2011, and how film went back to the future.

Even in Dalston,

these are not acceptable

As happens every year, the December of 2010 boldly delivered it's prophecies of how the film world would take shape in the following twelve months. In amongst the usual press guff concerning Next Big Things and the continued domination of the franchise (2011 has seen more sequels than ever before), one prediction unexpectedly fell well short of it's heralded mark. The rise and imminent domination of 3D.



I get it, you're blue.



When i was enduring Avatar's bloated narrative a couple of years ago, I was seemingly safe in the knowledge of at least one thing, that the hideously retro 3D glasses I was wearing were a sign of things to come, that this magnificence was the FUTURE, and that paying an extra fiver at the flicks should be viewed as a privilege. A non 2D privilege.

Well, I'm happy to report that 2011 has proved that 3D, whilst evidently and correctly, is here to stay, it hasn't actually taken over the world, and, if anything, this year has seen a backlash, a bizarrely retrospective swipe at the future delivered by the very film-makers who are supposed to take us there. Because, whilst 2011 featured the usual barrage of effects laden fare, the theme of the year has been one that screams not of futuristic desolation, but 1970's claustrophobia and paranoia.

Still can't believe your sister's
 the rough one from EastEnders



Take a couple of the year's most high profile and successful films for starters. Tomas Alfredson's Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is an obvious signpost, but none the less important for it. A story and a style that evoked great 70's thrillers like The Parallax View, with a visual panache that relied as much on stillness as movement, a rare example of a film that expected much of it's audience, and pandered to none.
If TTSS was the critic's darling, the Steven Soderbergh's Contagion was as close to B-movie blockbuster as Tinseltown allows. A star studded cast and multi million dollar budget were evidently in place, but this was a picture that shared it's DNA with the likes of The Andromeda Strain and early 70's dread, however hard it's contemporary licks suggest otherwise.

That hadn't bargained for the
 student exchange trip to Tottenham

To see film-makers like Alfredson and Soderbergh spin classic stories into pieces so relevant was a joy to behold, but this year's trend of nostalgia is probably best highlighted by the very wunderkind widely thought of as the next pioneer of his craft. JJ Abrams' Super 8 clearly borrows (and repays) a generous pinch of Spielbergian magic dust, but emerges as a joy, and proves that you can occasionally please all of the people, all of the time. Albeit with an 80's heritage and stamp, the conspiracy theories and paranoia screamed of the 70's and was a heartening reminder that when effects compliment a story rather than dominate it, they become all the more impressive.

This isn't to say that 2011 hasn't had its share of retrospective shoddiness. The much vaunted X-Men: First Class suffered in its pre-dated setting and felt un-necessary, whereas seeing the excellent Joel Edgerton pop up in a mildly redundant prequel of John Carpenter's masterful The Thing was a mis-step all round. There was also the brilliantly nuanced (sic) Arthur remake starring Russell Brand, which was roughly as good as every other Russell Brand film.

Not Human. Nice coat though.

But, in spite of these failings, 2011 has done a bloody good job of getting paranoia and an overbearing society back into the mutliplex. Perhaps it's the world around us that has laid the foundations for the public mistrust gracing the silver screen, the feeling we are being watched and lied to, and the recurring theme of a world in trouble. But whatever it is, it's welcome. Jesus, 2011 even achieved the almost unachievable, by adding a watchable, clever, addition to the Planet of The Apes cannon, a feat that proved beyond Johnny Depp's de facto other half, Tim Burton.

Rehearsals went,
in all honesty, too far.

Whilst it might be labouring a point to suggest that 2011 has been a generally outstanding year, it's true that certain examples point to a variety and ambition that can only lead to high hopes for 2012. Brit film had another major fillip, as Ben Wheatley's Kill List succeeded where Nicolas Cage's remake failed, by out Wicker Man-ing The Wicker Man, in another tale that played on conspiracy and paranoia. But whilst films such as this will remain on the very outskirts of the mainstream, it was the willingness of the big flicks to stick to genre that was refreshing.

Early promotional efforts were poor.

Jon Favreau's Cowboys & Aliens was, bar the title, not so much of a mish-mash, but a straightforward, classic tale that owes more to the Western than it does to the technology powered millions on the screen. Likewise, the recent, powerful The Ides of March is a stripped back piece of cinema, relying on good old-fashioned story and performance, a film that could have as easily been made 40 years ago, and relying on qualities that won't ever appear dated.

With only a matter of days left before the Hollywood juggernaut steams into 2012, the final few weeks have been punctuated by the appearance and anticipation of films the year should be remembered for. The cloying, foreboding (and, admittedly unseen by me) air hanging over Take Shelter have wowed critic and moviegoer alike, but it's Michel Hanavicius' The Artist that perhaps best showcases 2011 as the year that time forgot.

A black and white offering concerning 1920's cinema? Tough sell. Why not just go the whole way and make it virtually silent?! Oh, you did. And what rose from these unlikeliest of beginnings was the film many now regard as the best of the year, primed for a (quiet) assault on next year's Oscars.
2011 may not have been cinema's finest year, but it was certainly one of it's most unexpected. And I didn't don those stupid glasses once.