2011 - the ones I loved (part the second)

Here's the second part of The Fourth Wall's ten movies that make this year's hall of fame. It's worth mentioning that there are a few movies that I haven't seen that may have been destined for the list - The Artist, Margaret and Weekend - and some that are worth a nod of appreciation - Take Shelter, Kaboom, Tucker and Dale vs Evil, Animal Kingdom, Red State, Meek's Cutoff, NEDS and Elite Squad: The Enemy Within.

Snowtown - Justin Kurzel, Australia

why? - For the largely non-professional cast, the year's best score, the line 'come and say hello to Barry', Daniel Henshall's chilling performance, being a directorial debut and for being the most gut wrenching true crime movie since Henry: Portrait of A Serial Killer.

Pina 3D - Wim Wenders, Germany

why? - The breathtaking dancing, the superb music, the striking locations, the expert use of 3D technology, for blending a musical with a documentary and for making contemporary dance accessible to a wide audience.

A Separation - Asghar Farhadi, Iran

why? - For continuing the current wave of important Iranian films, it's deconstruction of class, gender, religious, political, moral and ethical issues, the uniformly impressive performances, it's emotional ambiguity and for eschewing an easy conclusion.

Poetry - Chang-dong Lee, South Korea

why? - Jeong-hie Yun's stunning performance and the lead character's age, the class issues, the social mores, its unsentimental attitude, for making poetry bearable onscreen, Lee's immaculate direction and for treating the audience with the intelligence the film itself contains.

The Turin Horse - Bela Tarr, Hungary

why? - Because every single moment is monumental yet minimal, the recurring aural motif, the horse, the wind, the repetition, the starkness of the imagery, the uniqueness of its vision and for not caring one iota about commercial sensibilities.

Watched - no 27 - The Turin Horse (Bela Tarr, 2011)

Bela Tarr's latest is unlike any other film you're likely to see this year; appearing to be more sculpted than directed, shot in striking monochrome and with little in the way of plot, dialogue or character development. The starting point for Tarr's gruelling but unforgettable exercise into 'the heaviness of human existence' ,as he describes it himself, is drawn from an encounter in 1889 between Nietzsche and a frustrated farmer whipping his recalcitrant horse. The German philosopher intervened and subsequently fell into a state of mental torpor that would last until his death in 1900. Tarr imagines the life of the horse, its owner and his daughter on a small farmstead outside of Turin over the following six days. This minimalist but monumental portrayal of the daily grind of the subjects - ritualistic, suffocating and relentless, highlighted by the repeated use of a mournful, cello led aural motif - unfolds in only 30 shots over nearly two and a half hours, stunningly composed by Tarr and masterfully captured by DOP Fred Kelemen.

The ceaseless howl of the wind from a never ending, increasingly oppressive storm raging around them, which leaves them isolated and stripped of the most basic of necessities for life – water - lead the isolated farmer, his daughter and their ailing horse to first attempt an escape from and then dutifully accept what appears to be their approaching fate – death, represented at the film's climax by a literal dying of the light. The Turin Horse, with its precisely composed imagery, existential atmosphere and blatant disregard for commercial success, is a momentous slap in the face to the banality of much of contemporary cinema. Staggeringly impressive.