Heh... Well folks, Harry here, and you are in for quite a treat. I've been getting emails from folks wondering what the hell our dear Professor has been up to. Well... About 2 months ago, via the pnuematic tubes connecting his Lab with my Headquarters, I recieved a parchment with the request, "Harry, I will write the most exhaustive and thrilling accounting of the decade we are ending... Moriarty" Using my interocitor I contacted Moriarty and began a discussion that said, "OK" and ever since... he's been whipping Henchman Mongo and working on this. By the time he's done (this is only 90,91,92) we will have the best look at the 90's World of Film you'll see anywhere. Without further ado, here is my dear friend, James G Moriarty....

Hey, Head Geek...

"Moriarty" here.

Well, here it is. That time of the year when I write enough words to make Webster himself sick. This time, though, I have more than just a single year to write about. No, this time I have the opportunity to go completely and utterly insane, unleashing articles of unparalleled evil upon you all. Let it never be said I’m a man to squander such an opportunity, especially when I have such spectacular pain planned.

I'm not going to get involved in that whole ridiculous semantics debate over the millennium for one main reason; they haven’t been making films for that long, so why make a list that runs that long? No, thanks; I’ll stick with a best of the decade list, and as far as I'm concerned, the film era known as "The Nineties" runs from January 1, 1990 to Dec. 31, 1999 -- 10 years. That means it’s been over for two whole days, which means it's time for a retrospective of this, my first decade on the front lines of filmmaking, a decade that has seen incredible highs and startling lows.

Over the next four special articles, I'm going to take a look at each of the years, talking my way through the decade overall, both good and bad. For each year, I’ve listed my ten favorite films, five runners-up, and the twenty hours I most want back. Some of this is stuff I wrote at the time in question, and some of it is new material, me looking back from the perspective of right now. In the final article, I'm going to crown the 25 best films of the decade, towering works that I believe point up the finest that we as an industry and an art form are able to offer at this moment. I'm also going to name the 10 artists who have most shaped the experience I've had as a filmgoer, whether they're directors, writers, actors, or any other member of the crew.

This is all from a highly subjective point of view, of course. I don't even remotely pretend to be taking anyone else's tastes into account. There are choices I'm making here that I fully expect to be hammered for, and I don't care. I've really spent some time on this, and I feel strongly about these choices. These are films and moments and performances that I come back to, films that have stuck with me, both for good and for bad. Here's hoping many of them have stuck with you as well.

1990

For me, this will always be known as the year I moved to Los Angeles. If you're interested in what I was doing before, you can always dig up some of Arthur Conan Doyle's scribblings. There was just an endless succession of evil plans, narrow escapes, and brilliant crime sprees. I had managed to elude authorities with ease, and to be quite honest, I was getting bored. It all felt like just a nowhere job, a life without much future. Then, on May 16th, 1990, something happened that jolted me in a profound way and forced me to examine what it was that I was doing with my life.

Jim Henson died.

I remember feeling gutpunched when I heard about it. As much as any pop culture figure, Jim Henson was a part of my life. He taught me to read. More than that, the view of the world espoused on SESAME STREET was truly radical, a view that included blacks, whites, Hispanics, monsters, giant birds, grouches, frogs, and anyone else who happened to stop by. It was a world much like the one endorsed by John Lennon, whose death a decade earlier had also rattled me, although I was too young to feel the full loss at the time.

With Henson, I felt it. I resolved to pursue something in my life that would make me happy. I may tease about being evil, but that’s because you all know that when I do finally rule the world, it will be with an even hand and a merciful heart. Mostly. Sometimes. Point being, I talked my fellow bad seed Harry Lime into loading up a car and relocating. Because of that, I’ve been sitting front and center for this entire decade of film, and I’ve got plenty to say about what I’ve seen.

Looking back at the films that came out that year, there's still a real heavy '80s vibe going on. DICK TRACY and ANOTHER 48 HRS. and DIE HARD 2 and BACK TO THE FUTURE III... they all seemed to be more of the same to some degree. There were signs of life, though, films that seemed to be determined to shrug off the gloss and the high concept, determined to be something deeper, smarter, more ambitious.

1. MILLER'S CROSSING

Until I met The Dude, this was my favorite overall film by the Coen Brothers. In a year where THE GODFATHER PART III was supposed to be the first and last word on gangsters on film, this bold, brilliant tribute to Dashiell Hammett snuck in under the radar and blew my mind completely, managing to transcend its genre with ease. From the time I saw the first trailer and heard that beautiful, haunting Carter Burwell score, all I remember is being anxious to see it, dying to see it, rabid, ready. I thought it could be fun like the Coens previous film, the comic masterwork RAISING ARIZONA. I thought it might be nasty sort of noir like their first film BLOOD SIMPLE. What I didn't expect was to be so overwhelmed by both the mastery of the medium and the lushness of the language. The Coens seemed to have taken all their earlier gifts up a notch, and the result entertains me with every single frame. I’ve heard people complain that the script is too complicated, but I think that’s a shame. I love the elaborate nature of Tom’s master plan and the way it unfolds to his satisfaction and our constant amazement. This is the film that led the Coens to the legendary writer’s block that gave birth to the script for BARTON FINK. In the end, the result of their efforts is a film that grows for me with each viewing. "Look in your heart... look in your heart!"

2. GOODFELLAS

Martin Scorsese has always had the eye of a poet, the soul of a natural filmmaker, but there was a time when he also had a hunger, a powerful desire to prove something, to make films that leapt off the screen and throttled the viewer. More than RAGING BULL or even TAXI DRIVER, this is the film where Scorsese managed to somehow make it all so irresistible that even the mainstream had to embrace it. This bizarre tale of Henry Hill, rat, in his climb to power and fall from grace, should be as distasteful as anything ever committed to film, but somehow it isn't. There are moments of violence in this film that still make me flinch to think about, but I've heard kids quoting Joe Pesci's great moment: "How am I funny?" Anyone who wants to know how to use film to create a visceral impact need look no further than this audacious, overpowering assault. If MILLER’S CROSSING managed to transcend its genre, then GOODFELLAS set the standard for the genre for all future contenders.

3. MEN DON'T LEAVE

Paul Brickman is a mystery to me. I've looked him up on the IMDb (my best friend while assembling the research behind this article, BTW), and he just barely exists. He contributed as a writer to a few films like HANDLE WITH CARE (or CITIZEN'S BAND, depending on when you saw it) and DEAL OF THE CENTURY. He wrote and directed RISKY BUSINESS, a film that I think has aged wonderfully, and then he directed this little gem before falling off the face of the earth. This is one of those films that I thought I wouldn't really like when I saw the initial trailers. It looked like a weepy story about a woman's plucky struggle to make it on her own. Instead, it's a really strange, eccentric little piece about the relationships we create in order to make it in life. It's about looking for affection anywhere we can when we lose someone. It's a shattering picture, moment after moment, and it's some of my favorite work by Jessica Lange. Chris O'Donnell actually makes a pretty darn effective debut here, with one particularly wrenching scene opposite Arliss Howard late in the film. I still stop on this film anytime it's on cable, and I am able to immediately plug back in to the moment. To me, that’s a good sign of the film’s lasting power.

4. HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER

John McNaughton pretty much put an end to me ever taking crap like THE BONE COLLECTOR seriously with this film, a nightmare that etched some truly horrible images on my mind forever. Michael Rooker is chilling in the film, the perfect face to the barely contained bile of the script, the naked contempt for everything "normal" that just permeates the whole film. Tom Towles is perfect as Otis, and I am still haunted by Tracy Arnold as Otis' poor cow sister Becky. Her efforts to please Henry, to repay him for imagined kindness, are just heartbreaking. There are any number of classically horrific moments in the film, but there's one that has become legend, the infamous "video camera" sequence. I'll be honest... I've seen a lot of horror films in my life, and I've read practically everything ever written in the genre. I've encountered some strong stuff, and I've been shaken by some of it. The "video" scene in HENRY towers among the most horrible of them all, and that's without the benefit of any real gore. The reason? It's such a violation, such a dark, bleak, evil moment, and someone had to think it up. Just knowing the capacity for such events even exists -- whether it's in the heart of a filmmaker or the heart of a killer doesn't matter -- is enough to send me cowering.

5. DANCES WITH WOLVES

Yes, I liked it this much. Still do, as a matter of fact. I love epic films when they’re well-made, and with this film, Costner nailed it on every front. Dean Semler’s stunning photography and John Barry’s majestic score both provide perfect support to a story that draws real power from simplicity. Kevin Costner is a solid anchor for the film, but it’s his supporting cast and their memorable smaller roles that really make the film great. Yes, Michael Blake’s script borrows liberally from THE SEARCHERS and other classic westerns; yes, it’s got a fair amount of goofball humor; and, yes, it’s got a PC streak a mile wide. Still, it manages to be touching, sad, empowering, a piece of pop entertainment with something real and honest at its core.

6. EDWARD SCISSORHANDS

When Tim Burton connects with a piece of material, he has a powerful, original voice that I’m particularly fond of. This fairy tale initially sprung from a sketch of Tim’s, and screenwriter Caroline Thompson seems to have reached right into Burton’s strange, cobwebby brain and pulled out something familiar, yet wholly unique. Using the nonsensical image of an unfinished boy with scissors for hands to weave a moving allegory about not being able to connect with others, not touching for fear of doing damage, is a stroke of lyrical genius. There’s one powerful moment in particular that brings tears to my eyes any time I see it, as the improbably blonde Winona Ryder dances under snowflakes, the airborne shavings from ice sculptures that Edward fashions. It’s pure Tim.

7. LA FEMME NIKITA

I’ve gotten a lot of mail in the time I’ve been a contributor to AICN that has accused me of not liking action movies. That’s simply not the case. I love films like THE ROAD WARRIOR or RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK or ALIENS, where action is more than just mindless visceral thrill, where it can be story, character, even theme. This Besson picture is a classic of the genre, the terrible tale of a wild child who is captured and given a choice: life in jail or life as a government hit woman. She is programmed, made over, recreated, and set loose upon the world. When their weapon develops feelings, a life, things become complicated, even deadly. It’s a love letter to an actress, Besson’s then-flame Anne Parillaud. All the lead performances in the film are great, real, natural, and there’s moments that are profoundly human, piercing. When Besson finally does decide to turn up the heat, he plays for keeps. My only major gripe is how badly the various letterboxed versions of the film have been mishandled. There’s one brilliant moment of Parillaud’s that is always cropped, even though it’s central to her character. Grrrrrrr...

8. MIAMI BLUES

I cannot emphasize this too strongly: George Armitage does not work nearly enough. Between this and 1997’s GROSSE POINTE BLANK, he’s proven that he has a particular knack for blending brutal action and dark, dark comedy. Of the two, I prefer this poisoned little piece of cotton candy. Alec Baldwin’s never seemed this alive again, this dangerous, this close to losing control. The way he pinballs off both dumb bunny Jennifer Jason Leigh and suspicious cop Fred Ward is a constant delight. It’s the little details that really make this one special: the Hare Krishna’s bizarre method of execution, Junior on a rampage with a stolen badge, Fred Ward’s stolen teeth, the t-shirts Leigh buys... this whole film is a treat that too many people missed.

9. THE WITCHES

I was an enormous fan of Roald Dahl’s grim, sarcastic children’s books while growing up, and this Nicholas Roeg film captures the flavor of those books with almost frightening precision. The magic of the film is provided by Jim Henson’s Creature Shop, and it stands next to DREAMCHILD as their finest work ever. Even the very end of the film, which smacks of studio tampering, has a tart kick, refusing to be overly sentimental. In a world where “family film” is often code for “gooey phony sentimental crap,” a film like this can feel like a miracle.

10. QUICK CHANGE

I have used this column to wax rhapsodic about Bill Murray before, and you can be sure I’ll do it again. Put simply, he’s the greatest screen clown working today. This film, co-directed by Murray and Howard Franklin, is one of my favorite comic confections, an inspired little bit of nastiness adapted from a Jay Cronley novel about a man who truly hates a city. Who can blame him? The New York in this film seems to have a focused, almost hallucinatory sense of life, a will to kill. Tony Shaloub makes one of his first great comic appearances here -- the word “Bluftoni” still makes me cry laughing -- and he’s matched by a great comic supporting cast including Ray Elliott, Randy Quaid, Philip Bosco, Phil Hartman, and Kurtwood Smith.

RUNNERS-UP

1. THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER

Or, as we like to call it here at the Labs, “the only good Jack Ryan movie.” This film seemed like the herald of a shift in the direction of action cinema, coming as it did on the heels of DIE HARD, a shift to something smarter, with richer character. Instead, it proved to be an anomaly. John McTiernan has never been this good since, and that might just be because of how high he set the bar. The cast is uniformly excellent, but it’s Sean Connery whose presence towers over the film. He and his amazing toup are center stage and Ryan’s never faced anyone this interesting again. This is no simple tale of good guys and bad guys. Instead, we are given a complex moral situation, something for the political analyst to actually analyze. In a genre where Jerry Bruckheimer rules supreme, this sort of cerebral rush is something cherish.

2. JOE VERSUS THE VOLCANO

Hats off to John Patrick Shanley for coming this close to great with such a crazed, delirious fable. It’s hard to get whimsy right on film, and some of our best filmmakers have failed at it... but we’ll get to TOYS a little later. Shanley manages to makes some remarkable points about love and fate and choice here, and the film’s got a rich and quirky visual style. It’s not perfect; in particular, the last ten minutes fall apart. What it does beautifully, though, can be summed up by a James Bond quote that was included at the start of the original screenplay for JOE, even though it didn’t make it into the final film: "You only live twice. Once when you're born, and once when you look death in the face."

3. MISERY

This is one of those solidly-crafted films that seem to pop up from time to time, not pushing any envelopes or breaking any new ground. Instead, it does its job with confidence and poise, with quiet class. Rob Reiner’s got a surprisingly keen sense of how to wring suspense out of each of the film’s key scenes, and some of that can be attributed to William Goldman’s lean, mean adaptation of Stephen King’s novel. By the way, Rob, if you happen to read this, I hope it amuses you to learn that I’ve never been able to watch the hobbling scene a second time. It remains one of the most effective acts of screen violence I’ve ever seen.

4. THE GRIFTERS

I’m a big fan of Jim Thompson. He’s my favorite noir writer, so hard boiled it hurts. 1990 was a banner year for Thompson fans with this adaptation narrowly edging AFTER DARK, MY SWEET off the list. Stephen Frears and Donald Westlake have turned this into one of the most demented mother/son relationship films since PSYCHO. When I recently met and interviewed Annette Bening, I confess that I flashed on this film and her raw sexuality in it. It made that strong an impression on me. So did Bobo’s use of the oranges. I’ve never looked at one the same way again.

5. THE FRESHMAN

I used to list Andrew Bergman among my favorite comic filmmakers, but aside from this dizzy spin on THE GODFATHER, I’ve been indifferent to his output this decade. Thank god we’ve got this wonderful last gasp, at least. By the time Bert Parks sings, “Here she comes... Miss Komodo Dragon!” it should be obvious that Bergman and his entire cast are all completely insane. Penelope Anne Miller’s never seemed more natural onscreen, Frank Whaley is a remarkable crank, Bruno Kirby tweaks his GODFATHER II persona with aplomb, and Matthew Broderick is at his exasperated best. In the end, of course, it is Marlon Brando’s show. Just try watching him on ice skates without smiling. Go on; I dare you.

1. BONFIRE OF THE VANITIES

As wrongheaded an adaptation of a novel as I’ve ever seen, this film manages the difficult task of making Tom Hanks, Bruce Willis, and Morgan Freeman all seem completely talentless. How Brian De Palma got this far offtrack made for one of the best books about corporate filmmaking (THE DEVIL’S CANDY by Julie Solomon) that I’ve read, but I’m still not sure I can wrap my head around this. The film manages to be casually racist, sexist, and classist in equal measure, completely perverting the point of Tom Wolfe’s genius original novel, and my main reaction to seeing it was the desire to shower afterward. It’s not just a bad film; in many ways, it’s a filthy one.

2. PRETTY WOMAN

This is one of the most morally reprehensible major studio releases to ever find mainstream acceptance, and it baffles me. I mean, I understand star charisma and its power, but this film is dangerous, potentially damaging, and no one says a world. We’ve got senators debating the merits of FIGHT CLUB and THE MATRIX, but this fairy tale that sells the idea of prostitution to little girls as a way of finding Prince Charming is sanctioned by Disney, so it must be okay. It’s not, though; it’s disgusting, especially in a package as slick and soulless as this one. Throw in a near-rape that’s played mainly for laughs and you’ve got a stomach-churning mess.

3. MEN AT WORK

Emilio Estevez’s first film as a director, WISDOM, made me so mad with its ending that I threw something at the screen. Still, that was just a warm-up for the exquisite agony of this thuddingly stupid film about wacky garbagemen. There’s not a single good idea or clever line in the entire script, and there’s not a hint of technical accomplishment in the direction. All I can figure is this was an inside joke that somehow found its way onscreen.

4. ROCKY 5

Watch John G. Avildsen’s original ROCKY, then watch this film and weep for what is lost. This is one of the best arguments against sequels that I’ve ever seen. Tommy Morrison is cast as himself, a cretinous, disgusting thug, and Stallone just slinks through, rightfully embarrassed by the whole mess.

5. THE ADVENTURES OF FORD FAIRLANE

Renny Harlin has no idea how to stage an action scene or a dramatic moment, so I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me to learn he’s without any comic abilities, either. This film is primarily fascinating as a record of just how out of control Andrew Dice Clay’s ego was at the start of the decade. This film is a “vehicle” in the worst sense of the word, and it doesn’t just crash and burn; it flips, rolls, and explodes as well. I’ll give the film a few grudging points for Lauren Holly and her gravity-defying dresses as well as Ed O’Neill and “booty time,” but that’s not nearly enough to justify anyone else ever burning their corneas with this trash.

6. GHOST

Shut up. Don’t even start whining at me. This movie is astonishingly slick, but it’s phony to the core. Bruce Joel Rubin was a prime mover of New Age pap at the start of the decade, and this film just edges out JACOB’S LADDER and its huge cheat of an ending to make the list. I hate fantasy that makes up rules as it goes, that offers easy sentiment instead of genuine thought. This movie also features the worst romantic dialogue of the decade, with “ditto” being enough to send me into rabid fits. Demi Moore deserves credit for almost making Swayze seem interesting, and I’ll give Jerry Zucker his due for selling this mess to America. But I still have to ask... Best Supporting Actress... ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?

7. FLATLINERS

Joel Schumacher kicked off the decade in low style with this hysterical bit of neon-lit nonsense, a harbinger of worse things to come. There’s a kernel of a good idea here, but the sheer intensity of the silliness keeps overwhelming all intentions. The cast is terrible without exception, lurching about like they can barely take it seriously. With such a provocative premise, some powerful points could have been made about life and death. More than anything, this stings as an opportunity missed.

8. YOUNG GUNS II

If DANCES WITH WOLVES was trying to shake up genre clichés, this film embraced them with both fists and then choked whatever life was left out of them. The cast never overcomes the whole “kids playing dress-up” vibe, and their attempts to look rough and tough are laughable more often than not. As far as the plot goes, there’s not one. I’d be surprised if anyone can tell me what events this film covers. On the whole, it’s a markedly downbeat film that never quite gets its tone right. It’s films like this that killed off the careers of many of the Brat Packers.

9. THE ROOKIE

There’s only one time in my life that I’ve ever lied to someone’s face about my reaction to their film. The morning I saw this, I was at an exhibitor’s screening, and I ended up seated next to Clint Eastwood himself during the film. I was excited until the lights went down and the film started. I was horrified. It was unfunny, way too violent, mysogynistic... a dreadful experience on every front. When the lights came up, he gave me that narrow-eyed, clench-jawed stare and asked, “What did you think?” I put on my best fake smile and lied, “It was great.” He just studied my face for a moment, said, “Riiiiiight,” and moved on. I’m sorry I didn’t lie better, Clint. Your film just hurt so damn much.

10. DIE HARD 2: DIE HARDER

Hey, it’s just like the first one, but horrible! Actually, my distaste for this film stems from my belief that it’s nothing more than a FRIDAY THE 13TH movie in disguise. The whole film exists to give Bruce Willis an excuse to kill goons in creative ways and great number. The film’s a visual nightmare, built by an editor, devoid of style. Harlin doesn’t even seem to have seen McTiernan’s original. The worst part of it all is how coincidental the whole plot is. McLane just stumbles into things, the way his wife just stumbles into her subplot. Once again, this is almost bad enough to turn me against any sequels... ever.

Jason Patric, AFTER DARK, MY SWEET

This is a great, focused, incendiary performance, volcanic emotion locked inside the body of a boxer and the brain of a child. It’s hard to be both pathetic and menacing, but Patric pulls it off.

Robin Williams, AWAKENINGS

Williams does a great job of bringing Oliver Sacks to the screen with all of his fascinating eccentricity intact. This guy can barely talk to other people, yet he’s expected to somehow heal them. If PATCH ADAMS is a disease, this role is the cure.

Christopher Lloyd and Mary Steenburgen, BACK TO THE FUTURE III

In his entire career, Lloyd’s never had a romantic lead in a film. God bless Zemeckis and Gale for tapping Lloyd’s sweet side for this very touching courtship, a lovely grace note at the close of a great trilogy.

Rob Lowe, BAD INFLUENCE

If he hadn’t played this role at the exact moment that he did, chances are scandal would have driven Lowe out of film. This is such a great charismatic role, though, that it kept him in the game. Good thing, too. This is one promise that was fulfilled consistently over the course of the decade.

Graham Greene, DANCES WITH WOLVES

If there’s a soul to this film, Graham Greene’s the reason. He plays Kicking Bird, the first of the Indians to reach out to Costner’s John Dunbar. It’s Greene who focuses the film’s human and moral messages, and it’s that great face of his that does all the work. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime role, and he makes the most of every second.

Johnny Depp, EDWARD SCISSORHANDS

When they write about Depp’s career in the future this will be the moment where it officially got interesting. It’s no wonder he paid tribute to Buster Keaton in a later film. This is a silent star performance. His face, his posture, his eyes... everything is just a tool, part of this remarkable creation.

Marlon Brando, THE FRESHMAN

I don’t understand people who believe Brando’s done as an actor. He’s just bored by most things he’s offered, and he doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to. When he does decide to show up onscreen, though, it’s usually because he’s engaged by the material, as was the case here. The idea of deflating his own performance as Don Corleone was to ripe to pass up, and there’s a twinkle in his eye as he goes about it. I love how befuddled and crazy he seems, especially when he reveals how sly he really is.

Joe Pesci, GOODFELLAS

Yes, I know it’s been parodied a million times now. Yes, I’ve seen “the clip” a million times now. In the end, none of that matters. Pesci is electric in this film, deadly and unpredictable. In particular, I will never forget his scenes with Michael Imperioli as the ill-fated Spider.

John Cusack and Anjelica Huston, THE GRIFTERS

This is an evil duet, two great actors behaving their very worst. It’s also as twisted a familial relationship as anything in CHINATOWN or LONE STAR. It’s one of the few times Cusack has been truly despicable, and it’s some of his best work.

Michael Rooker, HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER

He scares the hell out of me, and there’s nothing human behind his eyes. What more needs to be said?

Kevin Kline, I LOVE YOU TO DEATH

Too broad? Impossible. The sheer lunacy of this story gives Kline carte blanche to play Joey as an oily maniac, all insincere charm and oddball accent. My favorite part of the film is the way he just won’t die, no matter what anyone does to him. His Wile E. Coyote resilience makes a potentially ugly story painfully funny.

Richard Gere, INTERNAL AFFAIRS

I’ve never really trusted “nice guy Gere” onscreen. There’s something hungry in his eyes, something lethal, and he harnesses that energy to beautiful effect here. The film is ultimately forgettable, but not Gere.

Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, JOE VERSUS THE VOLCANO

America seems to love these two together, but for some reason, they keep rewarding the wrong movies. SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE? YOU’VE GOT MAIL? These films are empty calories, cheap. This movie is the one where they shine, individually and as a real team. Hanks is exceptional as Joe Banks, the ex-fireman dying of a rare “brain cloud.” Watching him progress from zombie to dead man to fully embracing life is both hilarious and affecting. Watch him tell off Dan Hedaya when he quits his job. It’s better than the similar scenes in both FIGHT CLUB and AMERICAN BEAUTY this year, stranger, funnier, and sadder. It’s even more fun to watch Ryan play the three difference faces of Karma Girl. She’s rarely given this much room to be funny, and she makes the most of it. “Daddy says I’m a flibbertigibbet,” indeed.

Christopher Walken, KING OF NEW YORK

Walken’s never been more menacing. He storms through this movie, a force of nature. Abel Ferrara may be completely insane -- and I’m not exaggerating when I say that -- but he sure does know how to get out of an actor’s way.

Jessica Lange, Arliss Howard, and Joan Cusack, MEN DON’T LEAVE

It’s very hard to walk that fine line between tears and laughter, but here’s a trio of actors who pull off this tightrope act with grace. Each of them gives off enough star wattage to fuel an entire lesser movie. Together, they are bliss.

Alec Baldwin, Jennifer Jason Leigh, and Fred Ward, MIAMI BLUES

What happened to this Alec Baldwin? He entered the decade swinging. Junior is great, charismatic but mercurial, with a hair trigger that we, the audience, come to fear. Fred Ward’s Hoke Moseley is the supposed hero of the film, but I don’t know where my sympathy lies. Most probably, it’s with Jennifer Jason Leigh, whose Susie is the innocent between these two men. Leigh has rarely been so appealing. She’s that girl who helps any animals, takes in lost children, who just can’t help but love. In many ways, she’s all that grounds this crazy cartoon.

Gabriel Byrne, Albert Finney, and John Turturro, MILLER’S CROSSING

Watching these three circle each other in an intricate dance of deception is like watching ballet. Each move is precise, pointed, perfect, and these actors all savor their dialogue like the fine wine it is.

Kathy Bates, MISERY

King’s original story only works if we believe in Annie. We have to believe her passion, her obsession, and we have to fear that her grasp on reality is slowly slipping. Kathy Bates makes us believe, and she even gives us permission to feel sorry for Annie in the midst of her madness.

Anne Parillaud, LA FEMME NIKITA

Beautiful and savage, Parillaud is utterly convincing in both the emotional and the action scenes. This script was written for her, and if anyone has any doubts about how important she was to the film’s success, all they need to do is check out POINT OF NO RETURN, John Badham’s virtual shot-by-shot remake, where Bridget Fonda fails utterly in the role. It’s not her fault, though; anyone would suffer by comparison.

Harrison Ford, PRESUMED INNOCENT

Mark it on your calendars: this was the last time Harrison Ford really mattered as a performer. Like his earlier misunderstood masterpiece THE MOSQUITO COAST, this is a film about a complicated character, someone we’re never sure we like. It’s not until his final shattering scene with Bonnie Bedelia that we truly glimpse the heart of Rusty Sabitch. It’s his single finest moment as an actor. The movie was a box-office misfire, though, and he’s phoned it in ever since, playing it safe. I’m not sure if I blame him or the audience more.

Julia Roberts, PRETTY WOMAN

I’m sure many of you just scrolled back up to double-check my “worst of” list. No mistake. I do indeed hate this movie, but I’m not going to pretend Julia Roberts was anything less than incandescent here. She was so possessed of whatever it is that makes up a movie star that she was able to generate enough goodwill to coast through SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY, HOOK, DYING YOUNG, I LOVE TROUBLE, and MARY REILLY with the audience’s love for her intact.

Bill Murray, QUICK CHANGE

“What the hell kind of clown are you?” asks Ray Elliot. Bill takes a beat, shrugs, and offers a deadpan, “The crying on the inside kind, I guess.” He’s at his sardonic best here as Grimm, and he makes no apologies for it. In many ways, this is his most angry performance. He has real fire in him, and generates heat with each person he encounters in the film. It’s great that he gets to play as silly as he’s ever been (“He said, ‘Up your butt with a coconut’... but he had no coconut. There was no coconut to my knowledge.”) and also move towards playing genuinely tender in scenes with Geena. It’s a lovely piece of nuanced work.

Jeremy Irons, REVERSAL OF FORTUNE

His Klaus Von Bulow is one of the most convincing monsters of the decade, a stunning portrait of the way money can insulate someone from their morals. I still say he won his Oscar here because the Academy owed it to him for the far superior DEAD RINGERS, but this is great work, nonetheless. The movie around him may succumb to formula, but Irons elevates it all.

Tim Roth and Gary Oldman, ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN ARE DEAD

Tom Stoppard’s play isn’t just a challenge for actors; it’s a dare. Oldman and Roth make it all seem easy here, a natural comedy team that keeps getting funnier and more fearless as the film unfolds.

Anjelica Huston, THE WITCHES

Both in makeup and out, Huston is terrifying here. Most actors would take a film like this as an opportunity to camp it up, but she plays it straight. As a result, even the moments where she’s smiling and it’s broad daylight manage to be creepy.

Sandra Bernhard, WITHOUT YOU I’M NOTHING

I was working at a theater when this came out, and I have a very special love for the film. It’s the exact opposite of a love letter to the audience. It’s more like an all-out assault. It’s a canny piece of performance art about the relationship an audience has with an entertainer, and every single time it played, the most remarkable thing would happen: every single audience member would walk out. Not all at once, mind you, but one at a time, maybe in small groups. Eventually, though, the whole place would be empty. Almost no one ever made it to her nearly-nude performance of “Little Red Corvette,” the single craziest closing number I have ever laid eyes one.

1991

This was the year I started breaking through, meeting people, and getting to watch the process from beginning to end. I learned a lot of respect for the simple act of will it takes to get a film onscreen in any form, much less as a great work of art, and I started to become more demanding as a result. It’s not something anyone can do, even if there is a giant crew supporting you. It still comes down to a core group of artists making choices that affect that emotional experience we have seated in the dark. There were several films this year that ably rewarded me making the choice to spend that time with them.

1. JFK

Those who would damn this film for not being “true” miss the point. No film is true, especially not a film about an event as clouded in obfuscation as this one. Instead, this is an American RASHOMON, a film about the search for truth and the elusive nature of it. Oliver Stone illuminates every theory in the film visually, shows us possibility after possibility for how things might have happened. It’s the finest work he’s ever done as a filmmaker, and it should be taught in film schools for mise en scene, if nothing else. The giant, unruly supporting cast gives us glimmers of life in the strangest moments, and the overall effect of the picture is dizzying. I left the theater after my first viewing drunk on the potential of cinema. Any film that can still do that to me after all the movies I’ve seen is a classic.

2. TERMINATOR 2: JUDGMENT DAY

This is one of my very favorite pure action films. As much as I loved the original TERMINATOR when it came out, the low budget always nagged at me. I didn’t hold it against the film, but other people would when I brought it up. One viewing of this amazing piece of eye candy would have to shut up even the most embittered critic, though. Groundbreaking upon release, the film still retains its power to amaze because of its energy. It never stops for the entire two hours-plus that it runs. Both Arnold as the original Terminator and Robert Patrick as the T-1000 are excellent, and Linda Hamilton’s body sculpting for the film just might be the most amazing special effect on display.

3. THE FISHER KING

I have written thousands and thousands of words about my love of this film, and I think time will only continue to prove what a powerful piece it is. True, it’s got about five endings too many, and true, it’s overlong, but this film has life to it... real, messy life spilling over the edges of the frame. I didn’t realize Terry Gilliam was such a humanist, but the way he gave life to Richard LaGravanese’s script is wrenching. He managed to find every grace note, draw out every drop of emotion, and it all comes across as honest and raw. Even the laughs in the film are the kind that get caught before you can let them out, the kind that are tinged with hurt. It’s a beautiful fable about responsibility and healing, and it manages to tower over all the gooey New Age hokum that was popular near the same time because it never once talks down to its audience. If nothing else, it is remarkable for the extended date sequence in which all four of the leads are given ample room to shine. There’s a sense of the romantic here that is about real connection, and it’s a miracle to see Williams turn “Lydia, The Tattooed Lady” into a moving love song. Then again, it’s a film that’s filled with miracles.

4. RUSH

Most people only know this film exists because Eric Clapton’s “Tears In Heaven” was written for it, and that’s a shame. The film easily matches the melancholy power of that song, and director Lili Fini Zanuck deserves credit for turning in an astonishing debut. Of all the Jennifer Jason Leigh performances in the ‘90s, this is still my favorite. I am torn apart by the relationship she and Jason Patric share in the film. The two of them seem to be having a contest to see who can deteriorate the furthest over the course of the film, and it’s easy to get a sense of the real relationship that existed between these people. They destroyed one another, and they destroyed themselves. They both got so far into their jobs that they lost track of who they were and became the roles they were playing. In some ways, this is a cautionary tale for method actors, and I wonder what long-term effect it had on the leads. The rest of the cast, many of whom aren’t normally actors, are memorable and achingly real. Another reason I love the film is that it has the balls to be honest about the drug scene. They paint a seductive picture at first. These people don’t make the decision to destroy their lives... they are seduced into it. Like TRAINSPOTTING later in the decade, this film managed to play fair, never coming on like propaganda. It’s a human story, one that anyone should be able to relate to, even if they’ve never come close to being burned themselves. Oh... and that Clapton song? Just one part of a phenomenal score, one that will break your heart.

5. DELICATESSEN

This was my introduction to the particular delights of Jeunet and Caro, a team of French filmmakers who have turned out two confident masterpieces this decade, with this being the first of them. This film is a very slight affair, a black little cannibalism joke, but what lifts it into high comic art is the details of the whole piece. Every single thing we see and hear is choreographed. The whole world dances around the characters, with everything coming together in a symphony of daily sounds. There’s one sequence in particular in which an entire apartment building falls into synch, everything cueing everything else, that is such a superb self-contained moment that it actually served as the film’s trailer in America. As much as I enjoy this film, it’s the team’s later effort that really knocked me out. Still, I celebrate anytime I glimpse a vision this original.

6. CITY OF HOPE

Speaking of original visions, this is another of John Sayles’ perfect little films, a huge ensemble-driven portrait of the life of a modern American city. Photographed to breathtaking effect by Robert Richardson (between this and his two Stone collaborations this year, easily the best D.P. working at this particular moment), it’s a searing story that covers many bases using members of Sayles’ regular repertory group of actors. David Strathairn, Vincent Spano, Chris Cooper, Joe Morton, and even Sayles himself are all familiar faces, and he makes excellent use of other actors, like Tony Lo Bianco, Frankie Faison, Angela Bassett, Todd Graff, and Gina Gershon. The film weaves a number of storylines, some of them less political than others, but all of them commenting in some way on community and the sense that the larger cities get, the less together people are. The ending of the film has stuck with me all decade long: Asteroid, the homeless and possibly insane character played by Strathairn, hanging on a chain-link fence, shaking it, crying out with a ruined, desperate voice, the same one word over and over. “Help! Help! Help!” Having lived in Los Angeles this decade and having watched all its social turmoil firsthand, no image better cements the way I feel.

7. BARTON FINK

I don’t think this is anywhere near the best film the Coen Bros. have made, but it’s a great little art-house game, a winning, snarky look inside the mind of artists who are wrestling with their own creative gifts. As the Coens worked on their labyrinthine MILLER’S CROSSING script, they got stuck. This film was written as a way of breaking down that writer’s block. In writing about the very subject of writer’s block, they also got to explore the great writers of the jazz age who sold out their considerable gifts to Hollywood. Some got in and got back out, while others died slowly, like the grand old coot that John Mahoney gives such ripe and ribald life to. There’s a lot of very good character work here, with Michael Lerner and Jon Polito making a very good comedy team, and with Judy Davis giving such great attitude, but the film never really engages. Instead, its surreal edge is something I can admire and enjoy greatly without feeling anything at all.

8. DOGFIGHT

As I was in the midst of working on this article, HBO happened to show this film in the middle of the night. I own it on laserdisc, and planned to take it out to watch it again before deciding where to place it, but there it was, out of the blue, and I watched it. It was after 3:00 in the morning, but I wasn’t tired, and as I watched this film, I was hit by such a sense of loss, over and over, like waves. River Phoenix was such a tremendous presence, and he was just starting to really become a man onscreen, leaving behind that boyish awkwardness. It’s in this film that we get the best picture of who he was about to become, and it’s fitting that he plays the role he does. In the film, he’s a boy playing at manhood, trying to prove something to himself, and we see him wrestling with this undeniable streak of decency that runs right through him. All around him, his friends are soldiers, roughnecks, master shittalkers. He isn’t that, though, no matter how much he puts it on, and that’s what makes the film work. The title and the set-up of the picture don’t have much to do with where it eventually goes and what it eventually does, and I think a lot of people stayed away because Warner Bros. didn’t quite know how to sell it. To my mind, the film makes a perfect double feature with BEFORE SUNRISE, the delicate Linklater film from a few years later. Both films manage to capture that moment we’ve all had where you meet someone and you connect and you have that one perfect conversation that lasts all night, the one where you talk about your past and your dreams and you make each other laugh and you just connect. Nancy Savoca orchestrates the whole thing with a feather touch, and the ending -- two simple words exchanged amid an embrace -- is like a sledgehammer wrapped in velvet, devastatingly gentle.

9. BEAUTY & THE BEAST

Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise, along with Linda Woolverton, deserve credit for honing the Disney formula to a razor’s edge with this picture, one of the last before the studio gave up every last bit of soul. This may be one of the finest fairy tales ever committed to film. I adore the hallucinatory power of Cocteau’s version, and there’s no denying that Disney has used that film to help guide many of their style choices, but this is one case where one can’t fault the team artistically. The score is one of the finest that Disney has recorded, with several showstoppers. Gaston is a remarkable bad guy, entertaining and understandable. All the voice work in the film is solid, even if no one really stands out. In fact, there’s no one part that makes this film work... it’s just a case of everything working the way it should.

10. THE COMMITMENTS

I love Alan Parker when he’s working with music. I think he’s the absolute hands-down best living director of musicals. He’s the only guy I can think of who knows how to handle them for film, no matter what the musical style or subject. I used to try and defend John Landis in the same way but he had to go and make that damn BB2000 and prove me wrong. So I’m left with Parker, and maybe that’s enough. Here, he’s taken Roddy Doyle’s great little comic novel about an unlikely band of Irish youths who somehow, improbably, make great music together for one shining moment, and he’s turned it into one of the most impassioned concert films I’ve ever seen. Of course, the fact that The Commitments aren’t really a band doesn’t matter a bit. They are when Parker shoots them. This movie makes you want to get up and move, and the choice of songs is always invigorating. The material away from the music is all handled well, and the cast is wonderful, but there’s no doubt where the real magic in the film is.

1. HOMICIDE

Of all the films David Mamet has directed, this is far and away my favorite. I find it deeply disturbing, deeply sad, and I think it’s got more on its mind than his other films. It’s not content to the simple game-playing of HOUSE OF GAMES or THE SPANISH PRISONER. It’s not bogged down by pretension like OLEANNA. It’s nowhere near as cute as THINGS CHANGE. Instead, it cuts with incisive writing and simple, uncluttered direction. Each performance is simple, true. The ending of the film is one of those that seems to come up on you out of nowhere, but as you think about it, it’s the only logical place for the film to end up. Just a crushing experience.

2. THE INDIAN RUNNER

This film is the reason I was willing to accept Sean Penn’s retirement from acting. As long as he was still involved in filmmaking and turning out wrenching character dramas like this, I would be happy. Instead, it’s directing he seems to flirt with, only making one other film this decade. A debut like this would be hard to live up to. He used a Bruce Springsteen song as his original inspiration for the script, but this is an original, and it’s a clear indicator that Penn’s is a vital, important voice.

3. GRAND CANYON

I’d been in Los Angeles for about a year and a half when this film came out, and it perfectly summed up my feelings about the city. Kasdan made a movie that seems prescient on this side of the riots, but which many people dismissed as overly negative at the time. It’s a risky film, and it tries to say quite a bit. While I don’t think it’s entirely successful, I can’t deny the power it had for me as a viewer. Walking out of the theater, with a helicopter buzzing by overhead, it was almost too much to take.

4. THE DOORS

It’s no secret to anyone that has seen any of Oliver Stone’s films that the man is absolutely 100% stuck in the ‘60s. There’s a part of him that has never left the era behind, particularly the excesses of the times. With this film, Oliver was able to embrace that madness of that moment, wrap himself up in it, and get lost. He was able to put ILM to use capturing an acid trip. He was able to raise Jim Morrison from the dead for a few more massive Bacchanalian orgies, great golden copulations of sound and color. Are all the facts right? Is this the absolute truth about The Doors? No and no again. Doesn’t matter, though... it feels right, and it sounds amazing. For a massive Morrison fan like me, that was more than enough.

5. DEFENDING YOUR LIFE

There’s something truly profound about the idea of taking any single incident from your life and being judged based on that moment. In each thing we do, we have a choice to try and be our best, and frequently, we let the little moments go. Albert Brooks makes the case here that it’s the sum total of those little moments, and not just the few big flashy moments where we did what we were supposed to, that make up the real character of someone’s existence. Of course, he does it with razor-sharp sarcasm, a great sense of self-deprecation, and a surprisingly nimble romantic spirit in this great, great comedy. This is one of my favorite representations of the afterlife onscreen, right up there with Michael Powell’s. Brooks has really thought about this, and for every comic point he scores, he also makes one that is poignant and honest. The film carries a real punch, and I’m surprised how involved I got in the unlikely relationship between he and Meryl Streep. This is one of the few Brooks films I would recommend to anyone, whether you’re a fan of his work or not. Its appeal is that universal.

1. NOTHING BUT TROUBLE

What the hell happened to Dan Aykroyd? Has he just gotten so strange as he’s gotten older that he has left the mainstream behind forever? I mean, there’s no getting around it... he’s always been a web-toed mutant, but at least when Belushi was alive, Aykroyd was able to somehow communicate his bizarre comic ideas in a language that was genuinely funny and approachable. GHOSTBUSTERS is a great, great script by he and Ramis, and when I first heard about this film (back when it was called VALKENVANIA), it sounded like it was going to be another demented alternate reality that Aykroyd was summoning up. In a way, I guess it is. It’s just that he forgot to make it even remotely funny. Instead, it’s disgusting. I don’t know what filthy image was less funny... the syphilitic judge’s rotten nose socket, the penis shaped prosthetic nose he occasionally wears, the disgusting mutated twin brothers in diapers, or any of a dozen other “gags” in the film. Aykroyd plays several roles, but there’s plenty of humiliation left over for the truly awful Chevy Chase, Demi Moore, John Candy, and Taylor Negron. It’s this kind of film that gives SNL alumni a bad name.

2. REGARDING HENRY

Absolutely shameless. This film couldn’t try any harder to make me cry if it reached out and poked me in the eye. Painfully manipulative, contrived, poorly-written, this is one of those films that makes you wonder if anyone actually reads scripts before they commit to things. Harrison Ford must have deeply regretted passing on BIG when he and Spielberg were considering doing it, because he digs into playing a child here. Once Henry’s been shot in the head, Ford develops a blank stare and a sort of tight-mouthed way of talking that are supposed to signify that he’s a little boy trapped in this man’s body. Instead, they just point up how limited his range as an actor can be. Annette Bening is stranded as his wife here.

3. LIFE STINKS

Especially when you’re Mel Brooks and you’re suddenly just not funny anymore.

4. COOL AS ICE

This was director David Kellogg’s first film. His second film was this year’s INSPECTOR GADGET. Do we sense a trend here?

5. HOOK

This one’s hard to be glib about. It was an important film for Steven Spielberg in many ways, and he blew it. Look at the film’s central conceit: Peter Pan grew up and forgot how to be Peter Pan. For an aging wunderkind, especially one coming off a string of commercial failures, it must have struck close to home. Thanks to circumstance, I had a chance to be a fly on the wall for some of the filming of HOOK at the Sony lot, and it was a strange, tense, fascinating environment. There was a lot of pressure on Spielberg. He was spending a rumored $100 million on the film, one of his stars (Julia Roberts) was melting down under a tabloid microscope, and if he couldn’t make this particular film work, then how could he be expected to make anything work? He was born to make this film. It’s really no wonder he folded under the pressure. The script by Jim V. Hart, Nick Castle, and Malia Scotch Marmo is mawkish, obvious, and overly cute, and it never really gets to the heart of such a potent idea. It’s a shame, too, since it’s an inspired John Williams score, and the actual look of the film is at times almost breathtakingly pretty. This may have been the beginning of the end for Robin Williams, the first of his truly unbearable screen appearances.

6. POINT BREAK

I don’t know what Kathryn Bigelow’s beef is, but she’s got this giant chip on her shoulder as a filmmaker, like she’s got to prove that she’s got more testosterone than any male action filmmaker alive, so she’s going to make her films twice as loud, twice as ugly, and twice as stupid, just to prove she can. This is the hands-down funniest performance Keanu Reeves has ever given in the history of bad Keanu Reeves performances. “You’re going down, Bodhi!” Hysterical. Swayze is his typically stiff self, Lori Petty is from Mars (as always), and one of the major action set pieces is ripped off almost shot for shot from RAISING ARIZONA. Absolutely numbing.

7. ROBIN HOOD: PRINCE OF THIEVES

Bad... so, so very bad. I sat through this film, having heard the supposed test screening buzz about it being “better than RAIDERS,” and I kept waiting for something interesting or exciting to happen. Instead, images of every other Robin Hood from the history of film kept flashing by, each of them more interesting than anything onscreen. This is one of those nonmovies that leaves no impression upon passing by the rods and cones. It just scans and disappears. Kevin Reynolds is one of those guys who has been given chance after chance after chance on big studio action films, and he just hasn’t proven any knack at all. Yes, WATERWORLD eventually turned a profit. Yes, this film was a monetary hit. But can anyone actually watch this dreck now from start to finish? Even Alan Rickman is adrift playing a preposterous villain. Without any redeeming qualities.

8. DEAD AGAIN

I can respect what Scott Frank’s screenplay was trying to do here, and I’m sure that in another filmmaker’s hands, it might have worked. Kenneth Branagh manages to strangle the subtlety from the piece, though, ladling on his overheated visual style until the film suffocates and dies. Emma Thompson is okay here, although I really think her best work was done away from Branagh as a director. As far as his acting goes, there’s not enough scenery in the film for all the chewing he does. I know he fancies himself the modern Olivier, but Branagh has always come across more as the modern Shatner to me, Shakespearean in the worst sense. Andy Garcia’s big gross-out moment with the hole in his trachea is almost worth giving the film a look, but only if you’re a really, really big fan of bad old-age makeup.

9. CURLEY SUE

And as we make our way through the Museum of Ruined Careers, you’ll notice on your left the movie that stopped John Hughes’ directorial career in its tracks. Faced with a choice between making this film or HOME ALONE, he handed one script over to his protégé Chris Columbus and kept this one for himself. Ten years later, he’s still feeling the sting. The film is your typical treacly retread of PAPER MOON with a con artist father/daughter team, but it’s so overtly slick and hollow that even the people who made MRS. DOUBTFIRE a hit couldn’t throw Hughes a bone. It’s because of choices like this that Jim Belushi is making direct-to-video sequels to K-9 these days.

10. THE PRINCE OF TIDES

Even when a vanity project turns out well -- DANCES WITH WOLVES comes to mind -- there’s something vaguely distasteful about it. When it goes spectacularly wrong, as in the case of Streisand’s “masterpiece” here, there is a snuff film sort of appeal to the whole thing. Pat Conroy’s novel may have been a southern gothic soap opera, but it was a rippingly told one, with some real meat to it. Streisand is completely out of her depth here as a director, and the attention she pays to herself is mind-boggling. On about the 200th close-up of her legs or her fingernails, I wanted to run screaming up the aisle and dive through the screen, just to make the voices in my head stop. That’s the kind of endurance test this film is unless you’re just completely in love with Barbra. If so, then have at it; better you than me.

John Turturro and John Goodman, BARTON FINK

Goodman’s performance in this film only works if Turturro’s does. Much like FIGHT CLUB this year, this film deals with a fractured psyche, with each actor giving voice to one part of a complex whole. These two spend the whole film wrestling, both verbally and physically, and the disparity between them in size as well as volume and intensity pays off with some rich, surreal imagery.

Robert De Niro, CAPE FEAR

I may not be nuts about this remake -- way too overheated for my tastes -- but there’s no denying that De Niro is a wickedly funny Big Bad Wolf in the film. He is the reason Juliette Lewis looks so good in her one big moment, and he literally blows Nick Nolte off the screen in every single moment they have together. His attack on Illeana Douglas is still one of the most horrific acts of the decade, and Max Cady deserves to loom large in nightmares for years to come.

Andrew Strong, THE COMMITMENTS

I remember when this film came out; all the buzz was about this amazing fat Joe Cocker-looking dude who could just sing his ass off. I remember hearing mumblings about him getting a recording contract. Mainly, I remember having to pick my jaw up off the floor when I finally saw the film and got a load of what should have been just as big a star-making performance as Julia Roberts’ turn in PRETTY WOMAN. This guy was amazing. He was Belushi in some ways, but his Cocker wasn’t just an impression. He had pipes. He summons thunder in this film as Deco. If time has muted the quality of this performance for you, do yourself the favor... go back and check it out. You’ll be glad you did.

Albert Brooks and Rip Torn, DEFENDING YOUR LIFE

Albert Brooks is one of the funniest wielders of sarcasm ever, but he meets his match here in Rip Torn, who seems to have been reborn with this role. Torn grounds the movie’s most absurd moments with his solid, no-bullshit sensibility, and he manages to exasperate Brooks in ways that no one has ever accomplished. Their give and take elevates this film from very funny to comic perfection.

Dominique Pinon, DELICATESSEN

Roberto Benigni wishes he was this guy, and he wishes he’d given this performance. This is the single best piece of silent film comedy captured onscreen this decade, with Lee Evans in FUNNY BONES coming in a close second. Pinon manages grace and pathos amidst the belly laughs, and makes the distasteful seem charming.

River Phoenix and Lili Taylor, DOGFIGHT

Anytime I’ve included more than one actor from a film on the performances list, it’s because of the way they worked together. In this case, these two had the difficult job of starting as far apart as possible and convincing us that they somehow forge a real and lasting bond over the course of one night. Phoenix may have been coming into his own in this film, but for Taylor, it was a coming out, an introduction, and she’s wonderful here. She has to endure the least flattering costuming I can imagine, but she is so real, so centered, and so passionate that she shines through. There’s one lovely moment in a coffee house when she sings for Phoenix that is just piercing. In that moment, you can imagine him suddenly seeing past her outside, straight into her soul, and falling in love.

Val Kilmer, THE DOORS

What actor wouldn’t want to immerse themselves in the decadence of a Jim Morrison? Kilmer took the opportunity and ran with it, transforming so completely that I’ve never been able to look at him the same since. He’s alternately childish, profound, riotously funny, and cruel, and he somehow remains charismatic throughout. By the time he shows up in that tub in Paris, it feels like a genuine loss to say goodbye to this Morrison.

Robin Williams, Jeff Bridges, Mercedes Reuhl, Amanda Plummer, and Michael Jeter, THE FISHER KING

I don’t have any idea how Terry Gilliam and Richard LaGravanese did it, but they somehow inspired all five of these actors to the best work of their careers. Robin Williams finally finds the perfect dramatic context for his rapid-style free association: schizophrenia. His mania hides real and wrenching pain, and Robin’s ice-blue eyes have never been more frightening. He’s matched for sheer intensity by Jeff Bridges, a name you’ll see on this list several times. He’s a raw nerve, completely open and exposed, and there are moments in the film when he is almost too painful to look at. Most of those occur when he’s making his way through the treacherous minefield of a relationship he shares with Reuhl. She’s great, a no-shit earth mother who loves in spite of herself, who knows better but feels anyway. Plummer, the woman Williams falls in love with, balances the vicious and the vulnerable, somehow turning the very act of being nasty into something endearing. The icing on the cake in the film is Michael Jeter’s showstopping turn as a homeless drag queen, funny because of the way he keeps his rumpled dignity about him, refusing to give in and become the cheap joke so many directors would have made him.

Richard E. Grant and Sandra Bernhard, HUDSON HAWK

Absolutely the most shameless Bond villains this decade, they’re also the best. These two completely overpower every scene they’re in. There’s nothing remotely human about either one of them, but that’s the point. Michael Lehmann’s one of the only guys besides Bruce Robinson to make proper use of the deranged Grant, and this is Bernhard’s best character work since THE KING OF COMEDY.

David Morse and Viggo Mortensen, THE INDIAN RUNNER

It’s not often that I’m too impressed by an actor to talk to them when we meet, but I was indeed humbled when I bumped into David Morse on the set of THE GREEN MILE. There’s something remarkably honest about his work stretching all the way back to his stint as Boomer on ST. ELSEWHERE. In Sean Penn’s debut film, Morse gets his very best role as a small-town sheriff who has to deal with his wild brother, just back from Vietnam and looking for trouble. Viggo Mortensen is terrifying as his fuse does a long, slow burn. The threat of violence hangs heavy between the two for the whole film, and when things do explode, there’s an inevitable beauty to it.

Kevin Costner, JFK

I think Oliver Stone was the perfect director to bully this great performance out of Costner. His Garrison is driven, fanatical even, a man trying to get a stranglehold on smoke. As he chases the White Rabbit of truth in the movie, the stress and strain of it really shows on him. His final summation, a half-hour monologue about the nature of America in the wake of its fallen father-king, is a mesmerizing performance piece, and when Costner makes the audacious choice to break the fourth wall, it makes the moment intimate, electric. It’s daring work, and it proves what Costner can do when he gives himself over to a great director.

Bruce Willis, THE LAST BOY SCOUT

I can’t really defend the movie as anything more than the guiltiest of pleasures, but Willis deserves props for one of the best hard-boiled performances I can remember, right up there with Mitchum in OUT OF THE PAST, a character who is the namesake for our own fallen comrade, Joe Hallenbeck. He’s filthy, beaten, broken in spirit, and he manages to make it all count even though the film’s basically a raunchy cartoon.

Jodie Foster, LITTLE MAN TATE

Consider this one a love letter from child to parent. Foster was, of course, a precocious child, a star before puberty, and she was raised by a single mother. Playing the mother of an exceptional child here, she manages to paint an amazing empathetic portrait of a person who isn’t perfect. There’s an abundance of love here, but there’s also anger and loneliness and guilt and even jealousy. Foster’s often accused of being too cerebral an actress, but this one’s straight from the heart.

Peter Weller, NAKED LUNCH

Weller does more than just mimic the distinctive voice of William Burroughs or his overly formal manner of dress. He taps directly into the alien spirit of the author, playing him as a freak uncomfortable in his human skin. When he starts hallucinating, it doesn’t seem remotely odd. No one’s going to get the Beat writers more right than this.

Richard Dreyfuss and Holly Hunter, ONCE AROUND

It’s not popular to say you liked Spielberg’s ALWAYS, but I did, and it was due in large part to the work of Dreyfuss and Hunter. If anything, they’re better together here. Lasse Hallstrom and Malia Scotch Marmo give them plenty of room to play in this film about an inappropriate couple and the pressures family places on them. Dreyfuss plays older than he is here, a man who’s obnoxious, pushy, vulgar, even unbearable, and he never makes any effort to soften or underplay the character. There’s a great moment between the two of them involving a 16mm projector that is as touching as any film moment I can think of. Hunter manages to make us feel she could fall for this man, flaws and all, and we see a real change in her because of him. She’s needy, but she’s real. If someone had been smart, they would have kicked off a new THIN MAN franchise with these two a decade ago. By now, the moment has passed, and chemistry like this is very much about a particular time and place.

Mimi Rogers, THE RAPTURE

Nothing else Rogers has done prepared me for this difficult, uncompromising piece of work. She is totally possessed here, out of her mind, and the film asks difficult questions about the line between faith and madness. It all hinges on us believing that Rogers believes what she’s doing and saying, no matter how irrational her views become. Rogers simply soars.

Crispin Glover, RUBIN & ED

The man’s insane, the film’s borderline unwatchable, but I am drawn to it like a moth to flame. Pure diseased brilliance.

Jason Patric and Jennifer Jason Leigh, RUSH

I can’t think of a better set of performances to describe as “doomed.” These two are both demanding actors, difficult but brilliant, and they seem to inspire each other in each scene. They are both intensely charismatic in the film. Patric’s all swagger and smooth, and JJL has a cornfed sexuality that is very appealing. They’re like match and gasoline together, though, and as soon as they connect, they begin to fall apart. It’s real hard to make me care about someone who is destroying themself, but both of these actors show us the helplessness inherent once in the midst of a serious drug binge. As they hit bottom, then find new bottom and hit again, they manage to keep our sympathy because of the one good thing we see in them both: their love for each other. That tightrope act is one that should have been rewarded by every award possible that year. Instead, this faint praise at this late date will have to do.

Bobcat Goldthwait, Tom Kinney, Florence Henderson, and Robin Williams, SHAKES THE CLOWN

Maybe it’s only after you’ve done stand-up comedy yourself that you can fully appreciate Bobcat Goldthwait’s nightmarish little gem, but I hope not. This is the best film about the cutthroat and terribly unfunny business of making people laugh that I’ve seen, and it gets off to a strong start with one of the decade’s most depraved extended moments featuring Florence Henderson as a mom who wakes up with Shakes the morning after a disastrous birthday party for her son. There’s no doubt it’s vile, but that’s the point. The film is about alcoholism and the unhappiness of many of these “funny” people, and Goldthwait the director is brave enough to let Goldthwait the performer look disgusting. Tom Kinney should have been the Joker, if you ask me. His performance as Shakes’ arch-enemy, Binky the Clown, is cutting and jet black. I am left helpless each time I see the intro to his afternoon kid’s show and hear him sing “Binky fever... catch it!” Robin Williams turns in a sterling cameo as a mime instructor who figures out that Shakes isn’t really a mime, and the scene simmers with real rage just under the surface level of laughs. Great, great work all around.

Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins, SILENCE OF THE LAMBS

I think that most of the praise heaped on this film -- not the best Hannibal Lechter film, if you ask me -- is because of the delicate balance between Foster and Hopkins in their performances. They are wonderful together, each of them giving and taking in turn, and the dance they do definitely elevates the material. In the end, I think of the film as an effective thriller that is never more than good, but the performances loom large.

Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon, THELMA & LOUISE

This was the last great Geena Davis role before Renny Harlin ruined her life, and it’s a shame. She was never sexier, never funnier, and never more fully alive on film than she was here. Playing off of Sarandon, who is both matronly and deeply desirable here, Davis hits bizarre grace notes that seem even more inspired when you look at the pedestrian work she’s done since. Overall, the film is too much of a cartoon for my tastes, taking too much of an oversimplified view of men as evil, but the two actresses keep dragging it towards something great whenever Ridley Scott gets out of their way and lets them control the film’s temperature. The two of them side-by-side in that convertible is definitely one of the most iconic images of the ‘90s.

“THE REN & STIMPY SHOW”

By this time, a definite style for the ‘90s was starting to assert itself. Even films that were from a recognizable genre were being written and performed with a higher degree of artistry than in the ‘80s. Slick was being replaced with challenging. The independent market was expanding, and the majors were having to change the way they made and sold films just to keep up. Overall, filmgoers were coming out as the winners as more and more artists started taking chances.

1. UNFORGIVEN

As potent a statement about the effects of violence on a soul as has ever been made by a major studio, this is also a perfect summation of the Western career of star/director Clint Eastwood. In some ways, I was raised to respond to this film, programmed to like it from an early age. I was exposed to Eastwood’s films by my father, a major fan, and I saw practically every western shown on TV during my childhood, also because of my father. The script that David Webb Peoples wrote for this film is an astonishingly moral piece of work, and it’s also to be admired for its simplicity. The film never has to reach for any big message; it’s all close to the surface, immediate, alive. Eastwood makes the most of his iconic imagery, and he manages to get great work out of his entire cast. The ending of this film still makes me shake when I see it. There’s something almost Biblical about the face Eastwood gives to pure wrath, absolute vengeance. For a film about acts so ugly, it is astonishing in its simple beauty, something Jack N. Green deserves high praise for. He never gives us the easy shots that we’ve seen in every film from Ford to now. Instead, he matches the potent emotion of the script with a visual style that seems to reach right into these people and lay their feelings up onscreen as color and motion.

2. A RIVER RUNS THROUGH IT

Speaking of beauty, this Robert Redford film is about as well-photographed as a movie can be, a reminder that first and foremost, the act of capturing an image on celluloid is a chemical process that depends on light. Redford and Phillippe Rousselot have managed to make a sculpture here, something that is almost alive. Richard Friedenberg did a wonderful job of adapting Norman Maclean’s slight, poetic novel, and the cast all brings solid, sincere life to their roles. There’s something fitting about Redford having directed Pitt in this role, since this is the closest Pitt has ever come to embracing his place as the Redford of his generation, playing the role Redford would have played 20 years earlier. The film has one of the most devastating last lines of dialogue ever, powerful and unforgettable.

3. GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS

The only reason this wasn’t praised more upon release is because no one saw it. I remember the rainy afternoon I spent at the multiplex, when I slipped into this after seeing something else that was hyped incredibly and had disappointed me. I expected nothing from James Foley’s adaptation of Mamet’s play, mainly because I couldn’t believe anyone capable of making the play work on film. I stand corrected. Foley found the heart of this thing, the cancerous evil heart of it, and he conducted it like a piece of bitter music, each of these amazing actors adding just the right note, just the right flourish. Juan Ruiz Anchia manages to give the film a hyperkinetic visual style that perfectly plays off the film’s already exaggerated verbal attack. It’s the best thing Anchia’s ever shot, I think, and I am curious how everyone pushed themselves on this picture. Maybe it’s just that we can all relate to this desperation on some level, this fear that we’re falling behind, not doing well enough. I don’t know anyone who can watch Jack Lemmon in this film without wincing in shared remembered pain.

4. HARD BOILED

The greatest pure action film of the decade. I’m not going to write much about it, mainly because words fail me. John Woo keeps turning the heat up over the course of the film, even after starting with that incredible tea room opening, and the final hospital sequence is absolutely as good as cinema gets. This film perfectly sums up the appeal of Chow Yun-Fat to me. He’s tough as nails, unflappable, but he’s never a superhero. He always seems real, even in the most incredible moments, and that is the key to why the audience loves him so much. I can watch this film anytime and it never fails to please me on every level.

5. THE WATERDANCE

Sometimes you have to give a film credit just because it manages to surprise you so completely. That’s the case with this film by Neal Jimenez and Michael Sternberg, directing from Jimenez’s highly autobiographical script. The film deals with Joel Garcia, an author who finds himself a quadriplegic, confined to a wheelchair, sentenced to therapy and treatment and disability for the rest of his life. What sounds like a made-for-TV movie about one man’s inspirational journey is instead a touching, funny, heartfelt film that never once gives in to self-pity. It maintains a tough, adult edge, and it doesn’t play to types. The other men in the same ward as Joel are given vivid, interesting personalities. One of the most noteworthy aspects of the film is the relationship between Joel and Anna, his married lover, portrayed memorably by Helen Hunt. There’s real erotic heat between them, and their sex scenes are honest and explicit. The film manages to be that rare tale of triumph of the spirit that doesn’t have to pander to be transcendent.

6. HUSBANDS AND WIVES

This is the last great serious Allen film. It’s also the most bitter, angry piece of writing he’s ever done. This film almost feels like an early test run for the Dogme 95 aesthetic that Lars Von Triers and others adopted late in the decade. It’s stark, shot in a handheld style that made some audiences run for the doors when it came out. I thought it lent the film an immediacy that was matched by the intense performance work from all involved. Knowing that Farrow’s marriage to Allen was dissolving even as the film shot makes it an even more harrowing viewing experience now.

7. THE CRYING GAME

Neil Jordan’s original screenplay for this film is smart, sly, and political in all sorts of unexpected ways. It is also far richer than one would expect based on all the chatter in ‘92 about the film’s “secret.” This wasn’t the same thing as THE SIXTH SENSE; it wasn’t just some clever grace note at the end that gave the audience one last goose. No, the “secret” here was a major thread of the film, one of the most important things about it, the identity of one of the characters. After you know the secret, though, the film is still full of surprises and texture, and that’s what makes it great. If it was just a simple bait and switch, the film wouldn’t hold up. Stephen Rea is at his hangdog best in the film, and Jordan needed to make this film to redeem himself for a series of misfires like WE’RE NO ANGELS and HIGH SPIRITS. I’m glad he reached this turning point and handled it with such grace and intelligence. The rest of the decade’s been better as a result.

8. MALCOLM X

Absolutely the best overall film that Spike Lee has made so far, this is also my favorite Denzel Washington performance. The film does a knockout job of painting Malcolm as the enigma he was, never taking the easy way out in portraying him, but instead offering him with all his weaknesses and faults intact. In many ways, I respect Malcolm X more than I do Dr. King. He wore his struggle for his soul on the outside, embracing those contradictions in himself that made him human. He admitted to racist feelings even as he called for an end to racism. He admitted to his imperfect past even as he worked to better himself. He admitted his anger and his desire for violence even as he worked towards peace. This film could have been a stately memorial to the man, airless and antiseptic, but Lee is too good a filmmaker for that, and he delivers a rich, complex film here that can serve as a fitting introduction to a great, great man for future generations, the highest praise I can offer a film of this kind.

9. RESERVOIR DOGS

The first time I heard of this film, I was working at a laserdisc store in the valley. An actor, a regular customer of mine, came in with a copy of the RESERVOIR DOGS script and showed me the inside front page. There was a list of films and actors there that Quentin Tarantino credited with “inspiring” the film. The actor wanted me to help him find as many of those films or actors as I could to help him prepare for his audition as Nice Guy Eddie. In exchange, he made me a copy of the script to read. I filed it away as something to keep my eyes out for, and a year and a half later, I sat with three friends in an almost empty theater, stunned and amazed by the ferocity of Tarantino’s film. As we left, we were all buzzing, excited by what we’d seen. The film disappeared from theaters quickly, but word on it was starting to spread, and when it finally hit video, it became a cult item. By now, every film geek worth his salt has seen the film and had the arguments about whether QT “stole” from CITY ON FIRE or not and debated about whether Mr. Pink gets killed or not, and some of the film’s zing is definitely gone for me; familiarity does indeed breed contempt. Still, I remember what it was like to discover it on my own, before anyone could tell me what to think of it, and I like to think that part of what I felt in that theater was the shock of recognition: here at last was a filmmaker who was resolutely one of us.

10. A GRAND DAY OUT

Nick Parks is a genius. All of his Wallace and Gromit films are masterworks. This first one is my least favorite of the three, but that’s like saying that my left leg is my least favorite limb. These works are all vital, essential treasures.

1. THE PLAYER

A fun Altman effort, even if I think it’s a little too broad, the mystery a little too forced for me to call it a truly great film. This is definitely one of the smartest films to skewer Hollywood, and it does it with far more panache than such wannabe efforts as SWIMMING WITH SHARKS or the venal ACTION. Part of the reason Altman’s film works is because he recognizes that there’s nothing decent about this behavior, nothing admirable, and he doesn’t make the mistake of trying to convince us that Griffin Mills is better than he behaves. Instead, Altman tells us that these people are exactly as terrible as they appear to be. In some ways, this film isn’t remotely funny, and that’s the kind of comedy Altman makes best.

2. TWIN PEAKS: FIRE WALK WITH ME

I hated this film when I initially saw it, and I still don’t know why I went back and took a second look at it. I’m glad I did, though, because I think it’s a work of power and haunting beauty. It’s the most frightening, depressing thing David Lynch has ever done, making its points about the horrible face that America wears behind closed doors even more effectively than BLUE VELVET. This is a no-apologies horror film, something I wasn’t prepared for when I initially went to see it. I wanted something that picked up on the surreal, almost funny vibe of the TV show, and instead Lynch refused to give us any easy emotional outs with the film. He hits the audience hard right from the start, and as we watch the last few days of Laura Palmer, there’s an awful sense of inevitability to the whole thing. We know she’s going to die. We know how. We know when. We know where. Yet we’re not able to stop it or change it. Instead, we watch her as she is slowly cornered by the horrible primal evil of Bob. Knowing Bob’s true identity only makes the film more godawful to observe, more painful to suffer through. The first time I saw it, I didn’t realize that the pain wasn’t because it’s a bad film, but rather because it’s a great one.

3. BATMAN RETURNS

Strap in, kids. I’ve got a lot to say about this deeply misunderstood film. Upon its initial release, BATMAN RETURNS was deemed a commercial disappointment, and the general public seemed to feel that, in some way, Tim Burton had made a mistake, or had “ruined” the BATMAN sequel. I was a fan even then, and my love of the film has only grown in the years since. However, even with films I am fond of, I force myself to take long breaks between viewings. The last time I watched BR was in early ‘95, on laserdisc. After that, it sat on a shelf, just waiting for me to find the right time to pick it back up and re-examine its special wonders. The release of Joel Schumacher’s epic BATMAN IN RUBBER seemed to be the right time.

Boy, am I glad I did. BATMAN RETURNS was a whole new film for me, and a better one than ever before. This was the first time I truly picked up on what I believe the purpose of the film is. It’s something much bigger than just making a “cool superhero movie.” In fact, I think the last thing on Burton’s mind was telling a typical action story. Instead, this is a tribute to German Expressionism, and a chance to examine the fragmentation of personality. It’s a witty, multi-leveled screenplay that reveals greater riches the deeper the viewer digs, and there are any number of greatish performances to choose from. Of course, there’s Michael Keaton at the heart of the thing. Let me first say that I’m no great admirer of the original 1989 BATMAN, having felt it was a case of missed potential. In particular, I never felt that Keaton really clicked with his dual role. By contrast, his work in the sequel is bold, cool, and confident. His performance reveals a man who has forgotten how to effectively be Bruce Wayne. He’s not really alive until he puts on the Batsuit and goes to work. He is truly losing his grip on “normal” life, and he doesn’t seem to mind in the least. A common criticism of the film is that it’s not really about Batman... but that’s not true. Not at all. In fact, every character in this movie is in some way a dark, perverted mirror of the various fragments of Bruce/Batman’s shattered personality.

There’s The Penguin... left without parents to rot, planning revenge on the forces that be. Wayne works his parental loss out nightly, and that’s really all The Penguin is doing. They simply act out in very different ways. In the first scene of The Penguin on TV, Bruce is shaken by his story. When Alfred asks why, Bruce can only mumble, “I hope he finds his parents.” There’s also a sense that Bruce does not “belong” among normal people anymore. He seems uncomfortable with the most mundane things. He’s as much a freak on the inside as The Penguin is on the outside. Danny DeVito does some of the finest work of his career here, and Stan Winston’s brilliant makeup helps him in large part. There’s no doubt that this particular incarnation of The Penguin waddled out of the mind of Tim Burton... even without seeing his sketches of the character, I can guess exactly what they looked like. This is a fantastic realization of one of Tim’s ideas, brought to life. It’s a wicked reimagining of the character, and unlike the changes Joel Schumacher has made to comic continuity, there’s a reason for it. Burton’s work always deals with outsiders, characters on the fringe, and The Penguin is a signature creation. It’s hard to believe that anyone could just call him “the bad guy” of the piece after the haunting opening sequence, one of the finest five minute segments of Tim’s career as a filmmaker so far. Like a dark, twisted Moses, the baby Cobblepot is set afloat, only to be taken in by... penguins in the sewers?! That’s the first hint that this is not going to be some safe, predictable comic book ride.

Catwoman, or Selina Kyle, is a totally different side of Batman’s personality, reflected back and distorted. The timid Kyle really comes into her own following her trauma, finding a voice and a power that she would have never had the nerve to claim as her own if not for Max Shreck’s actions. She is clearly the side of Batman that gets off on the whole thing, and I don’t mean that flippantly. If you really watch Batman in this movie, he loves his toys and his gadgets. Given the choice between the stairs or his funky Iron Maiden elevator chute, he takes the chute. After all... that’s why he built it, right? I can believe this particular Bruce Wayne is the kind of guy who would spend the time and the money to build all these bizarre, almost fetishistic items. As much as Schumacher wanted to make the “kinky” Batman, a sculpted butt does not signify kink. It’s behavior, the psychology of what makes these people tick. That’s why Bruce and Selina are so drawn to one another. They recognize something in each other, some sort of strange energy. Just as much as it attracts them, it also drives them apart. The “love” scene set on the couch in Wayne Manor is smart and funny because it acknowledges the double life they’re leading, with them wanting to give in completely, but with their wounds keeping them apart. The very best moment in the movie is at Shreck’s costume ball, when the only two people to show up without masks are Selina and Bruce, although the argument could be made that those are their masks... that they are only really themselves as Catwoman and Batman. As the two of them dance, we see that Selina is holding on to the last bit of her sanity as best she can, and that she really wants to do what she sees as “good” by killing Shreck. Bruce tries to talk her out of it, and the two of them accidentally end up echoing some dialogue they had said to each other earlier in their other personas. “A kiss can be even deadlier if you mean it...” Bruce slips, and there is a moment, wonderfully performed by Keaton and Pfeiffer, of pure recognition. Bruce pulls her to himself, and as tears fill her eyes, she says, torn apart by the thought, “Does this mean we have to start fighting?” There has been no more human or naked moment in any of the films so far.

Finally, there’s Shreck, the “extra” villain. I’ve heard people say that he’s useless, that he adds nothing to the film. Yet, he manages to mirror another part of Bruce, the businessman. Even though Wayne seems to be a decent sort, it’s hard to be a billionaire and be completely clean. Bruce manages to stay above the daily dirt of his business empire, detached and therefore “innocent.” Shreck, on the other hand, revels in his power to buy and sell practically anyone or anything. His manipulations of Gotham politics and money are in direct opposition to Bruce’s hands-off quality. He is exactly what Bruce could become with just a little push. So is Catwoman, and so is The Penguin. The fact that each of these characters cuts so close is what really fuels Batman in this film. He may not recognize or acknowledge what really scares him about this trio, but we can.

The creepiest moment in the whole thing is when Selina has just trashed Shreck’s department store, and she comes tumbling out to find Batman and The Penguin already exchanging threats. They’re alone, and they’re all three able to be honest about who and what they are. The moment is interrupted by the explosion of the store, but for just a moment, there is no one else in Gotham. We’re truly deep inside Batman’s warped head. Tim’s visuals in this film are extraordinary, and Bo Welch, his production designer deserves as much of the credit as Stefan Czapsky, his photographer. It’s appropriate that the film is set during the Christmas season, because it’s chilly, through and through. These people are all broken, in pain, and acting out. The “normal” people are just as freaky in their own ways. There’s the shallow, vapid Ice Princess, the ineffectual Mayor, and even Alfred, frustrated and growing impatient with the nightly prowls of his employer. There is humor here, but it’s the kind that makes you uncomfortable even as you laugh. Burton must have read every single review for the original BATMAN, because he addresses some of the most common complaints about that film. One bit of dialogue in particular has Wayne taking shots at Alfred for letting Vicki Vale into the Batcave, one of the first movie’s most unrepentantly stupid moves. There’s little oddball touches, like Batman in the Batcave answering the phone with his mask still on (just how well does one hear through several inches of rubber, anyway?) or Bruce Wayne doing a scratch on the CD he uses to ruin The Penguin. They’re small, though, not like the massive punchlines of the first film. And there’s genuine pathos, too. The final moments between Selina/Catwoman and Batman/Bruce are agonizing. Each of them desperately wants and needs a human connection, but Selina manages to recognize that she’s too far gone to turn back. Rather than drag Bruce down with her, she seems to sacrifice herself, taking Shreck out for good. The fact that Bruce pulls off his mask when he faces her shows him reaching out, trying to be “normal,” trying for what he thinks everyone else has. The rejection destroys him, though, and sets the stage for a darker, even more troubled Batman that never surfaced, thanks to the guiding hand of Warner execs and the magic of Goldsman/Schumacher. It’s a shame... if Burton had kept at it, who knows where he would have taken the character? He proves conclusively with this film that he understands the complexity and psychological richness inherent to the character. It’s a shame we’ll never know how much further he could have gone.

4. SCENT OF A WOMAN

To be honest, I think Martin Brest’s earlier films GOING IN STYLE and MIDNIGHT RUN are better overall, but there’s no denying the crowd-pleasing nature of this story about honor and friendship and integrity and character, and there’s no denying the sheer power of Al Pacino’s outstanding Oscar winning performance as Col. Frank Slade. I wish Chris O’Donnell was able to truly match Pacino in some of the film’s biggest moments, but he’s not. He simply doesn’t have the fire that some of his peers could have brought to the role. The supporting cast makes some strong impressions, with Gabrielle Anwar serving as an appropriately ethereal object of desire, James Rebhorn and Philip Seymour Hoffman both laying groundwork for their later roles in THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY, and Bradley Whitford honing his act for every weasel role he’s played between here and TV’s THE WEST WING. The movie’s way too long, but there’s no one subplot or stop along the way that I would edit. Instead, Brest and screenwriter Bo Goldman just needed to reign in their ambitions a little bit, tighten the whole thing up. What is a ferociously entertaining film could have ended up a minor classic.

5. LORENZO’S OIL

I think George Miller is sadly underrated as a filmmaker, and of all his films, this is the one in most dire need of rediscovery by audiences. It’s a powerful emotional experience, draining even, but it’s undeniable. Part of the film’s strength is visual, which is no surprise. Miller has always been without flaw as a visualist in his films, and his collaboration with cinematographer John Seales pays off with rich, vibrant imagery. The real magic of this film, though, is the performance work throughout, and Miller proves himself to be a gifted director of actors here, something he had never really done before. Nick Nolte and Susan Sarandon are both suitably strong as the parents of Lorenzo, the afflicted boy whose disease sends his parents spiraling into the world of research, clinical studies, private funding, and indifference. Zack O’Malley Greenberg is the main actor credited as Lorenzo, although he shares the credit with five other performers (Noah Banks, Michael Haider, Billy Amman, E.G. Daly, and Cristin Woodworth), all of whom were necessary to help portray the torturous conditions Lorenzo underwent in order to help cure his A.L.D., a rare condition for which there was no treatment when he was diagnosed. Miller began his professional life as a doctor, something I didn’t know or even suspect until he started doing press for this film. He was drawn to this story because of some of the powerful, damning statements it makes about the body politic of the medical community. People dismissed this film sight unseen as a weepy story about a sick boy. Instead, Miller turns this medical-based drama into a film that is every bit as exciting as his classic MAD MAX series, albeit in a very different way.

1. TOYS

I genuinely find it puzzling that this was such a highly regarded script for so many years before finally ending up onscreen under the guidance of Barry Levinson. The things that are good about the film -- the production design by Ferdinando Scarfiotti, the photography by Adam Greenburg -- are things that couldn’t have existed in the script, and the script itself is one of the film’s most glaring trouble spots. So why all the excitement all those years? Maybe Barry just cracked under the pressure of having to bring such a highly regarded piece of writing to the screen finally, having it pass from being a “what if” to a concrete thing. Whatever the reason, he screwed the pooch here with an almost gleeful intensity, delivering a film that is unrelentingly awful from end to end. At no point does the film even come close to working, no matter how hard Michael Gambon, Joan Cusack, Donald O’Connor, or Robin Williams tries. It’s not funny, its bombastic “points” are made with all the subtlety of a fart in church, and that whimsy problem I mentioned a while ago is in full effect here. What is supposed to be childlike and wondrous comes across onscreen as juvenile and confusing. There’s really no reason anyone should ever have to see this thing again.

2. MR. SATURDAY NIGHT

I don’t know, doctor... all I can remember is Billy Crystal, and he’s doing this shtick, and I remember David Paymer and Helen Hunt, and then some time passes and Billy’s older and then... oh, god, it’s coming back to me now... the old-age makeup. THE OLD-AGE MAKEUP! IT’S HORRIBLE! OH, GOD, AND HE DOES SHTICK AS THE OLD GUY, AND... AND... OH, GOD, MAKE IT STOP! MAKE THE MEMORIES STOP! PLEASE! IT’S TOO HORRIBLE TO BEAR!

We will take a brief break as Moriarty is medicated severely.

Thank you for your patience.

3. MEDICINE MAN

Sean Connery and John McTiernan are two-thirds of what should have been a winning formula. There’s a good idea here, and a character with some potential, but they are helpless in the path of Lorraine Bracco, who singlehandedly guarantees that no matter what other efforts are made in this film’s favor, there is no way it is going to work. She is almost indescribably horrible in the film. She is a black hole of talent, sucking all talent out of those around her in the film. By the end of the movie’s running time, you will beg for death: hers, yours... doesn’t really matter, just as long as the damn thing stops.

4. COOL WORLD

I wouldn’t call myself a rabid Ralph Bakshi fan, but I respect the guy, and I can appreciate his place in the history of one of my favorite art forms, the animated film. That’s one of the many reasons this film felt like such a kick in the balls when it came out. It was also because after his cameo in THELMA & LOUISE, Brad Pitt sure seemed like a star on the rise, and this film was almost bad enough to stop that rise cold. Kim Basinger gives a startlingly unfunny and unlikeable performance as Holli Would, both in animated and live-action form. Gabriel Byrne sleepwalks through the film. The live-action is shot in a low-budget, half-assed manner, and the animation all feels rushed, cheap. I’ve heard some wild stories about the making of the film, and the games played by both Paramount and Bakshi. Whatever the truth of it all is, it doesn’t matter. The audience is the ultimate loser here. The one genuinely cool moment in the film occurs when Steven Worth shows up as a customer in a comic book store. Worth is a major defender of animation, a key player at Spumco these days, and a genuinely good guy who is well known among members of the animation community in LA. It’s a neat cameo that can’t even begin to salvage a dreadful film.

5. HOME ALONE 2: ALONE IN NEW YORK

I’m no fan of the overly slick, painfully manipulative original HOME ALONE, but it didn’t make me sick the way the second one did. This is a mean-spirited movie, sadistic and cruel, and the idea that it was considered family entertainment is genuinely depressing. This is from John Hughes “getting kicked in the balls is the height of wit” phase, and it’s a real stinker of a script, obviously churned out over the course of a lost weekend for some quick cash. There’s not a sincere beat in this thing.

6. ALIEN3

This film would make my list if only for the way it opens, betraying every bit of emotional investment I had in the series after Cameron’s triumphant ALIENS. The movie starts by killing two major characters in their sleep, negating the worth of the previous movie’s explosive climax, negating the fact that I had cared. It’s one of the most contemptuous acts I’ve ever seen committed in a franchise from a major studio, and it’s certainly symptomatic of this film as a whole. I’ve heard all the stories about how Fincher got screwed on this film, but he has to shoulder some of the blame. The movie is ugly, poorly acted, with awkward action scenes that are nearly impossible to follow, and there’s not one person in the film that we can sympathize with. There’s no recovery from something this bad, and it killed one of the most potentially fascinating science-fiction series of the past twenty years.

7. RADIO FLYER

One of the phoniest films about childhood I’ve ever seen, this was taken over during production by Richard Donner, who replaced the writer of the film, David Mickey Evans. I have no idea if Evans would have made a better film than this, but if he was shooting the same script, I doubt it. This film also features one of the few genuinely bad performances by Tom Hanks in his whole career. He looks like he shot this on a lunch break from a better movie. The wraparound scenes that he appears in make no sense, and don’t illuminate a damn thing about the story or the characters. I genuinely have no idea why some people speak fondly about this one on any level.

8. STOP! OR MY MOM WILL SHOOT

Even AB King has to recognize this as the nadir of Stallone’s career, the darkest hour he will ever face as a performer. This can’t be anyone's idea of a good time. A good friend of mine once told me that “every film, no matter what you think of it, is someone’s favorite movie ever made.” God, I hope that’s not true, because if it is, then I am genuinely scared of whatever lost soul names this as his.

9. CHAPLIN

Sir Richard Attenborough is a pompous, boring filmmaker, and I dare anyone to argue the point with me. Use examples. I submit this bloated sack of crap as Exhibit A for my side. He’s managed to make a film about Charlie Chaplin that never manages once to be either (A) funny or (B) touching. Wow. Nice work. He genuinely doesn’t exhibit a single glimmer of understanding regarding the work of Chaplin, and letting a pedestrian hack like this make a film about one of the medium’s giants seems disrespectful, to say the least.

10. THE BODYGUARD

This film is almost too funny to include among the year’s worst, but in the end, it is dragged down by the sheer pretentiousness of the whole enterprise. This is hysterically campy, with Whitney Houston almost coming across as a drag queen’s impression of Houston rather than the real article. It’s not her fault; it’s that 15 year old script that must have seemed stale when Steve McQueen almost made it. That damn song is the only reason this thing hung around as long as it did.

Eric Goldberg and Robin Williams, ALADDIN

You have to credit Goldberg alongside Williams, since it was the merging of the visual and the aural that made The Genie so effective. Overall, ALADDIN is more of a rollercoaster ride than a classic fairy tale, and it works well as a boy’s Disney film, providing a different flavor than the previous year’s BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. The Genie is a remarkable character, genuinely entertaining, but in the end, it may have led to the movie-star dominated films that Disney’s made ever since. They used to cast the best voice for the character, but now seem to go out of their way to get Eddie Murphy or Kevin Kline or Demi Moore or Jeremy Irons. I’m sorry such a great performance kicked off such a mixed bag of a trend.

Harvey Keitel, BAD LIEUTENANT

Bad, indeed. I am actually torn about what I think of this movie. It’s deeply flawed, and I’m not sure I’d even call it good, but Keitel’s work here is so fucking crazy, so completely without boundaries, that you have to acknowledge the film as a work of art, potent and toxic and affecting. His quest for some sort of grace is riveting, and his final standoff with a vision of Christ in a church is one of Keitel’s towering moments, one of the reasons he will be remembered.

Michelle Pfeiffer, BATMAN RETURNS

Has any actress created any more indelibly erotic image in any mainstream film this decade? This is some of Pfeiffer’s most textured work, and the fact that it’s in a comic book movie only makes it cooler.

Tim Robbins, BOB ROBERTS

When we talk about memorable movie monsters from this decade, Bob Roberts must be on the list. Tim Robbins understands the manipulative power of media, and this film makes some damning points. His reptilian lead performance perfectly sums up everything he is trying to say, and seems almost deceptively simple.

Robert Downey, Jr., CHAPLIN

Attenborough may not understand Chaplin, but Downey does, and he gave his all in an effort to create something special, something timeless. For many people, this served as a wake-up call regarding Downey and his gifts. As he flounders in his personal life now at the end of the decade, it’s good to look back at this and realize why he is someone worth holding out hope for. If he can find his way back, there is true genius in him. Let’s hope this isn’t our only glimpse of it.

Jaye Davison, THE CRYING GAME

Davison hasn’t had any career to speak of since this film (I’m still trying to forget STARGATE, so give me a break, okay?), and it’s a shame. Davison has an incredibly difficult role, since he can’t change the timber of his performance after the revelation of the film’s “secret.” That would be phony. As a result, he’s not allowed the affectations of drag in the film’s first half. He doesn’t get to camp it up and play it over the top. Davison simply is a woman, and there’s nothing that gives away the truth of the matter until that stunning reveal shot. The biggest revelations Davison makes are still emotional, though, as he falls into an unlikely relationship with Rea, and it’s the courage he shows there that marks this as truly great work.

Bruce Willis and Sydney Pollack, DEATH BECOMES HER

These two men are both howlingly funny, stealing the thunder of Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn in what should have been their film. I think I like this movie more than most people do, and a big part of that is the spineless character Willis plays. He has the funniest scream I’ve ever heard in a film, and when he reacts to the movie’s big cartoon gags, he makes them seem more real because of how real he is. Sydney Pollack also delivers the comic goods in his cameo. It’s a memorable one that offers further proof that Pollack may have missed his true calling by staying behind the camera more often than in front of it.

The entire cast, GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS

There’s no other film on this list where literally every major player delivers at the peak of their powers, but this is that special case, that perfect gem. Al Pacino, Ed Harris, Alan Arkin, Kevin Spacey, and Jonathan Pryce are all outstanding. Each note, each beat, each line delivered with relish, with zest. There’s two performances that even go above and beyond the exacting standards set by the rest of the cast, though. First, there’s Alec Baldwin, coming in for an extended cameo, and turning in career-best work. He is ferocious, amazing, and he’s never even tried anything else like it. He is surpassed, though, by the brilliant Jack Lemmon, who is shattering as Shelly “The Machine” here. I’ve seen several actors play Willy Loman, but I’ve never seen any of them come as close as Lemmon does to summing up the desperate sickness that infects career salesmen. Lemmon is pathetic, sad beyond words here, and watching him as he squirm on the hook over the course of several major sequences is like watching a loved one die slowly of something horrible. It literally pulls at you, makes you ache. In particular, there is a moment when Shelly realizes that he is officially finished with his career, when all the mistakes and all the sales that got away and all the backstabbing and sniping and namecalling all adds up and climbs on top of him, and he simply folds, collapses from within... it’s as fine as film acting can ever be expected to be.

Chow Yun-Fat, HARD BOILED

When I try to explain to someone who is unfamiliar with his work why I consider Chow Yun-Fat one of the greatest working movie stars, it’s this film I point to time and time again. He’s got that effortless charisma we demand of our biggest stars, and he manages to humanize the insane gunplay of the film. Watching him make his way through the carnage of the finale with that baby in his care is one of cinema’s purest joys.

Sydney Pollack, HUSBANDS AND WIVES

As funny as Pollack is in DEATH BECOMES HER, this performance proves that he’s no joke. He is horrifically real here, sad and angry and human, and his anger is a force of nature, something to be avoided at all costs. I don’t know much about Pollack’s personal life, but if he was drawing on experience to tap these raw, raging emotions, then I sincerely hope he is past that, since no one should have to live like this.

Tom Hanks, A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN

The start of Hanks’ current winning streak, this may be my favorite performance of his. He’s alternately disgusting, hilarious, and real. It’s great work, without ego, and it is a reminder of just how prodigious his gifts as an actor truly are.

Denzel Washington, MALCOLM X

As stated earlier, this is definitely my favorite work by Denzel. To capture all the contradictions of Malcolm X, to vanish so completely into the role that a side by side comparison of actor and subject is almost impossible to tell apart... that’s the accomplishment Washington pulls off. His earnest delivery has never seemed more appropriate, and his slow-simmering rage has never seemed more potent.

Russell Crowe, ROMPER STOMPER

This guy still seems like a movie star on the rise, and that surprises me to no end. When I first saw this film, I was sure he was going to break out and be one of the biggest male stars on the planet overnight. I’m guessing it’s the uncompromisingly bleak nature of this material that kept him from being huge already, but that’s a shame. If you haven’t seen this movie, you owe it to yourself to hunt it down and check it out. There’s a race riot sequence, nearly twenty minutes long, that will leave you shaken. If it doesn’t, you don’t have a pulse. Let’s hope Crowe taps even a quarter of the intensity on display here for GLADIATOR next summer.

Al Pacino, SCENT OF A WOMAN

The only thing that gives me pause about this performance is that it pretty much set the stage for everything else Al Pacino has done since. I loved “Hoo-ha!” as much as the next guy when I first saw it, but it’s getting old at this end of the decade. It’s not fair to dismiss this work based on imitation, though. When it came out, I saw audiences come to their feet applauding him during his big scene in front of the school at the film’s end. It’s easy to understand why.

Clint Eastwood and Gene Hackman, UNFORGIVEN

I don’t know who scares me more in this film. Eastwood is like the living embodiment of revenge, a ghost, all coiled steel and cold fury. Hackman, on the other hand, is irrational hate, a little man with a quick gun, and his astounding scene with Richard Harris and Saul Rubinek in the town jail is what won him his well-deserved Oscar here. Even amidst such pure evil, though, Hackman finds the little human grace notes that make him real, like Little Bill’s delight in working on his house despite the fact that it’s completely structurally unsound. I believe in this bad guy, which makes him all the more frightening.

Eric Stoltz, Wesley Snipes, and William Forsythe, THE WATERDANCE