that captured a piece of the national conversation in a year that saw less pleasant discussions dominate the American discourse. 2008 also saw a continuation of independent films’ greater prominence in the mainstream.
Films free of direct studio control played to wonderfully packed houses, and The Dark Knight was widely seen as a fusion of independent spirit with Hollywood money.
In January, visionary director Uwe Boll released his latest video-game adaptation and modern masterpiece In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale. To the astonishment of critics everywhere, if flopped. Cloverfield filled theaters on opening day and proved to be an audience pleaser and, for some, an effective emetic. Meet the Spartans continued the X Movie series with another pop-culture reference-filled argument for creativity in modern comedy. Rambo released the same day and quickly became notorious for sneak-ins by young boys who bought tickets for Spartans and then crept into the back of the Rambo theater for a dose of machine-gun obliterations, grievous bodily harm by pointy objects, and manly mumbling.
February was notable for what might be termed anti-prestige pictures, with the release of Jessica Alba, Matthew McConaughey, and Paris Hilton vehicles. Be Kind Rewind failed to charm audiences as much as it had hoped, but people everywhere were inspired to create their own “sweded” versions of movies per the style of the film, sparking a joy in the process that the film itself didn’t quite capture. Larry the Cable Guy epitomized exactly the wrong sort of manliness in Witless Protection.
March had some movies in it. Disney reclaimed the “Road Trip” concept for the children with College Road Trip.
April saw three oddly timed horror films, with The Ruins, Prom Night, and Pathology. The Visitor saw a limited release that is currently making the wider rounds. Forgetting Sarah Marshall was the latest Apatowbranded film that continued a few trends in the new R-rated comedy with a good bit of heart alongside the nudity. Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed lived up to its title. Harold and Kumar escaped from Guantanamo Bay.
In May, Iron Man was the first smash hit of the year that did not star Miley Cyrus. Son of Rambow was another paean to amateur filmmaking enthusiasm, and a joy to watch at that. Hardly anyone saw The Fall, which is a shame: it’s one of most beautiful movies I’ve ever seen. Quite a few more saw the new Indiana Jones and Speed Racer, both of which would have been impossible to make just a few years ago. Go computers. The Strangers, which had easily the best-cut and most terrifying trailer I had ever seen, turned out to be a lot less terrifying at full length. Uwe Boll’s Postal tried to offend everyone and offended only the film’s financial backers, such as they were.
Kung Fu Panda started June off with a second bit of cultural appropriation, following May’s The Forbidden Kingdom in an Americanized Kung Fu fantasy. The CG film fared much better than the live action one, due in part no doubt to the greater adorability of pandas than teenage boys with disturbing chest hair. The Happening came, bored people, and went, leaving a series of promotional posters that became favorite targets for vandalism. The Incredible Hulk tried again to give Bruce Banner a decent full-length film. By most accounts, it succeeded. WALL-E and Wanted shared a release day, metallic objects curving through space, and nothing else.
It would be easy to believe that The Dark Knight was the only film released in July. Currently second only to Titanic in worldwide gross, The Dark Knight was seen by everyone from middle school girls to arthouse-attending widowers with grandchildren. Heath Ledger’s Joker became the most frequently quoted character of the year, and quite likely the most popular villain of the decade. In other film news, Eddie Murphy did not inflict enough violence to his person in Meet Dave to make up for last year’s Norbit. Abeautiful documentary of Phillippe Petit’s wire walk between the Trade Center towers, Man on Wire saw a quiet release.
In August, Pineapple Express gave theatregoers everywhere a contact high. Tropic Thunder brought violence to the modern hard-R comedy. Americans everywhere suffered the calamity of a Disaster Movie that broke the hope and hearts of long-suffering victims of witless parody. Javier Bardem played what would have only a decade ago been Woody Allen’s role in Vicky Cristina Barcelona, much to Scarlet Johannson’s relief.
September saw the brilliantly nihilistic Burn After Reading as well as what Male Gaze originator Kyle Cassidy called a “neighborhood association-themed horror film,” Lakeview Terrace. Shia LaBeouf looked very concerned in Eagle Eye.
October saw a number of films that should have fared better and a number that did too well. Religulous followed Expelled in being ignored by almost everyone; Quarantine made fear of rabies the new fear of showers; W. was nice; Saw V continued Lionsgate’s fascination with improbable deathtraps and ketchup; Zach and Miri made a porno; and Synecdoche, New York blew minds and toupees off the warehouse.
November gave us all a cautionary tale about sparkling vampires in Twilight, and a less than ideal farewell to Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes in Soul Men. RIP, both fine men. Milk gave a respectful, long-overdue farewell to Harvey Milk.
December tried very hard to win an Oscar for “Best Showing of Awards-Bait by a Month,” with The Reader, Wendy and Lucy, Frost/Nixon, The Wrestler, Gran Torino, Revolutionary Road, Defiance, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, and Waltz with Bashir. Oscar-asking timing notwithstanding, these are all fine films. My Netflix cue runneth over.
My top five, in no particular order: Vicky Cristina Barcelona, WALL-E, Synecdoche, New York, Burn After Reading, and Man on Wire. Next year will be grand.