Widescreen Awards: The Winners

And here they are: my favorite performances and technical achievements of the year. Click on the images for the full-write ups. The nominees are presented in list format at the bottom of this post with a slightly amended (including one addition and one upgrade) Top 20 from the one I started out with.

The Top Twenty Films of 2010

20. "Cairo Time" (Canada, dir. Ruba Nadda)

19. "Black Swan" (USA, dir. Darren Aronofsky)

18. "Toy Story 3" (USA, dir. Lee Unkrich)

17. "Salt" (USA, dir. Phillip Noyce)

16. “The Fighter” (USA, dir. David O. Russell)

15. "Inception" (USA, dir. Christopher Nolan)

14. "The Chaser" (South Korea, dir. Na Hong-jin)

13. "Night Catches Us" (USA, dir. Tanya Hamilton)

12. "True Grit" (USA, dir. Joel and Ethan Coen)

11. "Splice" (Canada, dir. Vincenzo Natali)

10. "I Am Love" (Italy, dir. Luca Guadagnino)

9. "Restrepo" (USA, dir. Tim Hetherington and Sebastian Junger)

8. "Animal Kingdom" (Australia, dir. David Michôd)

7. "A Prophet" (France, dir. Jacques Audiard)

6. "That Evening Sun" (USA, dir. Scott Teems)

5. "Secret Sunshine" (South Korea, dir. Lee Chang-dong)

4. "Enter the Void" (France/Germany/Italy, dir. Gaspar Noé)

3. "Tokyo Sonata" (Japan, dir. Kiyoshi Kurosawa)

2. "Mother" (South Korea, dir. Bong Joon-ho)

1. "The Social Network" (USA, dir. David Fincher)

Best Director

Bong Joon-ho (Mother)

David Fincher (The Social Network)

Luca Guadagnino (I Am Love)

Kiyoshi Kurosawa (Tokyo Sonata)

Gaspar Noé (Enter the Void)

Best Actor

Jesse Eisenberg (The Social Network)

Hal Holbrook (That Evening Sun)

Teruyuki Kagawa (Tokyo Sonata)

Tahar Rahim (A Prophet)

Édgar Ramírez (Carlos)

Best Actress

Jeon Do-yeon (Secret Sunshine)

Kim Hye-ja (Mother)

Jennifer Lawrence (Winter's Bone)

Natalie Portman (Black Swan)

Tilda Swinton (I Am Love)

Best Supporting Actor

Neils Arestrup (A Prophet)

Christian Bale (The Fighter)

Michael Fassbender (Fish Tank)

John Hawkes (Winter's Bone)

Ray McKinnon (That Evening Sun)

Best Supporting Actress

Melissa Leo (The Fighter)

Carrie Preston (That Evening Sun)

Charlotte Rampling (Life During Wartime)

Hailee Steinfeld (True Grit)

Jacki Weaver (Animal Kingdom)

Best Ensemble Performance

Shirley Henderson, Allison Janney, Ally Sheedy, Ciarán Hinds, Dylan Riley Snyder, Michael Lerner, Charlotte Rampling, Michael K. Williams, Paul Reubens, Rich Pecci (Life During Wartime)

Hal Holbrook, Raymond McKinnon, Carrie Preston, Mia Wasikowska, Walton Goggins, Barry Corbin, Dixie Carter (That Evening Sun)

Katie Jarvis, Kierston Wareing, Michael Fassbender and Rebecca Griffiths (Fish Tank)

Teruyuki Kagawa, Kyôko Koizumi, Yû Koyanagi, Kai Inowaki, Haruka Igawa and Kanji Tsuda (Tokyo Sonata)

Anthony Mackie, Kerry Washington, Jamara Griffin, Wendell Pierce, Jamie Hector and Amari Cheatom (Night Catches Us)

Best Original Screenplay

Bong Joon-ho and Park Eun-kyo (Mother)

Kiyoshi Kurosawa, Max Mannix and Sachiko Tanaka (Tokyo Sonata)

David Michôd (Animal Kingdom)

Vincenzo Natali, Antoinette Terry Bryant and Doug Taylor (Splice)

Todd Solondz (Life During Wartime)

Best Adapted Screenplay

Joel and Ethan Coen (True Grit)

Peter Craig, Ben Affleck and Aaron Stockard (The Town)

John Curran (The Killer Inside Me)

Aaron Sorkin (The Social Network)

Scott Teems (That Evening Sun)

Best Cinematography

Jeff Cronenweth (The Social Network)

Benoît Debie (Enter the Void)

Hong Kyeong-pyo (Mother)

Yorick Le Saux (I Am Love)

Martin Ruhe (The American)

Best Editing

Stuart Baird and John Gilroy (Salt)

Kirk Baxter and Angus Wall (The Social Network)

Marc Boucrot and Gaspar Noé (Enter the Void)

Lee Smith (Inception)

Juliette Welfling (A Prophet)

Best Art Direction

Roshelle Berliner and Matteo De Cosmo (Life During Wartime)

Thérèse DePrez, David Stein and Tora Peterson (Black Swan)

Guy Dyas, Frank Walsh and Larry Dias (Agora)

Jess Gonchor, Christina Ann Wilson and Nancy Haigh (True Grit)

Albrecht Konrad, David Scheunemann and Bernhard Henrich (The Ghost Writer)

Best Musical Score

John Adams (I Am Love)

Lee Byung-woo (Mother)

Clint Mansell (Black Swan)

Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross (The Social Network)

Hans Zimmer (Inception)

Best Sound Design

~ Enter the Void

~ Inception

~ The Social Network

Best Visual Effects

~ Enter the Void
~ Inception
~ The Social Network

Widescreen Awards: Director

For the second time in his relatively short career, Bong Joon-ho has taken a familiar genre and crafted a masterpiece (the other being 2005's serial killer drama "Memories of Murder"). Everything that he could possibly get right with Mother, he gets right. He even makes watching spilled water creep across the floor suspenseful. Bong is successful at balancing all the ingredients of his Hitchcockian stew — including truly funny character detail and a heartbreaking mother-son relationship — together for one of the most satisfying and unsettling films of 2010.

More than any film this year, The Social Network feels like it was conceived as one perfect whole. That's due in no small part to David Fincher. Many of his films have been flawlessly executed. Here, you can sense Fincher's fingerprints over every inch of film stock (or megapixel); and that's a good thing. It's one thing to have ratatattat dialogue (courtesy Aaron Sorkin); it's another to translate that into good cinema. All the while, Fincher holds onto the human element inside his story. It's not just about the birth of a new social network, but the new generation of people supporting that network.

Before I Am Love, Luca Guadagnino was a virtual unknown. As best I can tell, none of his previous films and documentaries have received U.S. distribution. Therefore, it's impossible to tell what he brought to the table previously, but "I Am Love" feels like the opening scene in a long and fruitful career. It's so full of life and vitality, and Guadagnino manages to extract natural performances from his actors while surrounding them in a preternaturally beautiful world.

Known foremost for his horror films ("Cure," "Pulse" and 2006's chilling "Retribution"), Kiyoshi Kurosawa has created one of the warmest, most rewarding films of the year with Tokyo Sonata. He's out-Capra'd Capra, but his happy ending is modulated by all the confusion and suffering that came before it. It's the kind of morality tale that only a horror director could conjure. And it works mostly because of how real the family at its center feels. The performances are so uniformly good that, by the time the melodrama kicks into high gear, the audience is too invested to question the strangeness of the film's final act. Finally, Kurosawa gets extra points for the piano recital, which sums up the point of the story with no words.

Eight years after his reprehensible (but awe-inspiring) "Irreversible," Gaspar Noé has returned to do the same thing all over again. This time, however, he (thankfully) upped the humanity quotient. Noé is a cinematic wizard. With Enter the Void, he stretches the bounds of what's possible in film while telling a captivating story. The audience is thrown into the worlds of both the living and the dead; and, like its main character, the viewer has no road map.

Honorable mention to Lee Chang-dong for the subtle beauty and compassion of Secret Sunshine; David Michôd for assembling an unexpectedly complex crime family in Animal Kingdom; and Tim Hetherington and Sebastian Junger for putting their camera and their audience in the middle of the fight for Korengal Valley in Restrepo.

Tomorrow look for the Widescreen Awards wrap-up, with the winners announcement and links to some of the great films available on Netflix Instant.

Widescreen Award: Actor

Jesse Eisenberg had a lot of things to factor into his performance as Mark Zuckerberg in The Social Network, the least of which was Mark Zuckerberg. Regardless of how closely hewn the fictional character is from its real-life counterpart, Eisenberg has crafted something for the ages. He's the self-made man who realizes too late (if you can call 26 "too late") all that he's lost. But it cuts deeper than the Jay Gatsby archetype. Eisenberg manages to convey obliviousness and self-awareness in equal measure; something that's characteristic of most twenty-somethings today. We bathe ourselves in ironies and yet very often miss what's signified.

Now in his 80s, Hal Holbrook is turning in some of the best performances of his six-decade-long career. First in 2007's "Into the Wild," last year in That Evening Sun and very likely (if the adaptation takes its cues from the novel's treatment of his character) in this year's "Water for Elephants." As Abner Meecham, Holbrook tackles a lot of weighty issues, from grief to obsolescence to the onset of senility, with grace. He paints a full picture of a man full of rage, regret and remorse. It would be easy to feel one way or the other about Abner, but Holbrook always keeps it in the grey.

Teruyuki Kagawa's performance in Tokyo Sonata feels so unlike a performance, that it's easy to miss how well he communicates the weariness of laid off office drone Ryūhei. So much of his character is wrapped up in body language. How the man carries himself reveals a great deal about his mental state, indeed, far more than the platitudes and lies that leave his lips. He also has an amazing sense of timing. Kurosawa uses physical humor — watch how Ryūhei picks himself up out of the gutter — to lighten what could've been an overwhelmingly melancholy story. Kagawa is more than up for the challenge.

The evolution of Malik from a vulnerable Arab convict to a mob don is at first inexplicable. It's only after the film is over that it dawns on you how far he's come. Tahar Rahim handles that transition — which is integral to A Prophet — beautifully, instilling a quiet intelligence in his character. Malik, and Rahim, know not to let one hand know what the other is doing. At the same time, Rahim lets the audience in enough that the character remains sympathetic amidst his brutality and cunning.

Édgar Ramírez's Carlos the Jackal is a consummate professional. Olivier Assayas' epic take on the terrorist/freedom fighter doesn't definitively answer the question of his loyalties, but one thing is clear from Ramírez's tightly-controlled performance. Carlos' first priority is himself. It's the through line in the performance, from a young, quick-witted charmer to an cruel, old has-been. Ramírez has to balance a lot of changes over the course of the film, but his focus is never lost.

Credit is also due Kim Yoon-seok who brings honesty and humor to his role as a pimp chasing down the serial killer who's been targeting his hookers in The Chaser. Alexander Siddig turns in a sensitive performance as Patricia Clarkson's escort-turned-love interest in Cairo Time. Once again, Song Kang-ho manages to be both charming and creepy as Jeon Do-yeon's unlikely lighthouse through the storm of Secret Sunshine.

Widescreen Award: Actress

Shin-ae's pain never feels like an actor's approximation. Even as the character spins off into concentric circles of grief -- first at the death of her husband and, later, her son -- Jeon Do-yeon never treats her performance in Secret Sunshine like a master's class. Even when Shin-ae truly becomes unmoored in her search for solace, Jeon never devolves into histrionics. Despite the strange places the film takes Shin-ae, it's still a very real depiction of the confusion that comes with such loss.



I've read that Bong Joon-ho picked Kim Hye-ja for the titular Mother because of her television persona as something of a June Cleaver. Not having that cultural context, the irony was lost on me. What wasn't lost in translation are the dark bonds between mother and son. Kim's face is so expressive; it tells you all that's to be said. Watch her face in the train station in the final minutes of the film. The walls all come crashing down and, yet, she's too strong to let them sit in ruin for long.



In Winter's Bone, Jennifer Lawrence disposes of precocious affectation right off the bat. Ree Dolly is deadly serious about finding her no-good father because she knows how daunting she and her young siblings' situation is. She's a force to be reckoned with, but Lawrence also tempers that determination with genuine fear. She is, after all, a kid. It's a delicate balance and the young actress pulls it off.



Even before the psychological torment overtakes Nina, Natalie Portman is a bundle of nerves in Black Swan. You can sense the gears grinding away in her head through cold stares and puffy eyes. The ambition, fear, jealousy, repression and weariness are all there long before the mirrors start summoning her inner demons out into the open. All she needed was that extra push -- a high-pressure role of a lifetime -- to send the whole roiling caldron bubbling to the surface.



Out of all the performances last year, Tilda Swinton's Emma in I Am Love has perhaps the most interesting arc. She starts the film as cold steel, too lost in the goings on of her home to register as a human being with emotions. And then the floodgates open. It'd be very easy to lose the performance among all the beauty of Luca Guadgnino's film. But Swinton is too good an actress to play window dressing. When her character feels pleasure, as in the prawn sampling, her whole body joins in the rapture. At the same time, there's a great continuity between Emma at the beginning and at the end. She's the same person, now set free.

And finally, a shout-out to some of the wonderful performances that couldn't possibly fit into five slots in such a rich year for lead actresses. Annette Bening and Julianne Moore have a natural chemistry in The Kids Are All Right that transcends sexual orientation. Geena Davis' potty-mouthed divorcee was one of the saving graces of the uneven Accidents Happen. Kyōko Koizumi brings tremendous warmth to Tokyo Sonata, standing strong for her sons as the world disintegrates around her. Sarah Polley, known for her subtle touch, is all ablaze with the spirit of discovery in Splice. As stupidly provocative as the film tries to be, Noomi Rapace is fearless and fascinating in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

Widescreen Awards: Supporting Actor

As prison-bound mob boss Cesar Luciani, Niels Arestrup starts off as an untouchable. He ends A Prophet, in true gangster flick form, as an empty shell of a man, deprived of all his power. Arestrup fills the space in between with a richness that's rarely found in this type of character. He's cold and remorseless, yet capable of trust. He's an unapologetic bigot, yet his protege and only true confidant is a "dirty Arab." It's a complex performance that never once feels forced.



Until the real Dicky Eklund shows up over the end credits, you're apt to think Christian Bale's performance is all bluster and bombast. Fortunately (or unfortunately), the genuine article is just as nutty as the carbon copy. Even so, Bale is the heart and soul of The Fighter. He's the main source of conflict in the film, but he's also the only source of redemption. Beyond the impressive external performance (the gaunt appearance and involuntary tics of a junkie), Bale fills his Eklund with a rich internal life, as well.



Make no mistake: Michael Fassbender's Connor, in Fish Tank, has been and always will be a monster. Fassbender seduces the audience along with his 15-year-old Lolita, and he does so while pretending to be a good, well-meaning guy. Even after his secret life -- behind a picket fence, no less -- is revealed, you can't help but think of him only as a pitiful misguided fool. It's a performance within a performance within a performance, and a stunning one at that.



In Winter's Bone, John Hawkes successfully keeps the audience guessing about Teardrop. Even after he pulls through for Ree, there's a sense that he may not be so admirable a second time. In addition to that tightrope walk, Hawkes' characterization seems so specific to the time and place, you couldn't imagine him existing in any other movie.



Lonzo Choate confuses providing for his family materially with being a good man. He always seems to have the best intentions, but his alcoholism and its root insecurities confront him at every turn. In That Evening Sun, Ray McKinnon manages to make Lonzo sympathetic even as he lashes out over and over again. He brings a lived-in quality to the character, even as he does the heavy lifting of reconciling the man's flaws and aspirations.

Widescreen Awards: Supporting Actress

Although her performance skirts a little too close to the precipice that is the cliched monster mom, Melissa Leo strikes the right balance for The Fighter. It helps that you can see where Christian Bale's Dicky Eklund gets his dysfunction from. And, by the end of the movie, you're left convinced of Alice Ward's (often misplaced) love for her sons. She'd do anything for them, true, but it's seldom the right thing.



Perhaps best known as Clive Owen's Appletini-loving mark in "Duplicity," Carrie Preston turns in a quiet but captivating performance in That Evening Sun. Pushed aside in her alcoholic husband's escalating dispute with an elderly man, Ludie Choate's pain and uncertainty shines through in momentary glances. But there's still enough chemistry between her and the drunken lout Lonzo to understand why she stays.



In just two scenes, Charlotte Rampling paints a nuanced picture of an aging barfly. The smell of thick perfume seems to waft off screen in Life During Wartime, in addition to the foul odor of desperation and self-pity. She's aggressive in the pursuit of her conquests, but at Jacqueline's core is a deeply insecure woman. "I'm a monster," she says, with no expectation to hear differently. It's as brutally honest and heartbreakingly funny as any film last year got.



It's true that Hailee Steinfeld's Mattie Ross is closer to a lead than a supporting player in True Grit, but as Scott Rudin, the film's producer, pointed out, she doesn't exactly have an arc. Nor does she need one. Steinfeld nails this single-minded character, never seeming too precocious even while sparring with impetuous adults. It's a testament to Steinfeld that, even once we meet the woman (played by Elizabeth Marvel) she becomes, she's instantly recognizable. Aside from a lost limb, she hasn't changed a bit.



When we finally catch a glimpse of the facade that is Jacki Weaver's crime family matriarch Smurf Cody in Animal Kingdom, it's a revelatory moment. She's easily one of the best villains of the year, with her maternal hugs and broad smiles. At the same time she's scheming against her grandson, she's doing her damndest to protect her own troubled brood against the corrupt police. Can you blame her? (Well, yes, but still...)

Widescreen Awards: Ensemble Performance

The major awards bodies don't seem to get what an ensemble is. They tend to award films with the highest number of nominate-able performances (The King's Speech) or the most familiar faces (Black Swan) or both (The Fighter).

An ensemble is more about the collective. Although there can be, and often are, actors who stand out for one reason or another, very little of that is attributable to the filmmaker placing greater importance on one character or performance. In an ensemble, the entire cast works together for the betterment of the whole production and actors tend to have more uniform screen time.

The argument could be made that some of my choices stretch the boundaries this definition (Fish Tank and That Evening Sun have very distinct protagonists), but they still find the time for strong supporting characters and interesting subplots.

Fish Tank: Katie Jarvis, Kierston Wareing, Michael Fassbender and Rebecca Griffiths, Harry Treadaway

The oppressive world of Mia, the 15-year-old aspiring dancer at the heart of Fish Tank, is due in no small part to its cast. If they weren't comfortable diving headfirst into the uncomfortable, the film would've come across as stilted. As it is, the dysfunction feels organic to the situation. And, even at that, its tempered by real human compassion.

Life During Wartime: Shirley Henderson, Allison Janney, Ally Sheedly, Ciarán Hinds, Dylan Riley Snyder, Michael Lerner, Charlotte Rampling, Michael K. Williams, Paul Reubens and Rich Pecci

Life During Wartime is a veritable smorgasbord of compact yet wonderful performances. With a cast so large, Solondz's camera doesn't spend too much time aimed at any one actor. From Paul Reubens jilted figment of Shirley Henderson's imagination to Rich Pecci's China-obsessed, socially inept shut-in, they all make the best of it and they all contribute to the overarching story.

Night Catches Us: Anthony Mackie, Kerry Washington, Jamara Griffin, Wendell Pierce, Jamie Hector and Amari Cheatom

Recruiting two of its main supporting actors from the ranks of “The Wire,” Night Catches Us features some of the best casting of any film this year. There are no stand-outs, but they all pull their weight like a true ensemble. Jamara Griffin, in particular, turns in a realistically grounded performance as Kerry Washington’s inquisitive young daughter. For once, a movie child that looks and acts like a child, sans the capital-M maturity and sentimentality that adult filmmakers like to project onto them.

That Evening Sun: Hal Holbrook, Ray McKinnon, Carrie Preston, Mia Wasikowska, Walton Goggins, Barry Corbin and Dixie Carter

That Evening Sun offers stellar performances by a number of underappreciated familiar faces. Ray McKinnon and Carrie Preston, as the rent-to-buy tenants of Hal Holbrook’s old farm, work wonders with what could have been stock characters. “That Evening Sun” is lent even greater poignancy by the late Dixie Carter, an ethereal presence in the film and Holbrook’s wife onscreen and off,

Tokyo Sonata: Teruyuki Kagawa, Kyôko Koizumi, Yû Koyanagi, Kai Inowaki, Haruka Igawa and Kanji Tsuda

The cast of Tokyo Sonata does an almost miraculous thing. The family in the film feels like a real family coping with all the trials and tribulations real families do. There's little melodrama here; just a turning point in the life of a family that's at once universal and distinctly Japanese.

Widescreen Awards: Original Screenplay

Bong Joon-ho and Park Eun-kyo’s Mother is full of the kind of rich characterizations and subtly humorous dialogue that transcends language barriers. Even through the warped perception of subtitles, the film translates as a quietly human drama with the promise of new discoveries upon future viewings.

Originally penned by an Australian, Max Mannix, and reworked by Kiyoshi Kurosawa and Sachiko Tanaka, Tokyo Sonata never feels like cinema-by-committee. It tells a familiar story — fired businessman fakes employment — with novel specificity. The characters come fully formed, their actions — even one incredible final-act aberration — springing organically from their situation.

Every word and action in David Michôd’s (pictured) crime saga Animal Kingdom amplifies and contorts the conventions of the genre. The viewer gradually forms a picture of this crime family that is not only unglamorous, but downright ugly. Everyone, including the outwardly unfazed matriarch, is just running scared.

Splice is a nifty take on the “Frankenstein” mythos, with Adrien Brody taking the part of a complicit Elizabeth, the unwilling participant-turned-victim. Even if it takes a frighteningly negative position on the role of science, the screenplay — by director Vincenzo Natali, Antoinette Terry Bryant and Doug Taylor — makes entertaining and provocative film fodder.

In revisiting the characters from 1998’s “Happiness,” Life During Wartime writer-director Todd Solondz has crafted a poignant rumination on forgiveness. Its characters veer around the blind curves of grief and shame with reckless abandon and a dry wit that’s as refreshing as it is heartbreaking.

Widescreen Awards: Adapted Screenplay

Joel and Ethan Coen exercise a light touch in adapting Charles Portis' novel True Grit. In doing so, they preserve some of the best dialogue I’ve ever heard in a western. It all rings true. It all speaks volumes about the characters through word choice alone.

The Town doesn’t seem as authentic as it would seem. For one thing, “The Town” — as the film is quick to say in a disclaimer — of today has been the benefactor or victim of urban renewal. For another, the dialogue seems to benefit from actors well-versed in the Boston accent. Where the film succeeds, however, is in its old-fashioned, tightly-written heist film script, penned by Peter Craig, Ben Affleck and Aaron Stockard.

Full disclosure. The Killer Inside Me, a first-person depiction of a Texas sheriff's deputy's descent into full-on psychosis, is one of my favorite pulp fiction novels. The film, particularly the ending, leave something to be desired. But John Curran’s script, with its regionally-specific dialogue and some beneficial plot tweaking, is not the problem.

Much has been said already about Aaron Sorkin’s (pictured) rapid-fire dialogue in The Social Network. It is impressive, but that kind of dialogue is only worthwhile if it’s handled effectively by the director and the actors. (It is.) The real strength of Sorkin’s screenplay is its delicate handling of a complicated story, its multiple perspectives and the broader impact Facebook has had on its creators and the rest of us.

Writer-director Scott Teems keeps the motivations of his characters always clear — though sometimes cloaked in several layers of self-deception — in That Evening Sun, an adaption of William Gay’s short story, “I Hate to See That Evening Sun Go Down.” Teems never loses sight of the characters' humanity and, when the tension is ratcheted up, you feel for both sides in the property dispute.

Widescreen Awards: Cinematography

All of David Fincher’s films have had a distinct visual style, whether he’s working with Darius Khondji (“Se7en”) or Harris Savides (“Zodiac”). The same can be said of The Social Network, but Jeff Cronenweth has tempered the Fincher-isms with a real sense of the technocentric world we’re living in. From the orange gaze of Connecticut streetlights to the white-out offices of Facebook’s California headquarters, the cinematography adds to both the drama and the reality of what’s on screen.

Benoît Debie unleashes some truly awe-inspiring images in Enter the Void. Long, seamless tracking shots follow characters down stairwells and through Tokyo streets, and tiny apartments illuminated by vivid, pulsing neon lights. Although some of the most impressive shots in the film are the work of computer programmers and graphic artists, everything between the pixels is no less fantastic.

Hong Kyeong-pyo does a great job providing the requisite deep, dark shadows, but he's equally adept at capturing Mother's human drama. The surreal moments that bookend the film's central mystery — both of the protagonist dancing away her pain — are critical to the success of the film. The first, a meticulously framed and lit scene through a field of tall grass, and the second, a chaotic shot that loses its character amidst the other dancers, are executed perfectly.

It's one thing to capture beauty on film. It's another to have that beauty stand for something. In I Am Love, Yorick Le Saux uses everything in his toolbox to craft breathtaking scenes of rekindled passion. The impassive sculptures of industrial Milan serve as a striking counterpoint to the glowing warmth of Antonio's food and the source of his inspiration, the Italian countryside. There are two types of beauty in "I Am Love;" one that inspires and one that stifles. Le Saux expertly captures both.

Beyond the threadbare plot and low-key acting, the true star of The American is Martin Ruhe's cinematography. The film, very much like director Anton Corbijn's previous "Control" (also lensed by Ruhe), feels as if it were conceived as a series of still photographs. No surprise then that Corbijn started his career as a photographer. There's a depth and breadth to the imagery here that's difficult to top and, most importantly, contributes to the atmosphere Corbijn's tried to cultivate.