THE GANG OMEGA’S PICKS OF 2012: Eduardo Pluto Rambles on Another Year

Not trying to be insipid about this, but as I recollect the past year in my life, 2012 wasn’t very earth-shattering for me. It more or less amounted to another 366 days with some minor flourishes thrown in to keep it interesting (leap years are always cool, though). Several non-decisions on my part, no doubt, contributed to this, since I didn’t go out of my way to change it up too much, but things mainly worked out in a rather predicable fashion regardless. This subtle development, of course, has its own positives and negatives, neither of which is worth complaining about to any great extent because things were OK to begin with. And, similarly, since life is all about taking the good with the bad, when neither of which occurs to any major degree, the only thing to do is to take it as a slight lull in life’s symphony, artfully set to enhance its ambience when needed (as it will). I am sure, as time goes on and I keep on keepin’ on, moments from this past year will swell back up from the background and take on more significance until these mere moments become momentous. So seen this way, my new year isn’t merely about completing what’s left unfinished, but discovering what I didn’t even know was there—as I obviously don’t right now—because I couldn’t see that these moments will indeed be integral once they fit in perfectly with my forthcoming experiences. And that, my friends, is what I hope 2013 has in store for me: not simply making the future vibrant, but making the past more memorable when my dotted life connects. We shall see how it works out. Time, as it can only do, will tell.

Thankfully, the arts are always there to spice up our lives (they sure as hell do mine, because they’re exciting). It’s what the arts are there for—to make our relatively mundane existences more atypical by offering retro-representations, modern-day variations and futurescapes of our world. And here are some of my favorites of 2012, as of right at this moment in time.

Movie of the Year:  To be honest, I wasn’t particularly in love with the cinematic output this year. In terms of ambition, I thought it was a fine year; there were some solid examples of movies, both big-budget and independent, that succeeded in being sprawling, unique, and thoughtful (like my favorite movie of last year, Terrence Malick’s Tree of Life), and I tend to honor that type of filmmaking but, for whatever reason, many of the ambitious movies I enjoyed on this level this year didn’t come together as cohesive as I wanted (how selfish of me) or there were nagging aspects about them that kept me from truly embracing them (though to be fair, these are the types of movie that grow on me over time, so stay tuned to my future ramblings/reappraisals). Still, I usually like these ambitious, somewhat unstructured movies (two such fascinating movies from this year that qualify are Holy Motors and The Master—both could have been my favorite if I were in a different mood) more than movies that tell a simple story well or ones that reside in a director’s comfort zone. But this year, I am bucking that trend with Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom. Here’s a movie that knows exactly what it is, what it’s going for, by a director who knows exactly how to get there too. Sure, it’s right in Anderson’s wheelhouse (or, by the looks of the incredible tracking shots in a certain domicile, more like his dollhouse), but what a wheelhouse he’s got. Anderson just understands what makes movies a different beast than any other art form, and his movies, inimitable and self-knowing, reflect this sagacity. Furthermore, thanks to a witty script (favorite exchange: Sam: “I love you, but you don’t know what you’re talking about” and Suzy: “…I love you too”) and terrific cast filled with great actors and some new faces that ably keep up with their luminaries, there’s genuine warmth and emotion to Moonrise that is sometimes eschewed in Anderson’s films for a more detached depiction of the character’s lives (though he still slyly provides something of a god’s eye view in Bob Balaban’s Narrator). A movie about young, irrational love, Moonrise has as much heart—real heart—as any movie this year, and that’s damn impressive in my book.

Book of the Year: I read, I just don’t read a lot of new stuff. This year was no different.  If I am going to invest a fair amount of time to something (and I admit to being a rather slow reader), I want to know the work will be edifying (in terms of my own artistic pursuits) and enjoyable (without having to turn my brain off), so I tend to stick with classics that I have never read, and hopefully mix in some exciting contemporary writing, if I have the time that is. But as of late, the contemporary has been superseded by the past, so pardon my archaic choice once again (last year, I picked Aristophanes’ timeless play The Birds). This year, I wanted to brush up on Jonathan Swift, one of my literary heroes. So I dove back into Gulliver’s Travels and a good portion of his essays and poetry, but eventually took up the task of reading A Tale of a Tub for the first time. His first major work, A Tale of the Tub is no easy read. Taking its name from the nautical practice of throwing a tub into the ocean in an attempt to divert the attention of a hostile whale, the author of the book finds himself doing the same thing to himself and to his readers when he follows every divergent notion in his head to its most logical (and hilarious) conclusions while ostensibly trying to allegorize the different branches of Christianity. In the best possible and most meaningful way, it’s all over the place. And by being so excursive, A Tale of a Tub is able to bite in all directions, mocking not only a myriad of topics that dominated the intellectual writings of the day (and today, for that matter), but writing itself, while still managing to be exquisitely composed to the point where it’s something of an apotheosis of method-in-the-madness literature. Without question, it’s a difficult read, one of the toughest reads I’ve had in a while, but it’s an endlessly rewarding one. Satire at its finest, A Tale of a Tub makes digressions more pointed than ever before.

Album of the Year: Grizzly Bear’s Shields is the tops of the year for me. Building on the band’s penchant for textured arrangements and a flair for the baroque, this newest album boasts some of the most sonically invigorated compositions of Grizzly Bear’s catalog. It’s the band’s most complete work yet and it just oozes with confidence. The album’s finest moments burst with emotional resonance (“Half Gate” and “Sun in Your Eyes,” especially), a welcomed progression to the band’s ornate feel (with such detail-oriented endeavors, emotions can sometimes be lost in the shuffle, but that’s definitely not the case here). The album ultimately espouses everything that makes the band great, and more; that’s all you can hope for from a new album and Shields delivers.

Video Game of the Year: I did not play a single video game all year. I probably should rectify this sorry situation in 2013, since I really enjoy engaging in a good, expansive quest or two, but I always end up opting for watching new movies, TV shows, or reading books instead; there are only so many hours in a day, so many days in a year—even when there’s an extra day for good measure thrown in. I still don’t know if this is a good decision or not, honestly. I like games, and they are as viable and dynamic an art form as any, and I probably should dabble in gaming more often, particularly since I sometimes feel I am missing out on the goods in this department. So I leave it to you, dear friends of OL, to point out what those goods are. What am I missing here (besides my mind)?

Comic of the Year: I guess I pulled the ol’ switcheroo this year when it comes to my video game and comic book exploits, or lack thereof. In last year’s best-of list, having dabbled in some (still old) gaming, I proceeded to confess that I had never been much of a comic-book aficionado—though to my credit, I have always been open to the possibility, especially seeing as how I spend way too much time on this comic-book-loving website—and I then vowed to start reading more comics and, as Caffeine can attest thanks to a many midnight debates over the finer points of some series, I read more comics this year than I had ever read in all the previous years of my existence. And damn did it feel good. I tried to strike a balance between some old and new stuff, and I feel like I made some progress. But what has really held sway over my comic book adventures this year is Saga. Working within the (vast) confines of science fiction lore, Writer Brian K. Vaughan and artist Fiona Staples have assembled the best of possible world-buildings in 2012 to fashion a distinct work that posits interplanetary warfare as your typical nuclear-family squabbling as seen through the relationship of Marko and Alana, citizens of opposing planets who join forces to have a baby. From the birth of the half-breed Hazel right on down to the first tense run-in with the in-laws, domesticity has rarely been so dangerous and compelling. And each issue adds intriguing details to not only the growing setting and narrative, but to the evolving relationship between relatives as well, where the protagonists have to make do with whatever they have against the odds that have been continually out to get them since they got together (parenthood to the extreme). Better than anything else this year, Saga shows that family, even at its most divisive, is the most basic, yet brilliant unit in the known universe, and that’s something to be defended if any semblance of civilized living is to persist.

TV Show of the Year: In August, I sprained my ankle badly and was laid up for a few weeks. During this immobile time in the dog days of summer, I plowed through the first four seasons of Breaking Bad and I have never looked back. It is sensational television, all-around. And although having a somewhat abbreviated nature that has detracted from the show’s typically meticulous structure and pacing (a meticulousness shared with one of my other favorites, Boardwalk Empire), this fifth season has justified it all by perpetually upping the ante in dramatically invigorating ways. The character development of Walt no longer needs to be glacier-paced because the man is almost completely ice-cold now and everyone else, having to contend with him, is left shivering in his presence (wordplay, bitch). And that intensification makes every interaction more fascinating, every decision more deadly, every conflict more pulse-pounding. The end may be near for this show, but it will undoubtedly have lasting power because how it’s all playing out right now is the stuff of legends.

Looking forward to: I am really looking forward to two movies: Terrence Malick’s To the Wonder and Alfonso Cauron’s Gravity. What’s unusual is that both of these auteurs have gone in opposite directions in terms of their creative speed. Malick, usually taking off years (if not decades) between movies, is currently pumping them out at a yearly clip, while Cauron, a director who has consistently worked over his two decades in the business, hasn’t done a feature since 2006’s Children of Men. Besides finding both films’ subject matters appealing, I am really curious to see if these different working conditions influence the final products. Maybe, just maybe, the mix-up makes them better.

Desperately hoping for: I hope to up my game in areas that are really important to me, especially in my writing. Last year, I was determined to write more often and I have certainly improved, but I am in no way satisfied with the proliferation. I need to continue to write, to keep getting better at it, and I am thankful this site gives me the platform to showcase this mostly messy development (case in point: this best-of list). As with anything else, here’s hoping it all works out for the best.