And The Winner Is...The Year 2001 in Awards

Well, that's it for 2001, almost. Joe Bowman of the brilliant Fin de cinema; a beautiful resource of the best on World, European and independent cinema, his impressive series 'The Decade List' continues unabated and goes down as a definite read for any self-respecting cinephile, wraps up the year with the obligatory round of back-slapping, self congratulating, love-fest that is the film awards. Joe supplies us with an exhaustive, cohesive list of the years biggest awards and winners and brings the curtain down on part 2 of our noughties retrospective for Counting Down The Zeroes. See you all in 2002. And the winner is...

Director Nanni Moretti, winner of the Palme D'or with The Son's Room

Cannes Film Festival, held 9-20 May 2001

Palme d'Or: La Stanza del figlio (The Son's Room) [d. Nanni Moretti]
Grand Prix: La Pianiste (The Piano Teacher) [d. Michael Haneke]
Best Director: (tie) David Lynch - Mulholland Drive; Joel Coen - The Man Who Wasn't There
Best Actor: Benoît Magimel - La Pianiste
Best Actress: Isabelle Huppert - La Pianiste [unanimously]
Best Screenplay: Danis Tanovic - No Man's Land
Technical Grand Prize: Tu Du-Che - Millennium Mambo
Camera d'Or: Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner [d. Zacharias Kunuk]

Venice Film Festival, held 29 August - 8 September 2002

Golden Lion: Monsoon Wedding [d. Mira Nair]
Grand Special Jury Prize: Hundstage (Dog Days) [d. Ulrich Seidl]
Best Actor: Luigi Lo Cascio - Luce dei miei occhi [Light of My Eyes]
Best Actress: Sandra Ceccarelli - Luce dei miei occhi
Career Golden Lion: Eric Rohmer

Toronto International Film Festival, held 6-15 September 2001

People's Choice Award: Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain (Amélie) [d. Jean-Pierre Jeunet]
Discovery Award: Chicken Rice War [d. Cheah Chee Kong]
Best Canadian Feature: Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner [d. Zacharias Kunuk]

Berlin International Film Festival, 7-18 February 2001

Golden Bear: Intimacy [d. Patrice Chéreau]
Best Director: Lin Cheng-sheng - Betelnut Beauty
Best Actor: Benicio Del Toro - Traffic
Best Actress: Kerry Fox - Intimacy
Jury Grand Prix: Beijing Bicycle [d. Wang Xiaoshuai]
Jury Prize: Italiensk for begyndere (Italian for Beginners) [d. Lone Scherfig]
Outstanding Artistic Achievement: You're the one (una historia de entonces) [d. Raúl Pérez Cubero]
Honorary Golden Bear: Kirk Douglas
Teddy (Feature): Hedwig and the Angry Inch [d. John Cameron Mitchell]
Teddy (Documentary): Trembling Before G-d [d. Sandi Simcha Dubowski]
Teddy (Jury Award): Forbidden Fruit [d. Sue Maluwa-Bruce, Beate Kunath]

Sundance Film Festival, held 18-28 January 2001

Grand Jury Prize (Dramatic): The Believer [d. Henry Bean]
Grand Jury Prize (Documentary): Southern Comfort [d. Kate Davis]
Director (Dramatic): John Cameron Mitchell - Hedwig and the Angry Inch
Director (Documentary): Stacy Peralta - Dogtown and Z-Boys
Special Jury Prize (Dramatic): In the Bedroom, for Tom Wilkinson and Sissy Spacek
Special Jury Prize (Documentary): Children Underground [d. Edet Belzberg]
Cinematography (Dramatic): Giles Nuttgens - The Deep End
Cinematography (Documentary): Albert Maysles - LaLee's Kin: The Legacy of Cotton
Audience Award (Dramatic): Hedwig and the Angry Inch
Audience Award (Documentary): (tie) Dogtown and Z-Boys; Scout's Honor [d. Tom Shepard]
Audience Award (World Cinema): The Road Home [d. Zhang Yimou]

Academy Awards, held 24 March 2002

Best Picture: A Beautiful Mind [d. Ron Howard] Best Director: Ron Howard - A Beautiful Mind
Best Actor: Denzel Washington - Training Day
Best Actress: Halle Berry - Monster's Ball
Best Supporting Actor: Jim Broadbent - Iris
Best Supporting Actress: Jennifer Connelly - A Beautiful Mind
Best Original Screenplay: Julian Fellowes - Gosford Park
Best Adapted Screenplay: Akiva Goldsman - A Beautiful Mind
Best Cinematography: Andrew Lesnie - The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
Best Documentary: Un coupable idéal (Murder on a Sunday Morning) [d. Jean-Xavier de Lestrade, Denis Poncet]
Best Foreign Film: No Man's Land [d. Danis Tanovic]
Animated Feature: Shrek [d. Aron Warner]
Honorary Award: Sidney Poitier, Robert Redford

BAFTAs, held 24 February 2002

Best Film: The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring [d. Peter Jackson]
Best Director: Ang Lee - Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
Best British Film: Billy Elliot [d. Stephen Daldry]
Best Actor: Russell Crowe - A Beautiful Mind
Best Actress: Judi Dench - Iris
Best Supporting Actor: Jim Broadbent - Moulin Rouge!
Best Supporting Actress: Jennifer Connelly - A Beautiful Mind
Best Original Screenplay: Guillaume Laurant, Jean-Pierre Jeunet - Amélie
Best Adapted Screenplay: Ted Elliott, Terry Rossio, Joe Stillman, Roger S.H. Shulman - Shrek
Best Cinematography: Roger Deakins - The Man Who Wasn't There
Film Not in the English Language: Amores perros [d. Alejandro González Iñárritu]

European Film Awards, held 1 December 2001

Best Film: Amélie [d. Jean-Pierre Jeunet]
Best Director: Jean-Pierre Jeunet - Amélie
Best Actor: Ben Kingsley - Sexy Beast
Best Actress: Isabelle Huppert - La Pianiste (The Piano Teacher)
Best Cinematography: Bruno Delbonnel - Amélie
Best Screenplay: Danis Tanovic - No Man's Land
Best Documentary: Black Box BRD [d. Andres Veiel]
Discovery: El Bola [d. Achero Mañas]
Screen International: Moulin Rouge! [d. Baz Luhrmann]
Audience Award (Actor): Colin Firth - Bridget Jones's Diary
Audience Award (Actress): Juliette Binoche - Chocolat
Audience Award (Director): Jean-Pierre Jeunet - Amélie
Life Achievement Award: Monty Python

Independent Spirit, held 23 March 2002

Best Feature: Memento [d. Christopher Nolan]
Best First Feature: In the Bedroom [d. Todd Field]
Best Director: Christopher Nolan - Memento
Best Male Lead: Tom Wilkinson - In the Bedroom
Best Female Lead: Sissy Spacek - In the Bedroom
Best Supporting Male: Steve Buscemi - Ghost World
Best Supporting Female: Carrie-Anne Moss - Memento
Best Debut Performance: Paul Dano - L.I.E.
Best Screenplay: Christopher Nolan - Memento
Best First Screenplay: Daniel Clowes, Terry Zwigoff - Ghost World
Best Cinematography: Peter Deming - Mulholland Drive
Best Documentary: Dogtown and Z-Boys [d. Stacy Peralta]
Best Foreign Film: Amélie [d. Jean-Pierre Jeunet]
Someone to Watch Award: Debra Eisenstadt - Daydream Believer

Golden Globes, held 20 January 2002

Picture (Drama): A Beautiful Mind [d. Ron Howard]
Picture (Comedy/Musical): Moulin Rouge! [d. Baz Luhrmann]
Director: Robert Altman - Gosford Park
Actor (D): Russell Crowe - A Beautiful Mind
Actress (D): Sissy Spacek - In the Bedroom
Actor (M/C): Nicole Kidman - Moulin Rouge!
Actress (M/C): Renée Zellweger - Nurse Betty
Supporting Actor: Jim Broadbent - Iris
Supporting Actress: Jennifer Connelly - A Beautiful Mind
Screenplay: Akiva Goldsman - A Beautiful Mind
Foreign Film: No Man's Land [d. Danis Tanovic]
Cecil B. DeMille Award: Harrison Ford

Césars Awards (France), held 2 March 2002

Best Film (Meilleur film): Amélie [d. Jean-Pierre Jeunet]
Best Director (Meilleur réalisateur): Jean-Pierre Jeunet - Amélie
Best Actor (Meilleur acteur): Michel Bouquet - Comment j'ai tué mon père (How I Killed My Father)
Best Actress (Meilleure actrice): Emmanuelle Devos - Sur mes lèvres (Read My Lips)
Best Supporting Actor (Meilleur acteur dans un second rôle): André Dussollier - La Chambre des officiers (Officer's Ward)
Best Supporting Actress (Meilleure actrice dans un second rôle): Annie Girardot - La Pianiste (The Piano Teacher)
Most Promising Actor (Meilleur espoir masculin): Robinson Stévenin - Mauvais genres (Transfixed)
Most Promising Actress (Meilleur espoir féminin): Rachida Brakni - Chaos
Best Screenplay (Meilleur scénario): Jacques Audiard, Tonino Benacquista - Sur mes lèvres
Best Cinematography (Meilleure photographie): Tetsuo Nagata - La Chambre des officiers
Best Foreign Film (Meilleur film étranger): Mulholland Drive [d. David Lynch]
Best First Film (Meilleur premier film): No Man's Land [d. Danis Tanovic]
Honorary Césars: Anouk Aimée, Jeremy Irons, Claude Rich

Goya Awards (Spain), held 2 February 2002

Best Film (Mejor Película): The Others [d: Alejandro Amenábar]
Best Director (Mejor Director): Alejandro Amenábar - The Others
Best New Director (Mejor Director Novel): Juan Carlos Fresnadillo - Intacto
Best Actor (Mejor Actor Principal): Eduard Fernández - Fausto 5,0
Best Actress (Mejor Actriz Principal): Pilar López de Ayala - Juana la Loca (Mad Love)
Best Supporting Actor (Mejor Actor de Reparto): Emilio Gutiérrez Caba - El cielo abierto
Best Supporting Actress (Mejor Actriz de Reparto): Rosa Maria Sardà - Sin vergüenza (No Shame)
Best New Actor (Mejor Actor Revelación): Leonardo Sbaraglia - Intacto
Best New Actress (Mejor Actriz Revelación): Paz Vega - Lucía y el sexo (Sex and Lucía)
Best Original Screenplay (Mejor Guión Original): Alejandro Amenábar - The Others
Best Adapted Screenplay (Mejor Guión Adaptado): Jorge Juan Martínez, Carlos Molinero, Clara Pérez Escrivá, Lola Salvador - Salvajes (Savages)
Best Spanish Language Foreign Film (Mejor Película Extranjera de Habla Hispana): La fuga [The Escape], Argentina [d: Eduardo Mignogna] Best European Film (Mejor Película Europea): Amèlie [d. Jean-Pierre Jeunet] Honorary Goya: Juan Antonio Bardem

Hong Kong Film Awards, held 21 April 2002

Best Film: Shaolin Soccer [d: Stephen Chow]
Best Director: Stephen Chow - Shaolin Soccer
Best Actor: Stephen Chow - Shaolin Soccer
Best Actress: Sylvia Chang - Forever and Ever
Best Supporting Actor: Wong Yut Fei - Shaolin Soccer
Best Supporting Actress: Karena Lam - July Rhapsody
Best New Performer: Karena Lam - July Rhapsody
Best Screenplay: Ivy Ho - July Rhapsody
Best Asian Film: Spirited Away, Japan [d. Hayao Miyazaki]

The Japanese Academy Awards, held 8 March 2002

Best Film: Spirited Away [d. Hayao Miyazaki]
Best Director: Isao Yukisada - Go
Best Actor: Yôsuke Kubozuka - Go
Best Actress: Keiko Kishi - Kah-chan
Best Supporting Actor: Tsutomu Yamazaki - Go
Best Supporting Actress: Kou Shibasaki - Go
Best Screenplay: Kankurô Kudô - Go
Best Foreign Film: Billy Elliot [d. Stephen Daldry]
Popularity Award: Platonic Sex [d. Masako Matsûra]
Lifetime Achievement: Hayao Miyazaki

Genie Awards (Canada), held 7 February 2002

Best Film: Atanarjuat [d. Zacharias Kunuk]
Best Director: Zacharias Kunuk - Atanarjuat
Best Actor: Brendan Fletcher - The Law of Enclosures
Best Actress: Elise Guilbault - La femme qui boit
Best Supporting Actor: Vincent Gale - Last Wedding
Best Supporting Actress: Molly Parker - Last Wedding
Best Screenplay: Paul Apak Angilirq - Atanarjuat
Claude Jutra Award: Zacharias Kunuk - Atanarjuat

Directors Guild of America, given 9 March 2002

Best Director (Narrative): Ron Howard - A Beautiful Mind
Best Director (Documentary): Chris Hegedus, Jehane Noujaim - Startup.com

Screen Actors Guild Awards, held 11 March

Outstanding Male Actor in a Leading Role: Russell Crowe - A Beautiful Mind Outstanding Female Actor in a Leading Role: Halle Berry - Monster's Ball Outstanding Male Actor in a Supporting Role: Ian McKellan - The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
Outstanding Female Actor in a Supporting Role: Helen Mirren - Gosford Park Outstanding Performance by the Cast of a Theatrical Motion Picture: Gosford Park, given to Eileen Atkins, Bob Balaban, Alan Bates, Charles Dance, Stephen Fry, Michael Gambon, Richard E. Grant, Tom Hollander, Derek Jacobi, Kelly Macdonald, Helen Mirren, Jeremy Northam, Clive Owen, Ryan Philippe, Kristin Scott Thomas, Maggie Smith, Geraldine Somerville, Sophie Thompson, Emily Watson, James Wilby

Razzies

Worst Film: Freddy Got Fingered [d. Tom Green]
Worst Director: Tom Green - Freddy Got Fingered
Worst Actor: Tom Green - Freddy Got Fingered
Worst Actress: Mariah Carey - Glitter
Worst Supporting Actor: Charlton Heston - Cats & Dogs, Planet of the Apes, Town & Country
Worst Supporting Actress: Estella Warren - Planet of the Apes, Driven Worst Screenplay: Tom Green, Derek Harvie - Freddy Got Fingered
Worst Remake/Sequel: Planet of the Apes [d. Tim Burton]

The Year 2001: A Year In Review

As the year 2001 comes to a close, we're once again joined by T.S of the formidable Screen Savour - a great blog, devoted to the world of cinema, where a passion and knowledge of the artform is on constant display with one superb post after another - and his continuing series, in which he reviews the year in film and lists 'ten of the best'. So, what we want to know is, has T.S got it right? Do you agree or disagree? Counting Down The Zeroes wants to hear from you, so why not give us your top ten and let the sparks fly.

Although I prefer to shy away from discussions about whether a particular year is a good one or a bad one for movies, I'll say straight up that I've always found 2001 to be a weird year for movies. I can remember being wowed by very little before September of that year, and then afterward there was that pervasive feeling of numbness for the remaining months. It's the only year of the decade that I've required copious amounts of time of revisiting and re-examining films with somewhat fresh eyes and to figure out what, if any, thematic relationship forms from my ten favorites. As far as I can tell, it's not much — perhaps some quirky selections here and there, and a general elusion (brought on by underwhelmed personal response) of a dissatisfying selection of mainstream American cinema.

And yet that's one of the curious aspects of 2001: critics on the whole tend to be an homogenous group, and looking back on the year produced a fractured evaluation. For A Beautiful Mind to win Best Picture at that year's Oscars seemed to say less about the quality of the film as it did about what felt like the normal thing to do: a popular actor, a previously uncrowned director, a tragic but redeeming biopic. I can imagine many Academy voter shrugging as if to say, Sounds good enough to me.

That fractured sense of critical assessment has produced a disproportionately large number of cult films from the year as well. Amores Perros, Donnie Darko, Memento, The Royal Tenenbaums, Waking Life (all on my list), and A.I. Artificial Intelligence, Mulholland Drive, Amélie, Ghost World, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, and Sexy Beast have all produced an hermetically ravenous fan base; from what I understand from my own students, many of them still float around from dorm-room to dorm-room on college campuses. The act of elevating many of those films to a top-ten list at the end of 2001 seemed like digging into the underground and abandoning the mainstream; but yesterday's neglected films have become today's pop hits.

Like I said, a weird year indeed. It might be enough to prove that point by noting my favorite film of the year, In the Mood for Love, is considered by many to be a 2000 release. (At least as far as its official year is concerned; my system of eligible films is outlined below.) If you took that film out of my equation, I'd have a difficult time selecting a real #1.

So here are my selections for favorite films of 2001, ranked alphabetically. For all annual lists post-1998 (the year I began publishing reviews), my standard of eligibility has always been based on first-run theatrical release in the United States during the year. If you don't see something you might have expected, check back for 2002.

My favorites:

• Ali (d. Michael Mann, United States)

Michael Mann's Ali was knocked around a bit unfairly for telling the story of Muhammad Ali (nee Cassius Clay) in virtual long-shot instead of close-up, but I find something very thrilling and honest about the way the story of the legendary boxer weaves and floats around the social upheaval of the 1960s and 1970s. Mann is a virtuosic director, most abundantly on display in the film's first heart-pounding thirty minutes and in the detail-oriented and beautifully rendered recreations of Ali's fights (without a doubt influenced by the genre-defining work of Michael Chapman and Martin Scorsese in Raging Bull). Will Smith is a powerhouse as Ali, and Jon Voight practically channels the soul of Howard Cossell. In a decade saturated by biopics, only the strong survive — and Ali's got it.

• Amores Perros (d. Alejandro González Iñárritu, Mexico)

Chaotic yet graceful, breakneck yet arresting, the first feature film from Alejandro González Iñárritu is a hyperlink tale of three stories with their own angles on desperation, isolation, humanity, and the boundaries of love in Mexico City. There isn't a lot of new ground broken, at least as far as the formal elements are concerned, but there's a degree of control on the narrative and the production on the part of González Iñárritu that's noteworthy in its rarity and its simultaneous verve.

• Donnie Darko (d. Richard Kelly, United States)

Drawing inspiration from sources as varied as Robert Zemeckis to David Lynch, first-time director Richard Kelly concocted this bizarre, and for its time oddly relevant, psychological drama set against suburban satire and the coming-of-age of an angst-filled and medicated high school student (Jake Gyllenhaal). The film has become a sensation on DVD, even leading to a director's cut with about twenty extra minutes; but in its theatrical release, only weeks after 9/11, it stewed in the limbic margins of my mind, more so than Lynch's own Mulholland Drive. Kelly's script isn't airtight, and at times he seems to rely on flat characters that are present simply to make a metaphoric point, but there's no doubt in my mind he's produced an original work that's as rewarding as it is irresistible.

• In the Bedroom (d. Todd Field, United States)

Adapted from a short story by the brilliant writer Andre Dubus, In the Bedroom is the third and final film by a first-time director to come onto my top ten list for the year. Todd Field, an actor and photographer, helmed this story of domestic tragedy that socks you in the gut and, thanks to the fierce performances from all the major players, forces the pain to linger. It would be too much to reveal the story to the unacquainted, and much better for those who have not seen this film to do so soon. Tom Wilkinson and Sissy Spacek inhabit grief in all its multitudes and complexities; both were nominated for Oscars, as was Field for the screen adaptation and the film itself for Best Picture. (A fifth nomination went to Marisa Tomei, for supporting actress.) Based on the nominees that year, if I'd had a vote, Wilkinson and Spacek would have each walked away with gold, and Field would have won his two categories.

• In the Mood for Love (d. Wong Kar-wai, Hong Kong)

The best film of the year, and a top-five contender at this moment for best film of the decade, is Wong Kar-wai's In the Mood for Love. What a knockout film this is: quiet, psychologically penetrating, heartbreaking, and so marvelously gorgeous. This is the nuanced and difficult story of two neighbors (Maggie Cheung and Tony Leung Chiu-wai) in 1962 Hong Kong who discover their respective spouses are having an affair with each other, and the troubling psychological waters the neighbors encounter when they begin counseling each other to understand why and how this has happened — and eventually, perhaps most disturbingly, how it happens, down to the subtlest movements. The film's most impressive element, if such a singular aspect be identified as its best part, is the mesmerizing way Wong takes such a simple concept adapted from a short story and folds it back in on itself with repetition of style and theme (the cinematography and editing are formidable). Wong has spoken at length about the influence Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo had on the production, particularly the development of such a moody relationship, and it's without exaggeration that I say he does Hitchcock proud.

• Memento (d. Christopher Nolan, United States)

Memento is a gimmick, but in the able hands of director-writer Christopher Nolan, an entirely successful one. A detective story that unfolds forward and backward simultaneously due to its protagonist's haunting form of memory loss, we follow Leonard (Guy Pierce) reassembling the pieces of his life and seeking vengeance for a crime against a loved one. This is "meta-noir," as J. Hoberman called it, and as such it doesn't quite have the same shelf-life of other films; after one viewing, this thriller never plays the same way again (not so ironically, you might guess), but what it gives on that first viewing is masterful.

• Monsters, Inc. (d. Peter Docter, United States)

No studio has had a better decade than Pixar, and their first official entry into the 2000s, Monsters, Inc., sometimes gets lost among the few better films they've made. There's a lot to admire in this, the studio's fourth feature-film, from the satiric riff on the bottom-dollar 9-to-5 workweek to the inventive re-imagining of there's-a-monster-in-the-closet to the impeccable choice of voice-work (Billy Crystal and John Goodman as heroes, Steve Buscemi and James Coburn as villains). From a purely technical standpoint, I think Monsters, Inc., is an important film because I believe it's the first Pixar film that made a lot of people sit back and say whoa. The attention of detail in the computer animation was, for the first time, truly stupendous, from the textured pieces of wood in the closet doors to the million waving hairs in Sulley's coat as he's banished into the Himalayas. Not to mention, the little girl is about the most adorable child ever animated.

• Ocean's Eleven (d. Steven Soderbergh, United States)

To call Ocean's Eleven a guilty pleasure would give you the wrong idea. If I were ranking these, this would definitely be toward the bottom, no doubt, but I also don't believe there's anything inherently guilty about adoring a stylishly slick and sublime heist movie from the capable hands of Steven Soderbergh and presented by a cast that, gasp, genuinely appears to be having a good time. By scrapping basically everything about the campy '60s Rat Pack film and infusing it with nothing but fun craftsmanship, it's impossible for me to deny the joy forms a symbiotic relationship with at least this particular audience member.

• The Royal Tenenbaums (d. Wes Anderson, United States)

In The Royal Tenenbaums, Wes Anderson continues his stylistic signature first brought to acclaim in 1998's Rushmore; in that way, you can't really call what he's doing here fresh, but I think there's an argument to be made that Anderson's cinematic language feels more developed and mature in this twisted and funny film, one of the year's best comedies due to director's vision and the script co-written by him and Owen Wilson. As far as the director's filmography is concerned, at this point The Royal Tenenbaums is the Andersonian ideal: outsiders, prodigies, failures, and the intellectually tortured all under one roof, led by Gene Hackman in a splendid performance as the self-centered and ostracized Tenenbaum patriarch.

• Waking Life (d. Richard Linklater, United States)

The form here is interpolated rotoscoping — or, layering animation atop previously filmed material. The effect is often hallucinogenic and definitely dreamlike, two qualities that match the thematic material of Richard Linklater's cerebral Waking Life in sheer harmony. Essentially this rather remarkable and beautiful film is a series of conversations — poetic, philosophical, post-modern — that ask the sorts of questions with answers like nailed down Jell-O. Its saving grace is the way the film looks and feels against our eyes and brains; a backslide into pretension seems only millimeters away, but mercifully we never go there. Linklater is too talented for that, so he delivers an unbound, offbeat affirmation as only he can.

Honorable Mention:

A Beautiful Mind (d. Ron Howard); Black Hawk Down (d. Ridley Scott); The Circle (d. Jafar Panahi); The Gleaners and I (d. Agnès Varda); Gosford Park (d. Robert Altman); The Man Who Wasn't There (d. Joel & Ethan Coen); Mulholland Drive (d. David Lynch); Shrek (d. Andrew Adamson & Vicky Jenson); Under the Sand (d. François Ozon); Werckmeister Harmonies (d. Bela Tarr)

Care to agree, disagree? Have your own top ten for the year 2001? Counting Down the Zeroes wants to hear your opinion on the year 2001.

The Year 2001: Gosford Park (Robert Altman)

Marking a return to form for the maverick filmmaker Robert Altman, the whodunnit homage, comedy of manners, Gosford Park took seven Oscar nominations in the year 2001, as well as nabbing a Golden Globe for the director himself. Set in 1930's England, with another, vast, emsembled cast at his disposal, he plays free and loose with this murder-mystery, dispelling the limitations of the genre and highlighting his own unique vision and master storytelling in the process. Stacia of She Blogged By Night; a fabulous blog that has rightly gained a nomination for best blog at this year's LAMMY's, questions the origins of this film and wonders 'why was it made' as she ponders whether it really is a great film or merely too limited to be 'the revelation that it should have been'.

Gosford Park isn't an immediately impressive film. When released, publicity called it an English murder mystery turned it upside down, made into something it never had been before. I knew the English manor house mystery genre well and was excited at the prospect of a new take on an old friend. After so much anticipation, I watched the film, and found myself frustrated and sad when the entire experience was flat and dull.

In the intervening years I'd decided it was a film I needed to view again. I was so sure I'd missed the big Something that "Gosford Park" had wowed everyone else with. But now I know that, for good or ill, that big Something was only a phantom.

There is no reason to go into depth regarding the plot of "Gosford Park". It's simply not important. All you need to know is that it's 1932, a group of rich people get together at an estate home for a weekend, they bring their servants, a murder happens, and we discover almost everyone has a secret. By the end of the film we understand the substance and the nature of many of the people who holidayed at Gosford Park that weekend.


"Gosford Park" is a solid film, immensely entertaining and gorgeous to look at. The location sets are stunning and the costuming is nearly perfect. The cast, of course, is one for the ages. Alan Bates was sheer perfection in a role that subtly held the entire film together. Emily Watson was also amazing, hitting the notes of this period piece perfectly. While the film was obviously intended to be an ensemble piece, Bates and Watson were the cornerstones and the film could not have succeeded without them.

Yet there were several false notes in the film. Ryan Phillippe's character was poorly realized, and frankly Phillippe didn't have the presence or talent to elevate or layer the role. The character of Isobel struck entirely the wrong tone; the unkempt hair and sullen expression were simplistic cliches straight out of high school theatre, unfortunate in a performance that required complexity. Every character in this film was regarded at a distance, which is a defining point of Altman's ensemble casts, but the characters of Mr Blonde and Mr Standish were so vague that it muddied the plot to an unnecessary degree. It didn't help that Mr Standish, from a distance, looked just like Mr Nesbitt. Great for the plot, terrible for the viewer.

Maybe it's these minor missteps that make me feel the film is flat, that there is some piece of the Altman puzzle that never lands in its proper place. It's borned from the insistence of Altman, writer Julian Fellows, and contemporary reviewers that "Gosford Park" did something to the standard English manor house murder mystery that had never been done before. Yet everyone says "Gosford Park" is "Upstairs, Downstairs" meets Agatha Christie, and it is. How do you reconcile these two facts? How can the film be a retread of decades-old formats and at the same time be unique?


The manor house murder mystery is a genre that has been alive and well for decades; it's a subgenre of the standard mystery, which emerged roughly 150 years ago. It's obvious that Altman knew all about the murder mystery genre. He cast a crew of actors -- most notably Michael Gambon, Helen Mirren, Derek Jacobi, Maggie Smith, Geraldine Somerville and Clive Owen -- who starred or featured in famous television murder mysteries. References to mysteries abound: Stephen Fry's Inspector Thompson is every befuddled, trenchcoated inspector rolled into one (and topped off with M. Hulot's pipe). Henry Denton is as Maigret as one can be without sharing the same name. The movie Weissman is making is a Charlie Chan film, and there are so many Agatha Christie references that the movie might as well have been written by her.

Further, the "Upstairs, Downstairs" aspect is acknowledged with the characters named Stockbridge, and with the casting of Eileen Atkins (Mrs. Croft), who co-created "Upstairs, Downstairs". Elements of other films, such as the aforementioned M Hulot and influences from Renoir's "The Rules of the Game", are used intentionally.

However, there are many things Altman himself said were done to specifically create a unique take on a murder mystery. For example, he layered the story with dozens of characters who are seen only for a moment here and there, with simultaneous dialogue and vague relationships with each other. That's his signature style, of course, and the film is hailed as being remarkable simply because it is a murder mystery in the inimitable Altman style. Altman also said that he wanted to show this story from the servant's point of view because it had not been done before. He also famously admitted that he added eight "fucks" to the dialogue to make sure it got an R rating and kids wouldn't come into the theatre to see it. Lastly, the real movie "Charlie Chan in London" was added as a plot point, and the real movie star Ivor Novello was added as a character.


All of these things circled in my head while I pondered at the why of "Gosford Park". Why was it made? And why did I need to know? No other movie has made me so curious as to how it sprang into existence. I couldn't reconcile Altman's obvious deep knowledge of the genre with the fact that the film was intended to be an exceptional, novel approach. I wanted to know why so many details about a real film and a real movie star were included, especially since some of the incidental bits mentioned about the film were patently untrue. A film buff would catch the references, but would also know some of those references were wrong. And how could Altman say that focusing on the servants had never been done before when he, at the same time, said he was influenced by "The Rules of the Game"?

I believe that Altman fell into the trap, the same trap every mystery movie director and writer has fallen into over the past 150 years, the one where they think they've created a story that no one has ever done before. Reinventing the mousetrap, setting the locked-door puzzle on its ear. I've seen it a million times before. When it comes to murder mysteries, the wheel is never reinvented, it's always just as round as when we started.

But I also think he was aware enough to know that a murder mystery buff is going to solve the crime immediately, that a film buff is going to catch his references, that a star-studded cast had been done before. Because of this, he tried to make the journey through the film the focus, not the solution to the crime. That's what all murder mysteries do nowadays. We don't watch Poirot because we want to find out who the murderer is, we want to see Hercule and Hastings banter with each other, we want to see the fabulous art deco buildings used for locations.

Ultimately, though, there were enough flaws to prevent "Gosford Park" from being the revelation it should have been. While Altman's famous simultaneous dialogue was impeccable, it simply didn't fit the story. The atmosphere of the film just didn't mix with the clever little nods to mystery cliches. The constantly-moving camerawork kept one on edge, but there was no release at the finale, and the viewer is left wondering why this tension was created in the first place.


"Gosford Park" may not be the staggeringly singular genre-bender it was hailed as, but it is a love letter to murder mysteries. A sumptuous setting and wardrobe, a cast that one has never seen before or since, a fun story line, and the joy everyone felt while working on the film was palpable. And that's more than enough.

The Year 2001: Moulin Rouge! (Baz Luhrmann)

The final part to his 'red curtain' trilogy, following on from the international success of Strictly Ballroom (1992) and Romeo + Juliet (1996), Baz Luhrmann, not one to take subtle road when big, bold and brassy will do, takes it one step further with the stunning visual feast, fanatically edited and beautifully photographed, a throughly modern take on the musical, Moulin Rouge! Once again we're joined by Reel Whore, of Reel Whore, 'cinema's bitch', a great writer to boot, with posts full of acid barbs, in your face humour all marked with a unique and insightful look at the world of cinema, makes a case for this 'exhilarating' film and wonders why it was overlooked at the Academy Awards.

A recent advert for the DVD release of Slumdog Millionaire touts it as the best film of the decade. I couldn't help but laugh when I read this. Have people forgotten about Moulin Rouge!?

Slumdog Millionaire and Moulin Rouge! have similar roots; both projects' directors were inspired by Bollywood films. However, while Millionaire was the Academy darling this past year, winning eight of its ten nominations, Moulin Rouge! was widely snubbed, winning only Best Costume Design and Best Art Direction from its eight nominations. Baz Luhrmann (Romeo + Juliet) wasn't even nominated for Best Director! Could it be Rouge! is the inferior, less entertaining of the two?

I think not. The exclamation point in the title says it all; expect excitement. On the day I saw Moulin Rouge! in theaters, many audience members were not prepared. I know this because I watched at least four people leave before the Diamond Dogs began to can-can. When friends asked my opinion of Moulin Rouge!, I made it clear that it was awesome, but you had to give it at least fifteen minutes to adjust to the frantic pacing and wild cinematography.


Before I get too far ahead of myself, Moulin Rouge! is the tale of Christian (Ewan McGregor, Big Fish), a young British writer who moves to Paris at the turn of the nineteenth century to embrace the Bohemian lifestyle. Shortly after arriving, Christian meets the dwarf Toulouse-Lautrec (John Leguizamo, Spawn) who is developing a new play with his Bohemian friends for the Moulin Rouge's owner Harold Zidler (Jim Broadbent, Gangs of New York). Christian and his mad writing skills are quickly accepted into the group and he is presented to the Rouge's star, Satine (Nicole Kidman, To Die For), to secure her favor for their play. Only problem is Satine mistakes Christian for the Rouge's potential financier, the Duke (Richard Roxburgh, Van Helsing). Ultimately Satine must seduce the Duke, while keeping her burgeoning romance with Christian a secret.

Once Christian and Lautrec meet, there is barely a moment's pause in the singing. Beginning with music from the Sound of Music flowing to the popular cover of Lady Marmalade and culminating in my favorite scene, a medley of love songs atop an Elephant's head, it's nearly forty-five minutes before the film returns to a standard story format. In Moulin Rouge! you find popular songs from artists such as David Bowie, Madonna and Nirvana in mash-ups against seemingly contrary songs, sampled as part of a larger medley, or used in their entirety to particularly comic effect. You might think the result would be irritating, but it's quite captivating. The music of Moulin Rouge! grabbed me in such a way that I snatched up the soundtrack the first chance I got and still give it a listen every couple of months. Until researching this post, I never knew they released a Volume Two. Needless to say, I will cop that tout de suite.


The rousing music is barely even the half of it. Colors jump off the screen. Deep reds, cool blues, neon greens and pale whites are so crisp they crackle. When the doors to the Moulin Rouge first open, a swirling, dizzying flurry of vibrant costumes and leering faces assaults the eyes; Luhrmann uses the visual overstimulation to mimic Christian's perspective on his virgin voyage to the cabaret.

If the music and imagery don't excite you, gazing upon Ewan McGregor will topple your defenses. His boyish smile and adamant belief in the love that he and Satine share is irresistible. You can feel McGregor giving it his all in every scene. Kidman is equally impressive. In fact, from Broadbent's boisterous showmanship to Leguizamo's absinthe-tinged lisp and Roxburgh's nasally tantrums, all the actors deliver scene after hilarious scene. Like Luhrmann's visuals, they can turn on a dime to deliver the most heart-wrenching and dismal moments, changing the playful nature of Rouge! into a rueful affair.


Outstanding music and exhilarating visuals presented by some of the most talented actors--you couldn't ask for anything more. Bollywood films are designed to give audiences their money's worth and Luhrmann does exactly that with Moulin Rouge!.

The Year 2001: Mulholland Dr. (David Lynch)

Ranked amongst his finest work, David Lynch's critically acclaimed neo-noir/mystery/psychological thriller/surrealist - whatever you want to label it, you would be hard pressed to find an equal in the year 2001 - had audiences totally puzzled but exhilarated with its nightmarish take on the Hollywood-on-Hollywood movie. Tony Dayoub of Cinema Viewfinder; his excellent film blog that manages to mix reviews and posts on world cinema, established classics, independent film and popular culture with relative ease, check out his latest, excellent Star Trek podcasts for a great example of his versatility, tracks the history of this marvellous film, which started life as a 'TV pilot for ABC' before transcending into 'one of the best films of the decade'.

David Lynch's Mulholland Drive began life as a TV pilot for ABC, the same network which aired Twin Peaks - Lynch's greatest mainstream success. It would be interesting to see how each show would fare in today's television landscape, one where serialized shows like Lost have succeeded, in part because ratings expectations are much lower and cable's serials lead the pack in competing for viewers' attention. In any case, the TV network was not ready for a mysterious drama set in Los Angeles where the central MacGuffin was two women's search for one's forgotten identity. So Lynch did something similar to what he did for the European theatrical release of the Twin Peaks pilot. He fashioned a lengthy ending, tying up the open-ended plotline, and got the rights to release the film theatrically.


Naomi Watts plays Betty, a stereotypical Midwestern woman who moves to Hollywood to become an actress. Naive and overeager, she is determined to prove herself in the corrupt industry town. Meanwhile, a woman receives a head injury in a car accident on Mulholland Drive. Dazed, she finds her way into the apartment that Betty is moving into.


Betty runs across the enigmatic accident victim in her very own shower, a woman struggling to remember her identity who starts calling herself Rita (Laura Elena Harring) after spotting a poster of Gilda in Betty's apartment.


Subplots and seemingly unrelated characters intrude on the central plot. No doubt these were to be coherent subplots on the prospective TV series. One such storyline involves rising movie director, Adam Kesher (Justin Theroux), whose luck turns for the worse after being threatened by two heavies seeking to cast one Camilla Rhodes (Melissa George) as the star of his next picture. These plots would have continued and tied in to the main story had Mulholland Drive gone to series. Instead, Lynch uses them to fold the movie in on itself, tying Camilla and Adam to Rita in the film's climax, bringing up questions of identity and reality versus surreality, themes that recur often within Lynch's work, but are distilled here to their purest form.


One can almost see the invisible line that Lynch draws at the point where Mulholland Drive departs from its relatively conventional TV origins to the surreal realm in which he frequently wanders. It is about an hour and a half in when the movie metamorphoses from a neo-noir Nancy Drew to a haunting exploration of the obsessive ardor Diane Selwyn (Naomi Watts again) feels for Camilla Rhodes (Laura Elena Harring again).


Diane awakes into a nightmare of a life, as if the first part of the film was a desperate dream formed by her fragile mind to put things right in her sad existence. Whereas Betty and Rita make love after bonding over the mystery of Rita's identity, Camilla rebuffs Diane, choosing director Adam instead. The promise Betty displayed as an actress in the first part has evaporated, with Adam giving the lead role in his film to Camilla rather than Diane.


Identities transmute into new ones. The real merges with the surreal in the most necessary way yet for a Lynch film. The director even finds moments to comment on the part he plays as a master of ceremonies in these proceedings, as evoked by the stage magician that helps usher in the tonal shift at the point of departure in the film.


Consciously or not, Lynch refers to other works of his including those that have yet to be: once, when he enlists Rebekah Del Rio to sing her version of Orbison's "Crying" (Blue Velvet's iconic scene where Dean Stockwell mimes to Orbison's "In Dreams"); once again, when the electrical surges of the magic show help to transmogrify Betty into Diane (Lost Highway, Twin Peaks); and finally, when the actress' descent into madness foreshadows the insanity of Nikki Grace (Laura Dern) in Inland Empire (2006).


Mulholland Drive is the apotheosis of Lynch's filmography, transcending its humble TV beginnings to become one of the best films of the decade.

The Year 2001: The Royal Tenenbaums (Wes Anderson)

At once richly ironic, blackly comic and daubed in pathos, The Royal Tenenbaums, Wes Anderson's star-studded packed indie hit, charts the life and times of a once gifted trio of siblings, deserted by their wayward father who returns to the family nucleus to make amends for transgressions past. A wry, knowing and beautifully shot film, Pat Piper of the formidable Lazy Eye Theatre; his irreverent, on the nose film blog, full of left-field insights on the workings of film and wickedly funny posts, takes a, typically, side glance at the wonder of this film by concentrating on 'the anti-hero of the year 2001', Royal Tenenbaum, in this brilliant piece for Counting Down The Zeroes.

When I originally saw The Royal Tenenbaums in the theater, I wouldn't say I was impressed by it. That's to say it didn't play to my expectations. I loved Rushmore for its eccentricities and for the strange camaraderie between Blume and Fischer. But truth to tell, Rushmore is easy to like. Its quirk plays to a larger audience. So I suppose I was expecting more of the same with The Royal Tenenbaums. At the time, I should have praised Wes Anderson for not digging into the same bag, but instead I criticized him for it.

Upon further viewings, I have come to love this film. I have said it before, and I will say it again - The Royal Tenenbaums is as close to a piece of art on film as I have ever seen. Every scene is perfectly framed. Every movement, perfectly choreographed. Every line, perfectly delivered. There are so many things to write about this film. I could do a weeks worth of material, but I'll spare you all from that. Ric at Film For The Soul has told me that for Counting Down The Zeros, I have carte blanche which may or may not be a good thing. So instead of writing a traditional review, I'm instead going to write about my favorite character of the film, Royal Tenenbuam.


Royal Tenenbaum is a piece of work. At one moment repulsive, the next touchingly sweet. Royal calls them as he sees them, and does so with the tact of a five year old. One can stand around and debate whether Royal is an asshole or simply just a son-of-a-bitch for hours. The evidence is certainly there. But then you'd miss the fact that he is the glue of the Tenenbaums. As dysfunctional as all of them are, they are less so when Royal is around.

After being separated from his wife and family for several years, Royal attempts to get back into the family fold by faking stomach cancer. It's a shrewd ploy, but it plays off the universal truth that crisis brings us together. Crisis makes us forgive and forget. But there's a lot of forgiving and forgetting to be done and Royal hasn't given himself much time.


One can always question Royals intentions. Does he still love Etheline? Does he even love his children? The story plays as if Royal is attempting to redeem himself. To ask forgiveness. His disease is fake, but Royal truly acts as if he has one last shot to make things right. Only times are different. The children are grown up and they are facing real-life problems. Richie's suicide. Chas' inability to deal with the death of his wife. Margot's attachment issues. Even Eli's drug addiction. But like all anti-heroes, Royal falls into each situation and rises to the occasion.

What makes Royal so amicable is that he's played by Gene Hackman. It's hard to imagine anyone else playing this character, which goes to show how perfect Hackman made it. Played by a lesser, this could have been a disaster. All asshole and no heart. There is a struggle within Royal of wanting to do bad, but trying to do good and Hackman always keeps a good balance without tipping one way or the other. Hackman does just enough to show that Royal is redeemable without going overboard. There's an exchange between Royal and Richie towards the end of the movie. When Royal tells him that this near death experience has given him a new lease on life, Richie reminds him that he's not dying. Royal's response to this is "but I'm going to live." It's a great line not only for its humor, but for the volumes it says about the character. And Hackman delivers it with a kind of glee that makes you love the character, even when he's bullshitting you. And there's another line around the same time. Royal says "the past six days have been the best six days of probably my whole life." The narrator then follows with "immediately after making this statement, Royal realized that it was true." Even without the narration, you believe Royal because Hackman's performance makes it true.


As much of a character as Royal might be, he's still a real person, facing real problems. Take away all his quirks, and he's just a guy looking for redemption. It's a universal message and what I think is interesting is the way Wes Anderson has spun it. There are those who believe that some things can never be mended. That if you let the problems go too long, the pain becomes too deep. Yet, the story of Royal and the Tenenbaums tells us that it's never too late. That love comes in many forms and that love is unconditional. And because of that even the worst characters are redeemable. Even Royal.

The Year 2001: Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Peter Jackson)

There's no doubting the movie event of the year 2001, taking an extraordinary amount of time, talent and money to bring it to the screen, Peter Jackson's first chapter of the world renowned fantasy epic Lord of the Rings - all three parts were incidentally filmed back to back - The Fellowship of the Ring became a huge box-office success and upped the ante when it came to event cinema. Once again we're joined by the awesome J.D of Radiator Heaven, who we must congratulate for receiving a Lammy nomination for best reviewer, and no wonder considering this great submission to Counting Down The Zeroes, in which J.D marks this film as one of those rare things, a film 'that lives up to its mountains of hype'.

It was the film many thought would never happen and that languished in development hell for years, bouncing from studio to studio until New Line Cinema took a very big gamble with filmmaker Peter Jackson who, at that point in his career, was known for making slapsticky low budget horror films (Braindead) and had one art house hit (Heavenly Creatures). He wasn’t someone you would necessarily entrust millions upon millions of dollars on making a trilogy of fantasy films – not the most commercially successful genre (Willow, anyone?). Jackson was also tackling the much-beloved series of books by J.R.R. Tolkien, get it wrong and you’re going to have legions of very unhappy fans.

However, Jackson was a fan too and he had a vision, which, with the help of his co-screenwriters Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens, and army of collaborators, brought The Lord of the Rings vividly to life. The first film, The Fellowship of the Ring (2001), was a massive critical and commercial success and would be followed by two even more successful sequels, The Two Towers (2002) and The Return of the King (2003). Everyone has their favorite film of the trilogy and for me it’s the first one because it has an intimate feel rendered on an epic scale, if that makes any sense. In other words, The Fellowship of the Ring is about a small group of characters, the Fellowship, and the journey they undertake.


Jackson establishes this intimacy early on with Bilbo Baggins’ (Ian Holm) birthday celebration. The Special Extended Edition DVD version takes its time introducing the hobbits and their world. Jackson uses warm, inviting colors and folksy music to convey that the hobbits are friendly, down-to-earth people who live in a tight-knit community where everyone knows each other. Most importantly, we are introduced to Frodo (Elijah Wood), the hero of this epic tale. For it is he who Bilbo entrusts with the last remaining Ring that he must to take Mordor to destroy so that it doesn’t fall into the hands of the evil Sauron.

The Shire sequences also establish the dangerously seductive lure of the Ring, the origins of the quest and the creation of the Fellowship as led by the mighty wizard Gandalf the Grey (Ian McKellen). Aside from Frodo, fellow hobbits Sam (Sean Astin), Merry (Dominic Monaghan) and Pippin (Billy Boyd) join him on his journey. The group starts simply enough and over the course of the film others join their ranks, including Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen), a human ranger, Legolas (Orlando Bloom), an elvan archer, Gimli (John Rhys-Davies), a grumpy dwarf, and Boromir (Sean Bean), a human fighter. At heart of the Fellowship (and really all three films) is the friendship between Frodo and Sam. It is Sam who looks out for Frodo and sticks with him for the entire quest.


There are all kinds of parallels, story structure-wise, between The Fellowship of the Ring and Star Wars: A New Hope (1977). The Tolkien books were an obvious influence on George Lucas’ films. The main characters from both films are plucked from obscurity, a remote rural environment to go on a dangerous quest and are mentored by an elderly wizard type. Hell, Han Solo and Aragorn are characters cut from the same cloth and are both given cool introductions to establish their respective badass reputations.

Jackson manages to get some career-best performances out of many cast members. Elijah Wood, Sean Astin and Orlando Bloom, in particular, have never done anything better since (or before for that matter, except maybe for Wood and his chilling turn in Sin City) and this film launched a series of very eclectic leading man roles for the always watchable Viggo Mortensen (it doesn’t get more diverse than disparate roles in Hidalgo and Eastern Promises). Both Ian McKellen and Christopher Lee give the film some serious class and loads of genre credibility. It is Wood and Astin that anchor this film and give its heart. The relationship between their two characters epitomizes most noble aspects of friendship and of the Fellowship. This only deepens in subsequent installments.


Once our heroes begin their journey, Jackson establishes a riveting urgency as they are pursued by the nightmarish ringwraiths and a vicious army of orcs. And yet this only strengthens the camaraderie among the hobbits and the rest of the Fellowship despite its dysfunction in the form of Boromir. However, when it matters and when faced with dangerous opponents, they work as a team as evident in the exciting and visceral battle against a monster in Balin’s Tomb and the even grittier battle against the orcs at the film’s climax.

Contrary to popular belief, Peter Jackson did not have a lifelong ambition to adapt Tolkien’s books into films. Producer Saul Zaentz owned the film rights for years and gave them to Jackson when he and Fran Walsh met with him and expressed their passion for the project. Zaentz sold the rights to Miramax who wanted to make only one film with Jackson. Disney was the financial backer but they didn’t believe in the project, refusing to give Miramax the money to make it. Harvey Weinstein, head of Miramax, gave Jackson three weeks to find someone else to make the film and in 1998, New Line agreed to make it into three films. Jackson originally proposed two films but it was New Line’s idea to make three.


In order to cut down on costs, Jackson decided to film all three films back-to-back over a grueling 274-day shooting schedule on location in remote areas of New Zealand in more than 100 locations with 20 major speaking roles and 20,000 extras. At the height or production, the film crew swelled to 1,300 people with seven units shooting multiple elements simultaneously. Jackson and company were at the mercy of New Zealand’s notoriously mercurial weather – unseasonal snowstorms and overnight flooding but in the end, the filmmakers accomplished what they set out to do and the proof is in the impressive final results.

The Fellowship of the Ring broke the opening day record for a December film on Wednesday, earning $18.2 million. It went on to make $314.7 million in North America and $555.9 million in the rest of the world for a worldwide total of $870.7 million.


The Fellowship of the Ring received overwhelmingly positive notices from most of the major film critics. Roger Ebert gave the film three out of four stars and wrote, "Peter Jackson ... has made a work for, and of, our times. It will be embraced, I suspect, by many Tolkien fans and take on aspects of a cult. It is a candidate for many Oscars. It is an awesome production in its daring and breadth, and there are small touches that are just right.” USA Today also gave the film three out of four stars and wrote, "this movie version of a beloved book should please devotees as well as the uninitiated." In his review for The New York Times, Elvis Mitchell wrote, "The playful spookiness of Mr. Jackson's direction provides a lively, light touch, a gesture that doesn't normally come to mind when Tolkien's name is mentioned." Entertainment Weekly magazine gave the film an "A" rating and Lisa Schwarzbaum wrote, "The cast take to their roles with becoming modesty, certainly, but Jackson also makes it easy for them: His Fellowship flows, never lingering for the sake of admiring its own beauty ... Every detail of which engrossed me. I may have never turned a page of Tolkien, but I know enchantment when I see it." In her review for the Washington Post, Rita Kempley praised the cast, in particular, "Mortensen, as Strider, is a revelation, not to mention downright gorgeous. And McKellen, carrying the burden of thousands of years' worth of the fight against evil, is positively Merlinesque." Finally, Time magazine's Richard Corliss praised Jackson's work: "His movie achieves what the best fairy tales do: the creation of an alternate world, plausible and persuasive, where the young — and not only the young — can lose themselves. And perhaps, in identifying with the little Hobbit that could, find their better selves.”

The Fellowship of the Ring is one of those rare films that live up to its mountains of hype. Jackson tells an engaging story and crams as much of the source material as possible into the film. Sure, certain characters and subplots have been cut-out but that is the nature of a feature film adaptation. Maybe some day someone can turn it into a mini-series so that everything can be included. Until then, we have Jackson’s magnificent films to enjoy.