And the top film of the decade is . . . (drum roll please) . . . Victor Erice's El Sol Del Membrillo ( The Quince Tree Sun). Well perhaps you know the title in its usual English translation, Dream of Light? No? This delicate 2½-hour movie about a man who spent a year painting a picture of a tree. . . Okay, so you missed that one.
Would you have guessed that the best directors of the decade are Iran's Abbas Kiarostami, with four out of the top six films, and Taiwan's Hou Hsiao-hsien! Did anybody whisper Spielberg? Please! Tarantino? (No. 19, with Pulp Fiction.) Scorsese? (He slips in at No. 10 with Goodfellas.) The first film on the list that could be considered even remotely mainstream is Terence Malick's The Thin Red Line.
The truth is that unless you teach cinema courses or work as a film-festival programmer, you're going to be surprised by this best-of-the-nineties list. Co-ordinated by Cinematheque Ontario's senior programmer, James Quandt, the list is the result of a survey of 60 international curators, programmers and archivists. The poll was, in part, Cinematheque's 10th birthday present to itself. (A division of the Toronto International Film Festival, Cinematheque is funded by the Ontario Film Development Corp., Telefilm Canada, the Toronto Arts Council and other public and private supporters.)
The natural response to such a list is to feel like an idiot for not being more familiar with the filmmakers and their works. The second reaction is to feel annoyed at the exclusions and the inclusions. Who do these people think they are?
Quandt is a precise and erudite man, justifiably admired and honoured in serious film circles around the globe. He is not inclined to hyperbole and yet he describes the response to the list this way: "Annoyed would be a mild reaction. I've been afraid to show my face. I keep saying to people, 'Look, don't shoot the messenger.' I don't want to sound defensive, but these were the results from a large group of learned people and we do emphasize the word 'alternative' in the title. These are often films that got lost, opened and closed within a week, and deserve to be seen again, organized by people with a particular point of view."
The criticisms Quandt has faced range from the particular (the omission of favoured directors), to the general (where are the women?). There were biases: Quandt encouraged contributors to think less of the juggernauts and more about films that should be seen; and many of those polled work as festival programmers and they are naturally inclined to seek out and draw attention to more obscure films. And then there's the critical stock market, which saw a lionized director such as Krzysztof Kieslowski ( Three Colours trilogy, The Double Life of Veronique) no longer as much in vogue as he was a few years ago.
On a positive note, it's possible to see the list as a humbling experience, an opportunity to learn. When a billion people on the planet watch a competition as patently spurious as the Oscars, why get upset about a poll that is at least interested in film excellence rather than dresses?
Cinematheque Ontario has put its money where its mouth is by organizing a selected program of the top contenders called The Best of the Nineties: An Alternative View. The series runs from next Friday to Feb. 29, with tickets going on sale today. What it shows is that the nineties, often dismissed as the nadir of the century in film, was considerably more interesting than most people, especially stingy critics, suspected. To watch the films (as I've had the privilege to do in the past few days) is to be both assured and delighted. As Quandt puts it, "The films admired by our panel are almost all distinguished by a rare combination of formal rigour and luminous humanism." Highly accessible and emotionally moving, these films use editing, shot choice and production values to tell stories in new ways.
In general, Iran's Kiarostami emerges as the director of the decade, with four films in the top 10. Hou Hsiao-hsien, who won the Village Voice poll of the decade, follows with three films in the top 25: Flowers of Shanghai, The Puppetmaster and Goodbye South Goodbye. While Canada's Atom Egoyan may never rival his countryman James Cameron at the box office, in the minds of the international critical establishment, he's a far more important director, with two films, Exotica and The Sweet Hereafter, listed as among the top 20 best of the decade.
The Hollywood-dominated global system for distribution and exhibition of films has been biased against art cinema and non-English-language films in the nineties. But even though an Italian, or French, or German new wave seems unlikely to happen again, excellent films -- single masterpieces more than movements -- continue to be made. Unfortunately, about half a dozen films on the list never opened in Canada at all. And of those that did, nearly all were first screened at the Cinematheque.
Quandt conducted a similar poll in the eighties -- while working at Harbourfront in Toronto -- drawing on a relatively small group of Canadian programmers and critics. He decided to expand the exercise this time, using only programmers and archivists, to give the results a more purist slant.
Meanwhile, Mark Peranson, editor of the new Toronto-based magazine Cinema Scope, is offering a different perspective with a poll that consulted critics. The current issue, which also devotes space to the Cinematheque survey, features more than 100 contributors, including such luminaries as Jonathan Rosenbaum (Chicago Reader), Kent Jones (Film Comment), Phillip Lopate (author and programmer) and Robin Wood, who write essays in support of their choices. The magazine costs $5, but it's free to anyone who buys more than eight tickets to Cinematheque's Best of the Nineties program. The Top 10 on Cinematheque Ontario's list (the order is determined by the number of votes for each filmmaker; in cases of a tie, both films are listed): 1. Dream of Light (El Sol Del Membrillo), Victor Erice (Spain), 57 votes. 2. And Life Goes On, Abbas Kiarostami (Iran), 49; and Through the Olive Trees, Abbas Kiarostami, 49. 3. Drifting Clouds, Aki Kaurismaki (Finland), 48. 4. Close-Up, Abbas Kiarostami, 46; and Breaking the Waves, Lars von Trier (Denmark), 46. 5. Satantango, Bela Tarr (Hungary), 41. 6. Flowers of Shanghai, Hou Hsiao-hsien (Taiwan), 39; and Taste of Cherry, Abbas Kiarostami, 39. 7. Chungking Express, Wong Kar-wai (Hong Kong), 38; Fireworks ( Hana-Bi), Takeshi Kitano (Japan), 38; and The Thin Red Line, Terence Malick (U.S.) 38. 8. Histoire(s) du Cinéma, Jean-Luc Godard (France), 36; and A Brighter Summer Day, Edward Yang (Taiwan), 36. 9. A Moment of Innocence, Mohsen Makhmalbaf (Iran), 34. 10. Goodfellas, Martin Scorsese (U.S.); and Cold Water ( L'eau froid), Olivier Assayas (France), 33. A version of the Best of the Nineties: An Alternative View will be shown at Pacific Cinematheque in Vancouver starting Jan. 28.
A SELECTIVE GUIDE
Here are some of the films in The Best of the Nineties: An Alternative View: A Moment of Innocence, Mohsen Makhmalbaf (Iran/France, 1996). A wry and moving mixture of fact and memory, as Makhmalbaf meets the policeman who sent him to jail 20 years earlier, and wants to star in the story. Close-up, Abbas Kiarostami (Iran, 1989). Kiarostami's own favourite involves the typical Iranian mixture of documentary and fantasy, in a story of a man who impersonated another Iranian director, Makhmalbaf. Rated one of the top 10 of the century by critic Jonathan Rosenbaum. Cold Water, Olivier Assayas (France, 1994). Made for French TV, this is a story of adolescence, madness and intergenerational conflict told from the subjective view of a teenaged boy. The conclusion leaves a devastating after-kick. Drifting Clouds, Aki Kaurismaki (Finland, 1996). A kind of art-house Honeymooners, this deadpan comedy is about a middle-aged couple who struggle to keep their lives and their marriage alive, despite the handicaps of unemployment and a pathological inability to express themselves. Fireworks, Takeshi Kitano (Japan, 1997). One is tempted to call this Dirty Hari-Kari; it's a violent examination of a disgraced cop's rebirth through action. Flowers of Shanghai, Hou Hsiao-hsien (Taiwan, 1998). A portrait of 19th-century "flower houses" or brothels, and the inner lives behind the rituals of entertaining men. Nouvelle Vague, Jean-Luc Godard (Switzerland/France, 1990). Both essay and narrative, Godard's film begins with an incident in which a woman entrepreneur runs into a man (Alain Delon) in her Maserati and then nurses him back to health, only to endure his angry political commentary. Rated, by Film Comment, as the best unreleased foreign film of the nineties. Satantango, Bela Tarr (Hungary/Germany/Switzerland, 1994). Legendary 7½-hour movie about the coming of the Messiah, and a large statement about post-Communist Europe. La Vie de Jesus, Bruno Dumont (France, 1997). The title is about the opposite: a life devoid of spiritual purpose and filled with absence of transcendence -- brutal, material existence in a backwater French village. Vive L'Amour, Tsai Ming-Liang (Taiwan, 1994). More Taiwan anguish, featuring three characters living painfully empty lives, spying, trysting and engaging in odd slapstick comedy. (For more information call 416-968-FILM or check the Cinematheque Web page, http://www.bell.ca/filmfest) -- Liam Lacey
Liam Lacey