2006 / Christopher Nolan > There’s really no other way to put it: This was a well-crafted film that I just couldn’t enjoy as much as I should have. It’s intricate and one can garner a lot of satisfaction dissecting each thread from beginning to end, but I personally couldn’t be motivated to care beyond the broad level. Coming from a person who finds Memento to be one of the most overrated films in history, one might think that I just have it in for Nolan—but I did enjoy Batman Begins and even found Insomnia to be fairly solid. Maybe the fact that Scarlett Johansson just can’t act was an issue, or maybe I just can’t get over the fact that Nolan’s knack for complicating matters just drives me insane. Alright, it’s probably the latter. At least The Dark Knight looks promising.

2006 / Michael Kang > The quiet subservience of youth is often incorrectly displayed in film. There lies a difference between emotionally manipulating through stereotypes and enveloping the stereotypes to build a foundation for something more. Kang does the latter here, gently and effectively. Non-actor Jeffrey Chyau’s lead character is unassuming and imperfect, but is as a boy his age should be. One of the key reasons the film works is because Kang doesn’t seem to approach this as an “Asian-American” film, but rather a film about growing up where the central character just happens to be Asian.

Along with Saving Face, this is arguably the only other so-called Asian-American film that I find myself recommending to others. I’m now anxiously awaiting Kang’s next film, West 32nd, which as far as I know is the first film that Korea’s CJ Entertainment has funded for a Korean-American director as well as Korean-American stars (John Cho and Battlestar Galactica’s Grace Park).

2006 / John Lasseter & Jon Ranft > Toy Story might have jumpstarted the animated film genre a little over eleven years go, but the magic of previous Pixar films have definitely failed to carry into 2006. This, what has widely been called the best animated feature of the year, is long, arduous and painstaking in its delivery of an all too obvious life lesson. It rarely entertains but instead folds back into a shell to manipulate emotions and make us feel as if there’s something below the hood, but alas there isn’t. It’s a little insulting, even, when compared to the magic of The Incredibles and the ingenuity of Monsters, Inc. One can only hope that Brad Bird comes back in full force with Ratatouille to restore the pride of Pixar and take the art form back to respectability.

2006 / Tony Goldwyn > It’s nowhere near as bad as I expected (which was, essentially, a cross between Garden State and Crash). It’s definitely a film where personal identification makes or breaks one’s opinion. It’s made for people in certain stages in their lives, especially those in longer-term relationships who question and wonder the long-term viability of these lives. The Last Kiss, surprisingly, does little to answer those questions, which is preferable as not to seem pedantic and righteous. In the sector of emotional resonance, though, it comes nowhere near Nichols’ Closer, which further perfected the art of heartbreaks. Nonetheless, the supporting stories here are relevant and of interest, and Rachel Bilson’s film-debut is full of appreciative spunk.

2006 / George Hickenlooper > First, a blessing of sorts: Sienna Miller can actually kind of act. Unfortunately, however, Hickenlooper’s attempt at mimicking a Warhol-in-film style falls flat through its brash interruptions of what could have been a decent biopic. The script starts decently enough, but then the drawn out storyline with the faux Bob Dylan takes the film further into the realm of unbearability. It becomes bland and boring, and while Guy Pearce’s Warhol raises a few eyebrows, the ultimate result is forgettable.

2006 / Marc Forster > In the third film since his breakout Monster’s Ball, Forster once again takes his style and does a modest 90 degree turn, being only second to Winterbottom in diversity of his content and style. Here, Forster’s playing a game on two levels: In the very basic sense, Stranger Than Fiction is a tragicomedy that Ferrell himself does the best to figure out. But as an underlying, it ends up being a self-deprecatory piece of work about the medium of writing as well as audience expectations of films.

Strung at the hip by a surprisingly solid and poignant performance by Ferrell, the film touches base with quite a few obvious everyday philosophies (including a non-so-stubborn version of carpe diem) and turns them into something more solvent. It’s a great find and one of the best American films of 2006 (second only to The Departed in my count). It includes one of my favorite scenes of the year: I imagine it’ll warm your heart too when you see it. Also, watch out for writer Zach Helm, as this sets up a high bar for what may be a great career.

2006 / John Curran > It’s beautifully filmed and Desplat’s score is impressive in its ability to turn violent at a moment’s notice, but the film is flawed in its ability to say something beyond the obvious. People make mistakes and redemption often comes when the world is put into perspective, but The Painted Veil tries to say that in a way that finds itself to be almost self-congratulatory. I’ve never read the novel and am unsure of its depth versus the film, but maybe something is lost in the adaptation that keeps it from being of interest. As a period piece, it works on basic levels, and Norton’s passion in making the film comes through, even if a little forcefully at times, quite well.