I am Kyle's self-indulgence

15. Little Miss Sunshine
I know that the quirky dysfunctional family independent film genre is starting to get a little bit stale, but this utterly original movie avoids the usual pitfalls with believable and endearing characters, and a story that entertains from start to finish. It's just a very enjoyable film to watch and rewatch.

14. The Dark Knight
I've already said everything I can and should about this. If you really want to, you can read it here.

13. Donnie Darko
This is a true cult film whose success was propelled mostly by talk of it on the Internet. Thus, anything I have to say about it would probably be redundant. I will say that it deserves whatever praise it's received (despite the unfortunate Director's Cut that ruined some key ambiguity) simply for being a story that nobody has ever told before.

12. Where The Wild Things Are
I just saw this two weeks ago. Is it too soon to say that it's one of the best movies of the decade? I don't think so. I have about half a review of this that I started writing but haven't really gotten around to finish. The gist of it is that Where the Wild Things Are does a great job of capturing the reality of childhood, with all its pain and confusion and illogic (to borrow from Bill Watterson, anyone who is nostalgic about childhood doesn't remember what it was really like). I'm looking forward to watching this with the kids when they're a few years older.

11. Dancer in the Dark
It's strange: I think Dancer in the Dark is the only movie on this list that I have not watched multiple times, yet it's still very vivid in my memory. That says something, considering it's also the oldest movie on my list (I really do need to finally just buy a copy and watch it again). I once had a professor of theater appreciation say that it's impossible to make a musical that is a tragedy (something about the inherent spectacle and unreality of musicals). He said the only one that comes close is Sweeney Todd. I would argue that Dancer in the Dark pulls it off. It's a true musical with overture, song and dance numbers, and everything, but the musical parts of it all take place in the protagonist's imagination, as a way to escape the harsh, gray reality of her life, which makes the tragedy even more tragic.

10. Punch-Drunk Love
It's hard to say why I like this movie. I saw it again recently after not watching since it came out, and while I realized that I had forgotten a lot of the story, there were a lot of interesting visuals that had stayed with me: the piano in the street; the table full of pudding cups; Barry driving for hours to confront an enemy and arriving with his phone still in hand, cord dangling. I also vividly remembered the tension I felt watching a love story with this violent and emotionally unstable character, and genuinely not knowing if the story would end in happiness or catastrophe. I think the movie is also notable for featuring Adam Sandler in his first dramatic role, and, I would argue, his best performance to date.

9. The Man Who Wasn't There
Probably the Coen Brothers' most underrated film, The Man Who Wasn't There followed the hugely successful O Brother, Where Art Thou? but had a very limited release. The general plot is typical Coen Brothers: a barber tries to make some money by blackmailing the man who's having an affair with his wife, but things go wrong, blame is misplaced, etc. As usual, the beauty is in the way the story is told--in this case, as a 1950s noir film. It has beautiful black and white cinematography and a minimalist performance by Billy Bob Thronton, who spends most of the film staring silently and smoking cigarettes.

8. The Incredibles
My favorite recent comment about the Incredibles was from the person (whose name I can't remember) who said that The Incredibles is the best Fantastic Four movie ever made. Truly, it is everything those actual live-action FF movies should have been: a fun, adventurous, smart superhero film with a close-knit family at its center. It immediately became my favorite Pixar movie, and it still ranks high up, just under another Brad Bird production.

7. About Schmidt
I feel a special affinity for Alexander Payne because he's a fellow Nebraskan and the only director I know of who depicts my home state in a way that is realistic without being overly negative, and affectionate without being overly sentimental. I'm convinced that if you want to see what Omaha, Nebraska is really like all you need to do is watch About Schmidt. I'd like to think, though, that even if I weren't from Nebraska I would still adore this movie for the vividness of its characters, for all their comic contradictions. One minute Jack Nicholson's character is mourning over his recently dead wife, and the next he's trashing her belongings because he's found evidence of an affair she had. The man has a gentle sincerity that endears us to him, in spite of his many faults (and there are a lot of them).

6. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King
Looking back at the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy, what is most remarkable to me is that, for a major studio big-budget action epic, Peter Jackson managed to get everything right. He cast great actors, not necessarily big names (although many of them became big names by the end of the trilogy); he relied heavily on makeup, scale models, and practical visual effects; and he used CGI only when it was the best option. I think that 20 years from now The Lord of the Rings will still look great, while most recent CG-heavy films will look hopelessly dated.

While the first two Lord of the Rings movies were excellent, I think the third achieves an even higher level of artistry. I love the opening sequence that departs from the linear story to shed new insight into the origin and character of Gollum, the heartbreaking scene in which Pippin sings a mournful song to Denethor while Faramir and his men needlessly ride to their deaths, and the extended fade to black after Sauron is defeated and before the eagles come to rescue Sam and Frodo. I even love the endless endings, which I think are essential to bring a satisfactory close to this epic of epics.

5. No Country For Old Men
It took me a few days to come around to No Country For Old Men. I thought it was a great movie, but I wasn't sure if it measured up to the rest of the Coens' work. For several days, though, I couldn't get it out of my head, and all I wanted to do was watch it again. It's still hard for me to say exactly why it's great. It lacks many of the obvious stylistic trademarks of the Coens' films: rapid and clever dialogue, cartoonish characters, and elements or suggestions of magic realism. In its style, No Country For Old Men is one of the most traditional of the Coens' films, perhaps because it's their first movie to be adapted from another work of fiction (I don't include O Brother, Where Art Thou? Despite its claim of being adapted from The Odyssey, it's an entirely original story). What Joel and Ethan Coen do give us in No Country For Old Men are all the elements of a great film: a great story, engaging characters, unforgettable scenes, and brilliant camera work.

4. Ratatouille
With The Iron Giant and The Incredibles Brad Bird established that he is one of the best American directors working in animation; with Ratatouille I think he solidified that position for himself. It's not just the best movie Bird has made; I think it's the best movie Pixar has made. The story has a timeless feel to it that brings to mind 101 Dalmatians or Lady and the Tramp. It has a fun, original story and interesting characters. It has plot twists and excitement and some action sequences, but Bird never lets them go on any longer than they need to. He wisely resolves (well, mostly resolves) the conflict with the head chef early on and allows the final tension in the film to come from the food critic, Anton Ego, a brilliantly sinister character whose love for food has become twisted and cynical over time. Of course, the single greatest moment of the film is when Ego takes a single bite of Remy's cooking and his cold exterior instantly drops away to reveal a man who is again genuinely passionate about good food. His final line of the film, a joyous "Surprise me!" leaves me beaming every time.

3. Requiem for a Dream
Most of the titles on this list are films I could watch (and have watched) again and again without getting tired of them. Requiem for a Dream is not one of those films. This is one of those essential films that demands to be watched and considered and pondered over, but that most people will never want to watch a second time. For its horrific depiction of how addiction destroys people's lives and the extreme emotional reaction it evokes in the audience, I consider this movie an unqualified success. It's also the apex of what Darren Aronofsky termed his hip-hop editing style: ultra-quick cuts repeated in succession every time a character shoots up or pops some pills, showing the compulsive and automatic nature of the action. Add in a stellar performance by Ellen Burstyn (my favorite story from the director's commentary is the one about the cameraman who, during an emotional scene with Burstyn and Leto, let the shot drift off-center because he couldn't see the actors through his tears) and my favorite original film score of the decade, and you've got one great film. Highly disturbing, but great.

2. O Brother, Where Art Thou?
I was showing this to my ninth grade English class last year (I connected its themes to The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn) and while watching my students' responses it occurred to me that O Brother, Where Art Thou? may be the perfect film, as far as widespread appeal goes. Directed by the Coen Brothers, it has enough art cred for the film snobs. Its story is fun and entertaining enough for my high schoolers. It has clever lines and verbal humor for the high-brow and plenty of slapstick for the low-brow. Even its soundtrack, which is responsible for a modern bluegrass revival, appeals to music snobs, top 40 listeners, and rural country music fans. This movie is all things for all people, which is pretty remarkable, considering its surreal premise as a screwball comedy set in depression-era South that follows the structure of Homer's The Odyssey.

Like so many of the Coens' films, this keeps getting better with age. There are hilarious performances (Stephen Root, John Turturro) and wonderfully quotable lines ("I slaughtered this horse last Tuesday. I'm afraid she's startin' to turn.") that I look forward to with each viewing.

1. Adaptation
I'm a sucker for metafiction, although I'm not too keen on the term itself. It seems too limiting to me. But give me a clever premise like a movie about a guy trying to write adapt a book into a screenplay, but instead decides to write a screenplay about trying to write a screenplay which turns out to be the screenplay for the very movie you're watching, and I'm hooked. Charlie Kaufman's writing is very clever and funny, and I think it's best when paired with the directing of Spike Jonze. There are so many things to love about the film that I'm not going to get into right now, but I think my favorite is the way that it satirizes both artsy filmmakers like Kaufman and the kind of lowest-common-denominator movies that Kaufman's fictional twin brother wants to make, and in the end seems to redeem them both.

So there you have my list, not necessarily of the absolute best films of the decade in any objective sense, but at least the film that had the strongest impact on me.