"Jurassic Park" Film Series

The Jurassic Park film series is one of my all-time favorites, and I'm happy to give you some quick reviews of these terrific movies. Read and enjoy!

- Jurassic Park (1993): Man oh man, do I love this movie. I saw it for the first time in elementary school (I couldn't have been older than seven or eight years old at the time), and it absolutely blew my mind. I was one of those weird little kids who was fascinated with dinosaurs before the movie was released, and I could ramble on for hours about the deinonychus or the allosaurus or, my personal favorite, the stegosaurus. Then, when this movie came out on video and I was able to watch it, my love of dinosaurs increased tenfold. Even when I reached those hormonal preteen years, and my dino-obsession ended, I still popped in Jurassic Park whenever I was hankering for it, which turned out to be at least once a summer, when it was late at night and my parents were asleep upstairs and I had the television to myself.

There are many reasons why Jurassic Park is a classic. Firstly, there's the exquisite source material. Michael Crichton's novel, which was released in 1990, is amazing. The imagination, the science, the chaos (both in theory and practice)...it all amounts to a frightening, exciting, and awe-inspiring adventure. With master craftsman Steven Spielberg directing the film adaptation, he was able to maintain all those wonderful, potent moods in tact. Seeing that first dinosaur, a massive brachiosaurus, transcendent in the glinting sunlight, is enough to make you cry. The velociraptors stalking in the kitchen, sniffing out the children, still makes my skin crawl. The mighty tyrannosaurus, crashing his massive jaws through the top of the jeep, is terrifying.

But this film is more than just a series of incredible moments. The acting is fantastic, from our lead protagonists on down to the bit-parts. Sam Neill is perfect as the gritty yet caring Alan Grant, Laura Dern is natural and grounded as Ellie Sattler, and Jeff Goldblum is hilariously bizarre as Ian Malcolm. If there's a stand-out performance, though, it's veteran actor Richard Attenborough as the park's creator, John Hammond. His madness is so palpable, so sympathetic, that it makes you squirm. Thankfully, all of these portrayals are grounded by screenwriter David Koepp's snappy dialogue.

And who could forget that captivating musical score? John Williams absolutely nails it, adding to the film's heart, chills, and thrills. In fact, I'm listening to it now, while writing this review. The range of this composition, from brassy fugues to dreamy strings to violent percussion, is amazing. It truly lends itself to the emotional range of the film.

...okay, so I ended up writing way more than I intended, but whatever. Jurassic Park, with its inventive premise, engaging characters, and groundbreaking special effects, is simply essential. It's a modern Frankenstein story, the King Kong of our digital age. If you're reading this review and somehow haven't seen this film, or perhaps it's been years since your last viewing, then stop immediately and check it out. Although the movie is over twenty years old now, its characters, creatures, and compassion are timeless. Final Grade: A+ 

- The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997): I'm gonna get this right off my chest from the start - I really, truly, thoroughly, love The Lost World. Just like he did with Jurassic Park, Spielberg crafted a fantastic action-horror flick. While I admit it's not as good as the original, it's still a very enjoyable film.

The performances are solid, but although Jeff Goldblum returns in all his snarky glory, the new characters steal the show. I enjoy Vince Vaughn as obnoxious saboteur Nick Van Owen, and character-actor Richard Schiff as Eddie Carr. Best of all is Pete Postlethwaite as the great white hunter Roland Tembo, exuding every ounce of archetype he can muster.

Again, the special effects are top-notch, and I truly believe the dinosaurs look better the second time around. After setting the groundwork in the first film, the puppeteers and computer-effects departments really hit their strides with this one. The dinosaur round-up scene, in which a stampede of creatures is chased down a sun-bleached game trail, is as real as it's ever going to get. And, best of all, is the infamous "long grass" sequence, in which a pack of raptors stalks unsuspecting human prey ambling through the brush.

Yet the movie's most memorable moment is its finale, when a raging T-Rex storms through downtown San Diego. Lots of people, fans and critics alike, hate this scene. Why? It's exciting, it's witty, and it's well executed. What's the problem? If you like your killer dinosaur movies somber and
serious, then you're a man without a country. This final sequence, which can only be described as "Godzilla-esque," is a great tongue-in-cheek conclusion to a very, very dark film. The juxtaposition is welcome, trust me.

Ultimately, that's how The Lost World should be viewed - as a grand juxtaposition. It's incredibly different from its predecessor. In some ways, it couldn't be more different: That bombastic, rhythmic score. The over-the-top visuals. The arsenal of unnamed characters ready to die at the film's disposal. We've moved out of the park and into the wilderness, and if you're ready for the change, it's a very satisfying one. Final Grade: B+ 

- Jurassic Park III (2001): During my film snob years, which basically lasted from sophomore year of high school all the way into college, I absolutely hated this movie. I used to pretend it didn't exist, that it was a stupid joke, that maybe if I closed my eyes and wished hard enough, it would go away. But you know, I just finished rewatching this thing a few minutes ago, and I have to admit - it ain't as bad as you remember. Granted, I still have plenty of pet peeves, which I might as well get out of the way first.

I don't like the spinosaurus. Period. He's a poor replacement for the mighty T-Rex, and watching him strut around like he owns the place is a major bummer. I'm also not fond of the overall story, in which a divorced couple have to go on a search-and-rescue mission for their young son. To say the plot is dumb is a bit of a vicious overstatement. Simple is the word I'd use, but it's not necessarily a compliment. Some choices made by director Joe Johnston are a bit goofy: A flock of pteranodons (basically giant, flying killing machines) soar off into the sunset, and no one seems concerned about where they're going. A pack of raptors have full fledged conversations consisting of grunts and roars. Alan Grant, frustrated with Jurassic Park and the trouble it caused him, swears off returning to the island only moments before he accepts an offer to return. And, arguably worst of all, a raptor emerges from Grant's nightmares and whispers, "Alan." Like...what?

Okay, now that all that is off my chest, there actually is a lot to like in Jurassic Park III. The special effects, especially with the raptors, are awesome. The plot moves like a freight train (the movie clocks in at just over ninety minutes). The characters are generally likable, especially William H. Macy as the bumbling father and Sam Neill returning as grizzled Alan Grant. And, while I dislike some of Johnston's choices, I'm infatuated with others: The streak of feathers atop the raptors' skulls. The opaque jungle, smothering you in green. The emergence of a pteranodon from a thick fog, wings folded in, moving through the mist like a villain in a slasher movie. All these things add up to a sometimes disappointing, yet surprisingly entertaining feature. It might be far from perfect, and it's certainly a step down, but it's serviceable in a nonchalant blockbuster sort of way. In his review of the film, Roger Ebert wrote, "...it's a nice little thrill machine." I agree. Sometimes, that's all you need. Final Grade: C+ 

- Jurassic World (2015): Thankfully, things perk back up with this surprise fourth installment. Jurassic World was a movie mired in development hell for over a decade, with a multitude of writers, directors, producers, and actors attached to the project along the way. Thankfully, the stars aligned and somehow this film made it to theaters. Even better, it's pretty damn good.

Director Colin Trevorrow throws all manner of razzle dazzle up on the screen, from dizzying action to gorgeous set pieces. For the most part, the dinosaurs look amazing as always (there were a couple times I raised an eyebrow of uncertainty, unfortunately when the mighty T-Rex takes center stage, but I can write that off as a minuscule hiccup). Because the movie's setting is a fully functional, state-of-the-art theme park, there are a lot of great sci-fi gadgets all over the place. It's fun getting lost in all the technobabble nonsense. Good stuff.

Our stars, too, are equally enjoyable. Chris Pratt and Bryce Dallas-Howard carry the narrative with ease, ferrying it along from one plot point to the next. The two kids are surprisingly competent, and I found myself emotionally invested in their survival. Yet, as usual, the real stars of the movie are the dinosaurs, particularly the raptors. Chris Pratt's character, Owen Grady, has somehow managed to train these creatures, establishing and maintaining a relationship other than predator-prey. This is a neat dynamic, one which I honestly didn't think I'd like. But the film won me over almost instantly, and I loved seeing these ruthless movie monsters evolve into something I never thought they could be again - animals. For the first time since 1993, the raptors were truly alive.

Alive. Huh. As much as I enjoy The Lost World, as relatively likable Jurassic Park III is, I never thought the series would be revitalized in such a thorough, dramatic way. Jurassic World is occasionally familiar, a bit silly, a little overblown, but it's alive. It's a cleansing breath, a splash of cold water, a downhill plummet. The tension is weighted, the characters are dimensional, the creatures breathe and think and feel...how great is that? The third act - nay, the final ten minutes - produces that special kind of fist-pumping, ear-to-ear-grinning, tears-in-the-eyes awesomeness that perfectly epitomizes the best of popcorn cinema. Jurassic World is great. I can't wait for the next installment. Final Grade: A- 

Marvel Cinematic Universe - Phase 2

With the release of a new Avengers movie, I figured it would make sense to double back and review all of the "Phase 2" Marvel films. (If you'd like to check out my thoughts on "Phase 1," then read my first Marvel review here) Read and enjoy!

- Iron Man 3 (2013): This one's a mixed bag, for sure. Are there aspects I like? Of course. Some of the action sequences are exquisite (watching Tony's California palace get blown to smithereens is pretty neat, and the fireworks finale is loads of fun). Robert Downey, Jr. is again wonderful in the lead role, exploring Tony's humanity and paranoia with an impressive degree of control. And, as we've come to expect in any Iron Man flick, the sarcastic one-liners are to die for.

What don't I like about this movie? Well, here goes: The big twist before the third act is laughable - watch it, and you'll understand. The antagonists have an odd potpourri of powers, chief of which is the ability to breathe fire (yeah, you read that right). Whenever Iron Man does something astounding or heroic, it turns out to be a hollow suit that he's somehow controlling from a distance (where's the heroism in that?). And the ending, which I'll not spoil here, seems totally unrelated to the seriousness of the plot.

On the whole, this film is a giant misfire. It's like Tony's mansion - gorgeous to look at and full of wonderful toys, but it crumbles to pieces so easily. Final Grade: D+ 

- Thor: The Dark World (2013): The first time I saw Thor: The Dark World, I was fairly unimpressed. I didn't like the villain, I didn't like the plot, I didn't like some of our hero's motivations. I mean, I enjoyed it more than the first Thor, but overall, I thought it was pretty tedious.

...and then I watched it again. Sitting at home, in the comfort of my own recliner, I must admit it's pretty decent. It feels kinda like an over-the-top fantasy B-movie, ripe with humor, jammed full of big explosions, and sealed with true love's kiss. It's a Saturday morning cartoon but beefed up with some truly exceptional special effects and interesting performances. While I still have my reservations (the pacing is a bit lumpy, with some scenes that barely clock in at a minute preceding a marathon-style finale), I think it's quite serviceable. It turns out The Dark World is a lot brighter than you may expect. Final Grade: B- 

- Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014): Just when I thought the Marvel universe was getting stagnant, out comes The Winter Solider - a seriously impressive high-concept blockbuster. It's like a paranoid political thriller on steroids. Espionage? Betrayal? Covert operations and backhanded dealings? This is the best Cold War spy flick to be made after the Cold War. Gotta love it.

And yeah, there's a lot to love. The plot is airtight, dipping and weaving with unexpected vibrancy. The dialogue is sharp, balancing philosophical musings with action-movie posturing. "This isn't freedom," boasts Captain America, pointing at an endless government arsenal. "This is fear." Unlike many of its contemporaries, cunning conversation fills the gaps between enormous set pieces. Because of this, you get a real sense of character, of scope, of the whole Marvel cinematic universe. Although there's a lot at stake, it feels like an intimate film, with the focus of the journey being on our heroes. As far as summer blockbusters go, this is an unexpectedly intelligent one. It hits all the right beats with wit and finesse. The Winter Soldier is one of the best superhero movies to date, in league with Nolan's Dark Knight trilogy and Raimi's Spider-Man 2. Cap has never been so captivating. Final Grade: A  

- Guardians of the Galaxy (2014): If Fun with a capital "F" is what you're after, then you've come to the right place. Arguably the best Marvel superhero film to date, the film focuses on a ragtag band of interplanetary alien criminals working together to save billions of lives from a vicious extremist. The pacing is perfect, the action is must-see, and the special effects are stunning. Most important of all, though, is the chemistry between characters. It's perfectly natural, meaning the dialogue often propels the plot. It's hard not to fall in love with the dashing Star-Lord, determined assassin Gamora, or revenge-fueled Drax. The standout characters are Rocket and Groot, a pair of master criminals who are, if you can believe this, a raccoon and tree, respectively. Pretty awesome, I know.

While I'm far from the first reviewer to draw this comparison, it's kinda like watching Star Wars for the first time again. Getting sucked into the story, adoring the characters, gobbling up all the space opera weirdness - you can't help but remember a galaxy far, far away. It elates, it elevates, it excites. I walked out of the theater giggling and punching at the air, like I was a hyperactive kid again. I don't think I can offer much higher praise than that.

Guardians is exactly what the Marvel cinematic universe needs. It's a shot in the arm, an injection of irreverent life into the increasingly serious facade of superhero cinema. Pop hits from the 70's play over intergalactic beatdowns, a green spacewoman falls in love with a smartass thief, a talking raccoon tugs at his crotch. This movie is fresh, fast, and, like I already mentioned, fun. Definitely my kind of film. Final Grade: A+

- Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015): I was, admittedly, pretty excited to see this movie. Pretty really excited. Like the rest of the known universe, I was impressed by the first Avengers film back in 2012 - the action, the heart, the characters, the humor. While it's not a masterpiece, it is a landmark superhero film. At the time, it was better than we could have hoped.

Thankfully, Age of Ultron fares just as well. Although the novelty has lost some luster, it's still every bit as exciting, engaging, and entertaining as its predecessor. This time around, the villain is Ultron - a psychotic robot bent on world destruction. While we've seen this story before, it's never been told quite this well. The plot is lean and efficient, the pacing is deliriously fast, the art direction is vivid (every character and set piece is ripped straight from the comics), and the acting is, again, spot-on. I never tire of Downey Jr.'s crackling cynicism, or Ruffalo's soulful gaze, or Evans' steadfast altruism. Weirdly, it's Jeremy Renner who holds your attention. Whether he's cracking wise, beating up a robot, or hugging his family, you can't help but be enraptured. My favorite moment of the movie happens near the end, when Hawkeye sees a boy in danger and has to help him. He doesn't puff up his chest and run head-on into the danger, as one might assume. Instead sighs, his eyes betraying a bit of woebegone diligence, and jogs over to help, knowing it might be his last act on Earth but dammit, it's his job.

It's there, in that quiet, subtle moment, that the film finds its truth. The truth that heroes aren't necessarily people who have to help, but decide to, against all odds or instinct. While this is a big film (a massive film, a loud, whiz-bang, holy-crap-just-LOOK-at-it film), it's the occasional littleness that makes it great: when Tony squeals with glee at a secret door, when Natasha and Bruce share a tender moment in the safe house, when Ultron stutters and waggles his mechanical eyebrows, when Hawkeye hangs his head and goes to work...

Age of Ultron is a treasure trove of great character moments. That's what makes it work. And yes - it does work. It works very, very well. Final Grade: A 

- Ant-Man (2015): Annnnnd then there's Ant-Man, arriving like a tiny bowl of sherbet to cleanse our pallets after the feast that was Age of Ultron. This fun, breezy affair is one of the lightest movies of the entire MCU, with a swift pace, a lighthearted tone, and a nonchalant hero. This may also be the silliest movie of the series so far (yes, even more so than Guardians of the Galaxy), and that's mostly due to Paul Rudd in the titular role. With a wink and a smile, he carries this whole thing and somehow gets you to believe in all its wackiness. How he does this, I don't know. This entry attempts to move the series away from straight-up action, instead aiming for a comedic heist film. And you know what? It's great. This ain't a masterpiece, but it's fun as all hell and is the perfect way to kill a couple hours. Its biggest sin is that it's a little predictable and a little safe. Beyond that? It's a ton of fun. Final Grade: B

Top 20 Albums of the 2000's

Yes, I adore music. Yes, I play music. Yes, my perspective on what the "20 Best Albums of the 2000's" is inescapably biased. Although I've attempted to take subjectivity out of the equation, I can't guarantee this list is flawless. I tend to appreciate music as music, not necessarily as social commentary, political grandstanding, or, worst of all, that ever-illusive "cool" factor. I'm a bit of a Formalist, so this list tries to honor music as music, with all its beauty and intelligence and charisma in tact. The music here ranges from rock to hip-hop, from classical to folk, from jazz to country. I sincerely hope you read and enjoy.

* Honorable Mentions: Elephant by The White Stripes (2003), Hot Fuss by The Killers (2004), Love by The Beatles (2006), The Marshall Mathers LP by Eminem (2000), 19 by Adele (2008)

20.) Almost Killed Me by The Hold Steady (2004): This record is pure rock & roll. I love the larger-than-life percussion, the gregarious bass-playing, the lead guitar that crackles with electric vitality, and those cynical, slipshod vocals. The eighth track is named "Sketchy Metal," and that seems to sum it all up pretty well. Listening, you worry the whole thing might fall apart at any moment. Surprisingly, this looseness is one of the album's best qualities. It's straightforward, it's blunt, it's uncomplicated. It's awesome.

19.) Kid A by Radiohead (2000): While my hands-down, all-time favorite Radiohead album is 1997's OK Computer, I think Kid A is pretty great, too. It's a mesmerizing electronic epic, a hypnotic blur of warped synthesizers and warbling melodies. While it isn't always the most pleasing album for your ears (sometimes I just want to slap vocalist Thom Yorke in the face and tell him to use his diaphragm and just sing, for God's sake), it's incredible for your mind and imagination. Just put on some headphones, close your eyes, and listen - it's easy to be pulled downstream in the uniqueness of what's on display. This is a curious rock & roll odyssey, one that pushes genre expectations and challenges auditory conventions.

18.) Hold Your Horse Is by Hella (2002): On the merits of pure musicianship, this album deserves a mention. Hella is a two-man instrumental outfit, equipped with some of the most dizzying guitar-playing and unhinged percussion you can imagine. On Hold Your Horse Is, the guys manage to funnel their astonishing artistry into a brisk 30-minute hurricane. The opening song, "The D. Elkan," is an ironic red herring that'll sucker you into thinking this could be a traditional album. You would be wrong. What follows is a baffling, somehow engaging math rock head trip. I've always been a fan of "Republic of Rough and Ready," which acts almost as the band's flagship song, a single if ever that was possible. If you're hesitant, I say start there. Ease into the rest at your own pace. Trying to keep up with the melodies, rhythms, or even time signatures, should be avoided. Just maintain your grip on reality and enjoy the ride.

17.) Rated R by Queens of the Stone Age (2000): "Nicotine, Valium, Vicodin, marijuana, ecstasy, and alcohol. C-C-C-C-C-CO-CAINE!!!" So begins Rated R, a hyperactive, hazy fever-dream of pure garage band glory. It's easy to admire the guts and gusto of the production; everything sounds wrung out and sweaty, like the album parties way harder than you do and has been out all night to prove it. But the musicianship is rather impressive, with tight rhythms, interlocking guitars, and surprisingly funky bass grooves. Songs like "Autopilot," "In the Fade," and showstopper "Better Living Through Chemistry" prove that the Queens of the Stone Age are more than just a dingy bar band. Much more.

16.) Fleet Foxes by Fleet Foxes (2008): I think it's pretty much impossible to dislike this album. Armed with a sun-soaked abandon and undying buoyancy, each track makes you tap your toes, bob your head, or sing along (even if you don't know the lyrics). The Southern rock instrumentation pairs well with the mountain folk melodies, and before you know it, you're soaring high in Appalachian skies on wings of finely-tuned harmonies and lively strings. This is a fun collection of songs, brimming with charisma and humble charm.

15.) Skylark by Renee Olstead (2009): The skylark is a bird that is nimble, quick, and graceful. With this album, Renee Olstead's beautiful voice is all that and more. It is elegant, agile, electric, soulful... It is, dare I say, perfect. She is a perfect jazz vocalist, standing ably alongside Ella and Billie and all the greats. Thankfully, the big band arrangements that accompany her perfection are almost equally impressive. Sure, the album covers its fair share of standards (including a rather unshakable rendition of "Hit the Road, Jack"), but the original songs play out nicely, too. This record is an underrated jazz gem, and you should listen to it immediately.

14.) Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace by Foo Fighters (2007): This is the quintessential Foo Fighters album, for better or worse. Dave Grohl screams and slides, Taylor Hawkins absolutely demolishes the drums, and every melody rings with a top-40 bounce. And it all works, dammit. Each track is an anthem, the flavors ranging from downtrodden contemporary to spirited rock. The wash of distortion on "The Pretender" colors the old-school blues guitar riff with modern hues. "Long Road to Ruin" is an injection of sugary pop, with immense likability and a glossy production. The meditative guitars and ambitious arrangement of "Come Alive" keeps the spirit of Led Zeppelin alive. I'm particularly fond of "But, Honestly" with its rainbow of 12-string glory and larger-than-life finale. The Foo Fighters are often overrated and underrated, depending on who you ask. I contend that with this album, they are neither. Here, they got it just right.

13.) The Blueprint by Jay-Z (2001): Yes, ladies and gentlemen: The Ruler's back. Although Jay-Z has made his share of solid albums, this is probably the best. The Blueprint is exactly what its name suggests - a template for success, the very epitome of why hip-hop is so revered. It's uninhibited, polished, sly, irreverent, and very, very cool. The whole record is imbued with a groove so deep it can swallow you whole. Each song seems to leap from your speakers and explode to life - a musical fireworks display of life and personality. I'm particularly enamored with "Heart of the City," which might be my favorite rap tune of all time.

12.) Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots by The Flaming Lips (2002): The beautiful weirdness of this album is encapsulated perfectly by its title. The phrase Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots is oddly poetic, like the first line of some obscure John Lennon tune. And indeed, there are many parallels to be made between The Flaming Lips and The Beatles, and this record communicates them all: Mystic psychedelia, inventive storytelling, playful hooks, understated yet effective instrumentation, and a sacred chemistry between band-mates. This is an ambitious record, full of bubblegum philosophizing and groovy science-fiction. Put it on, and you'll be hard pressed to turn it off.

11.) Elephant Eyelash by WHY? (2005): This is a super bizarre album, but don't worry - it's a good kind of bizarre. There certainly isn't anything else like it, that's for sure. Somehow by abandoning melody, embracing nebulous chord structures, and sprinkling every track with an ironic dash of hip-hop, Elephant Eyelash manages to achieve the impossible: It creates a purely original sound without pretension or alienation. Allow yourself to get caught up in the inventive rhythms, the quirky instrumentation, and the unusual lyrics laced with imagery. You won't be disappointed.

10.) On the Transmigration of Souls by John Adams - performed by the New York Philharmonic, the New York Choral, and the Brooklyn Youth Chorus (2002): Whatever feeble words I could write about this piece would be inadequate. I'd rather just tell you the story behind it: In January of 2002, the New York Philharmonic commissioned John Adams to compose a piece in memorial of the September 11th terrorist attacks. Instead, Adams gave listeners what he calls a "memory space" in which one can meditate on the tragedies of that day. Indeed, he did just that. This piece is devastating, eerie, violent, somber, and, ever so faintly, hopeful. It is one of the most important compositions of the last decade.

9.) Sea Change by Beck (2002): Never have purity of spirit and integrity of musical expression weaved together so harmoniously. Here Beck has crafted a beautiful album, dripping with melancholia and aching with dejection. The arrangements range from the verbose ("Paper Tiger") to the quaint ("Already Dead"). Paired with the haunting melodies and lamenting vocals, each song is captivating. Yet listening to this album, I can't help but be transported back to high school. I remember riding home from prom in the back of my buddy's station wagon, arm around my girlfriend, listening to this record in entirety as the stars shined overhead and Michigan suburbia whizzed by beyond the window. That's what Sea Change is - a musical memory, an unforgettable soundtrack. You'll be enchanted with this album's simple loveliness.

8.) The Question by Emery (2008): This album is more than pop-punk, or hardcore, or post-hardcore, or whatever you want to label it. Instead, The Question is a monumental feat of modern music. What other contemporary rock bands sound like this? With arrangements and structures this diverse? With harmonies and counter-melodies used so effectively? With such accomplished, nuanced musicianship? While I know this album may not be everyone's cup of tea (from the screaming, to the frenetic energy, to the brash instrumentation), it at least deserves a certain amount of respect. It feels like Emery took classical songwriting techniques and applied them to modern punk, like mixing Schubert with Green Day. Green Schubert - that's what this album is. The Question is a beautifully unexpected masterpiece, vicious and vibrant.

7.) Back to Black by Amy Winehouse (2006): By blending 21st century cynicism with traditional R&B songwriting, Winehouse gives listeners a spellbinding reinvention of Motown - complete with playful hooks, comfortable arrangements, and stunning genius. Yeah, we all know "Rehab" is great, but I prefer the quieter compositions, namely "Love is a Losing Game," a slick little song of sadness and sass. Other than our songstress's smoky vocals, which you can't help but love, the album's real success is its total lack of irony - it all seems sincere. Huh. Sincerity. Remember that? It's definitely something we need more of in contemporary pop music.

6.) The College Dropout by Kanye West (2004): Without question, this is hip hop's best record of the 2000's. With lively flow, clever lyrics, engaging themes, grabbing beats, and incredible hooks, it's an extraordinary debut for West and a high note for fans of the genre. While sarcasm seems to ooze from every pore (tracks like "New Workout Plan" and "School Spirit" practically laugh in your face), there's sincerity in its delivery. Even through the farce, West is preaching his philosophy of downtrodden pride and unexpected success. Other songs, like "All Falls Down" and career highlight "Jesus Walks" utilize relatively complex arrangements to examine life in the new millennium. Regardless of how entertaining and ostentatious his latter albums turned out to be, I think The College Dropout is West at his absolute best.

5.) Where the Light Is: John Mayer Live in Los Angeles by John Mayer (2008): Blues, folk, pop, and rock delivered with such ease and expertise as to render the eclecticism all but invisible, this is definitely the best live album of the last decade. Mayer's melodies, whether vocal or instrumental, dance about your ears. Toe-tapping froth and heart-blazing soul cool and invigorate with equal intensity. Mayer proves his guitar-legend status, imprinting on every track a commanding degree of musicality. Highlights include the groovy "Vultures," a balls-to-the-wall rendition of Ray Charles's "I Don't Need No Doctor," and an acoustic cover of "Free Fallin" that is simply a revelation. Each song is a classic, every note is spot-on. What a concert.

4.) Illinois by Sufjan Stevens (2005): This incredible concept album (which focuses on, you guessed it, the state of Illinois) has a funny way of redefining musical sensibilities and shaping pop expectations for those curious enough to listen. Stevens entrances you with hypnotic stories and flamboyant arrangements, ones that lace softly atop each other with a naturalism unrivaled in the decade. Its lilting melodic flirtatiousness, coupled with the slick production, is borderline sublime. The song "John Wayne Gacy, Jr." will chill (and also break) your heart. "Jacksonville" is downbeat funk with a southern twang. "Come On! Feel the Illinoise!" will expose you to the outer limits of pop music, with fun time signature changes and intriguing chord progressions. If you have no reservations about an album that dares to take chances, and then dares to commit to those chances, look no further than this.

3.) Stadium Arcadium by Red Hot Chili Peppers (2006): The individual records in this double album are named "Jupiter" and "Mars," and truly they each communicate worlds. Stadium Arcadium is a musical powerhouse that delivers everything from momentous rock to sing-song folk, from bottomless funk to trickling lullabies. Each member of the band performs at his musical zenith, and the chemistry they share together is kindred. Chad Smith's heavy-handed percussion lays a concrete framework, while Flea's virtuoso bass adds a surprising level of musical innovation. Guitarist John Frusciante does an excellent job smoothing over the arrangements, providing texture and depth with stunning vocal harmonies and counter-melodies. Singer Anthony Kiedis gives each track its heart and enthusiasm. The result? Stadium Arcadium is the best rock album of the decade, and perhaps one of the best ever recorded.

2.) American IV: The Man Comes Around by Johnny Cash (2002): Wow. This is an amazing record. It's so rich in character, so authentic in its imagery, that you half expect a plume of desert dust to puff out of your headphones every time you listen. The name "Johnny Cash" carries a certain weight, and on American IV you can hear it. There's a heaviness to each song, a palpable weariness that speaks volumes about mortality and experience. Cash's craggy vocals will stain your heart, and his sickly sweet arrangements will percolate in your brain. His rendition of "Bridge Over Troubled Water" is hauntingly melancholic, yet "Personal Jesus" is a toe-tapping firecracker. The overall range is phenomenal, and yet it all feels undeniably Cash. Which, of course, means it feels undeniably American, and undeniably classic. This is a stunning album of loss, love, and hopeful redemption. It is essential.

1.) Classical Brubeck by Dave Brubeck - performed by the Dave Brubeck Quartet, the London Symphony Orchestra, and the London Voices (2003): In this, my pick for the best album of the last decade, we find jazz icon Dave Brubeck composing a transcendent collection of symphonies and recording them with the always-incomparable London Symphony Orchestra. This multifaceted compilation is marked by its rhythmic innovation, its melodic irony, and its overall breadth of musicality. You'll marvel at Brubeck's ability to construct chorales into kingdoms, and then realize you're only just scratching the surface. There's so much going on in these pieces - each one feels like a thriving ecosystem, teeming with life and possibility and wonder. Vibrant fugues lead into soulful jazz, ringing choruses fade into calm strings. The sheer brilliance and innovation of Brubeck's composition is astonishing. How did someone create all this? How could so much beauty and power stem from just one person? I can't listen to these pieces without laughing and shaking my head in disbelief. It's hard to put into words how wonderful this album is, so I'll simply encourage you to give it a listen and become enraptured. It's immaculate.

Top 15 Films of 2014

Every now and again, the stars align and some years are incredible, like 1960 (The Apartment, Eyes Without A Face, Psycho, Spartacus, Peeping Tom), 1974 (Chinatown, The Godfather Part II, The Conversation, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Lenny), 2008 (Slumdog Millionaire, The Dark Knight, Frost/Nixon, Iron Man, The Wrestler, Milk, The Reader, WALL-E)...and last year was no different. Terrific movies were released in droves, and honestly, narrowing this list down to a measly fifteen was mighty difficult. Nonetheless - read and enjoy!

(*Honorable Mentions: Big Hero 6, Chef, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night, Gone Girl, Selma, X-Men: Days of Future Past)

15.) Nightcrawler: Reminiscent of The Conversation and Taxi Driver, Nightcrawler is an intense, character-focused thriller. Jake Gyllenhaal is an absolute stunner, and in my opinion gives the best male performance of the year - he'll make your toes curl and your bones rattle. This is a riveting, old-school movie that will not disappoint.

14.) Snowpiercer: Truth be told, I really wanted to hate this movie. The ridiculous premise and cheesy title (so cheesy) made it all sound like...well, a train wreck. Thankfully, I was dead wrong. Snowpiercer is a sci-fi/action bolt of lightning, and you'll be sucked into its world from the first shot to the last.

13.) Edge of Tomorrow: Holy crap, this movie was unexpectedly awesome. An alien invasion? Time travel? Tom Cruise and Emily Blunt kicking endless amounts of extraterrestrial ass? What's not to love? This is an exciting, efficient film made with tons of talent and intelligence.

12.) Ida: While I don't think this is the best film of 2014, it's certainly the most beautiful. Shot in crisp black-and-white and framed with a photographer's aesthetic, Ida is gorgeous. Telling the story of an orphaned nun about to take her vows, the plot unfolds with delicacy and precision. It may move slowly for typical moviegoers, but the themes and ideas on display are breathtaking. It is well worth your time and attention.

11.) Foxcatcher: I have to ask: how was this movie NOT nominated for Best Picture? Sure, 2014 was a great year for cinema, but regardless, Foxcatcher is magnificent. Each leading performance is a revelation (especially Steve Carell as subtle psycho John du Pont), the writing is natural, the pacing is organic (a bit leisurely, but very satisfying), and the cinematography soars. This is a profoundly sad film, colored with a muted palette, inhabited by coldness. But it's also very satisfying. For those who appreciate searing drama, this is a film you can't miss.

10.) Willow Creek: Yeah - this is a horror movie about Bigfoot. So what? You may shake your head and cluck your tongue, but until you actually see this movie, you have no idea. Is it a good film? Absolutely. Is the acting believable? You betcha. Is the plot effective? Uh-huh. Is it scary? Oh, words can't quite do it justice. This is the very epitome of cinematic tension, and you'll be covering your eyes and holding your breath until those final screams and the bitter end. I'll put it to you like this: what Psycho did to showers, Willow Creek does to camping. Yeah.

9.) Under the Skin: This is avant-garde cinema, buoyant with vivid imagery and anchored by an amazing Scarlett Johansson in the lead role. You'll watch the final credits roll and mull the whole thing over in your mind. It lingers like a taste on the tongue you can't quite explain, but very much enjoy. (Oh yeah - and did I mention Johansson plays a murderous alien, bent on luring men back to her nest and devouring them? What's not to love?)

8.) Boyhood: With its keen observational tone and sense of bright-eyed whimsy, Richard Linklater's Boyhood is considered by most critics to be the best film of the year. It tells the story of Mason Evans Jr, a boy who we watch from age 6 to 18. The movie was filmed in real time, which means it was shot in pieces over the course of 12 years. This, in and of itself, is an accomplishment. Truly impressive, though, is how it's all put together. Storylines amble like errant clouds in summer - taking their time, changing, breaking apart, coming back together. An underlying rhythm bumps beneath the surface, propelling everything forward with ease. Watching, I felt as though I had experienced practically all of Mason's emotions, his struggles, his triumphs. The universality is fascinating. Mason is the archetypal American boy, and he reminded me of what life used to be.

7.) Guardians of the Galaxy: If Fun with a capital "F" is what you're after, then look no further than Guardians of the Galaxy. Arguably the best Marvel superhero film to date (dare I say better than Iron Man? The Avengers, even?), the film focuses on a ragtag band of interplanetary alien criminals working together to save billions of lives from a vicious extremist. The pacing is perfect, the action is must-see, the special effects are stunning, but most important of all: the chemistry between the characters is a true joy. This natural characterization, splashed against the outrageous space-opera plot, is a cool juxtaposition. This movie is fresh, fast, and, like I already mentioned, fun. Definitely my kind of film.

6.) The Babadook: ...and then I was really, really scared. The Babadook keeps you up in the night - makes you question that mysterious creaking from down the hall, your eyes scanning wildly in the dark, trying to make sense of the shadows. This is a top-notch horror flick, effective and frightening. The Babadook might be a boogie man of unimaginable cruelty, but it's also the grief and turmoil of our main characters, and the symbolism works surprisingly well. If you have nerves of steel and can stand the scary stuff, then I urge you to give this thing a watch.

5.) Calvary: If you can wrap your ears around the dialogue and accents (which range from very Irish to there's-no-way-that's-English Irish), then this will be an incredibly rewarding experience. Our protagonist is Father James, a grizzled priest played perfectly by Brendan Gleeson. In the opening scene, he is told in a confessional that he will be murdered in seven days to atone for the sins of Catholicism. What follows is true allegorical glory, mirroring Christ's final moments leading to the crucifixion. The cross at Calvary is now a handgun on some lonesome Irish beach, with a thundering surf replacing the jeering crowd. There is a lot of unexpected comedy ("I didn't kill your dog," insists a furious murderer, "I love dogs! Why would I do a thing like that?"), but mostly the film is sad, poignant, and poetic.

4.) Whiplash: Maybe it's just because I'm a drummer, have played in my share of jazz bands, and have, too, been plagued by feelings of inadequacy, of frustration, of bottom-scraping lows but also stupefying highs...but that's not just it. Personal relevance notwithstanding, it's a marvelous film. The characters on display here are mesmerizing, particularly J.K. Simmons as the bloodthirsty, barbaric band director. The cinematography and overall direction are sublime, bringing visual life to this musical film with fast cuts, fluidity, and entertaining camera work. By the end credits, you'll be totally invigorated, satisfied, and gasping for breath. This is a bold, brash film. Whiplash, indeed

3.) The Imitation Game: Now this is a movie. Seriously - I think it has everything a perfect film needs in order to be, well, perfect. Skillful direction? Beautiful imagery? Emotional depth? Intelligence? Charm? The Imitation Game has it all, with room to spare. This historical thriller focuses on Alan Turing, a professor-turned-spy during WWII with an amazing plan. The always-incredible Benedict Cumberbatch stuns as our protagonist, playing Turing's neuroses with humanity and gravity. Equally impressive is Keira Knightley as Joan Clarke, Turing's mathematical protege. From the first scene to the last, you're whisked away by the story and ushered swiftly downstream by the efficient production. I went into this film knowing (and expecting) very little. I urge you to do the same.

(*...now, honestly, I can't decide which of these final two films is better than the other. Really. So, I'm going to go with my gut and take a stance. But honestly, they're both wonderful.*)

2.) Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance): Wow. Just...wow. Birdman is a film that defies all aesthetic, intellectual, and cultural conventions. Starting with a smattering of letters (one of which briefly reads "amor" - Spanish for "love") and ending with an impossible sunrise, this is a film of the highest quality, caliber, and order. About a failing actor's attempts to write, direct, and star in a Broadway play, the film is a tightly paced nightmare - a claustrophobic, clamoring thing that claws away at the viewer's senses. Digitally edited to give the illusion of one continuous shot, director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu spins the tale of actor Riggan Thomson with authority and finesse. In the lead role is the grand Michael Keaton, who gives this character depth, clarity, and madness. In fact, all the performances are superb, especially Emma Stone as Riggin's strung-out daughter and Edward Norton as a terrifyingly pretentious actor.

But this movie is more than a well-edited collection of performances. Teeming below is a contentious undercurrent of questions: What is art? What makes a hero? Why are we here? What's the point of it all? By making use of magical realism, nihilistic humor, ardent social commentary, and unique style, Birdman is a cinematic lightning rod, the very explanation to why 2014 was an amazing year for cinema. From its production design to musical score to philosophical musings, Keaton and company have given us a new classic. It's an artistic epicenter, a new jumping-off point for film and filmmaking.

1.) Interstellar: This is an incredible movie. Nay - a fantastic movie. It's probably the best film of last year, and maybe one of the best ever made. It is, in the very least, the best Christopher Nolan movie - and yes, that means I rank it above Inception, The Prestige, and even, (*gasp*), The Dark Knight.

Oh, yeah. I'm serious.

I hate to laundry list all of the film's best attributes (I just scribbled out fifteen frickin' reviews, and I feel like now that I've arrived at number one, the format is getting stale), but I can't think of any other way to tackle it. There's so much to love, and I fear a few too many authorial tricks would be distracting. Best to keep this simple, direct, and to-the-point. So here we go.

The special effects, folks - they're awesome. The score, which is pure Hans Zimmer, is transcendent. The cinematography and production design compliment each other perfectly, and every scene simmers. The plot is immaculate, with whimsy in perfect balance with human drama. Speaking of, the individual performances are outstanding. Mathew McConaughey steals the show, finding levels of truth and reality I thought impossible in a big-budget epic like this.

Best of all, these components interlock with grace and nuance. Interstellar is a modern 2001, a grand visual circus with humanity and intellect whirring within. It's a meditation on the human condition - examining what makes us whole, what drives us, what propels us to survive. Simply put, it's a masterpiece.