Creating a list of one's favorite movies of the decade may seem a bit frivolous, but for me it's a meaningful exercise. This was the decade when I began to write about movies, seeing as many as I could each year, and writing reviews for them. Technically, I began as 2000 transitioned to 2001, so maybe my decade doesn't really end until 2010 is over; but I did watch my fair share of films from 2000, and many other movie lovers are putting together their lists now, so here I go.

This experience has been grand for me. It was one of my only true constants throughout the decade, lasting beyond relationships, friendships, living situations, and various short-lived routines and customs. I met wonderful people, many of whom helped to enrich my knowledge and wisdom about films and film watching. Deciding to sit down and start watching and writing became one of the best decisions of my life.

And then there were the movies themselves. I can honestly say I had never seen as many movies as I have during this 10-year run. Compiling a list of a decade's worth of favorites might have been daunting, but luckily I kept track of my ratings this whole time (and some of them did tend to shift up and down throughout the years). So I was able to come up with an ordered list of about 30 to 40 movies. What I found, though, was that many of the individual titles could be logically organized into groups -- for instance, my adoration of Pixar placed no less than five of their movies in my top 25; I still count The Lord of the Rings movies separately, so they took three spots; and so on.

So here's what I've decided to do. I will present a "Top 10" list where each slot will either be an individual movie or a logical grouping of movies. After each title, I'll also list its placement in my full individual titles list. Then, after the presentation, I'll include my individual titles list of top 25 movies. And now, without further ado:

1. There Will Be Blood (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2007) (#1)
What does Daniel Plainview, the "protagonist" of There Will Be Blood represent? Capitalism? Greed? Evil? To me, he doesn't need to represent anything -- he's the complete portrait of a human being, one concerned, as most of us are, with individual advancement; one with an indisguisable pride, and who judges others from his central perspective; one who has spent a lifetime developing and understanding his m.o. in life, and yet does not truly, fully understand himself; one who is full of subtle contradictions; one of public successes and private failures. He is both a very big man and a very small man. The movie isn't concerned about any particular goal of his -- it's very simply a portrait, but of a fictional character so real that I can see many parts of him in all of us. He is the most complete, most memorable character I have encountered in the movies of the last 10 years, played to perfection by Daniel Day-Lewis, and featured in a film of consummate technique and artistry. Thus, There Will Be Blood is my favorite movie of the decade.

2. Spider-Man (2002, Sam Raimi) (#2)
One of my most joyous theatrical experiences of the decade was seeing Spider-Man for the first time. When I was a child, I actually thought about how impossible it would be to make a Spider-Man movie. How could you film anyone swinging around from building to building like that? Never did I dream that one day computers could do it for us, so seeing the ol' web-head flying about the skyscrapers became a thrilling fulfillment like few others. And although, admittedly, the computer-generated effects were a bit awkward and later perfected in Spider-Man 2, it's really the first Spider-Man that won my heart.

3. The Pixar movies: Up (Pete Docter, 2009) (#3); The Incredibles (Brad Bird, 2004) (#8); WALL•E (Andrew Stanton, 2008) (#15); Ratatouille (Bird, 2007) (#18); and Finding Nemo (Stanton, 2003) (#21)
No movie studio has proved to be more reliable to me than Pixar. I've written so much praise about this company, I don't know what else there is to say. Actually, listing five of the seven titles they've released this decade in my top 25 probably tells it all (the missing two are Monsters, Inc., whose only fault is that I've seen it only once, and Cars, which I think is their second weakest entry). The artists who work here are master storytellers, astute humorists, and deeply concerned not only with the rewards of family but also the compassion  necessary and the personal sacrifices one must make in order to let families grow. May they continue telling stories to infinity and beyond.

4. The Fog of War (Errol Morris, 2003) (#4)
Part of my fascination with human behavior comes from its potential for (and inclination toward) destructive actions and the tenuous mechanisms which, logically or not, keep them in check. This informs both my fourth and fifth slots here. The fourth belongs to The Fog of War, Errol Morris's frank interview with the late Robert S. McNamara. Listening to McNamara talk about his jobs and the decisions he and his associates had to make -- many of which dealt with the human cost of war -- is sobering. His words reveal how wars are often waged as psychological battles between world leaders; at times, they become a question of how far one is willing to go. What, in the end, creates an agreement to hold back, if there even is one at all? How much can be gained simply through insight and predictions concerning human behavior and rationality (or lack of)? As wars continue to rage through our young new century, observations of experienced individuals like McNamara should be heeded; or, at the very least, they should be presented, repeated, learned from. (And incidentally, the eleven "lessons" of the movie can be readily applied to life among other people in general, and not just war.)

5. A Christopher Nolan-directed trio: The Prestige (2006) (#5); The Dark Knight (2008) (#6); and Memento (2000) (#17)
I think director Christopher Nolan builds his whole filmography on the question "how far is one willing to go?" No wonder I like his movies so much. With the three films mentioned here (he had two others this decade, Insomnia and Batman Begins,  which I felt were good but not quite as strong), Nolan revisits his pet themes of split-identities and obsession, but mostly it is the breakdown of one's civil/ethical code that fascinates me most -- fascinating because, really, what's stopping any of us? Angier's need to defeat Borden completely supersedes his personal losses; The Joker baits the public and the figures trying to stop him into disregarding their codes of conduct in times of crisis; Leonard discards ethics for the sake of having a purpose. Over and over, Nolan puts his characters to the test -- some fail and pay for it, or make others pay for it; some make the better choices after a tough journey. Constantly involving, Nolan's moral battlegrounds are scenes I like to visit again and again.

6. Unbreakable (M. Night Syamalan, 2000) (#7)
M. Night Shyamalan started the decade so well, then fizzled at the finish. I wish he could return to the form he was in when he made Unbreakable, his best film in my opinion. It works on the surface, as a theory correlating comic superheroes to modern-day mythology, and then building on that to explore what it might be like if the myths were based on real instances -- in other words, to make a superhero story that feels grounded not in a spectacular fantasy but in mundane reality. But what really connects with me is its story about the discovery of one's potential, and the search for a purpose that drives most of our lives -- that we even need purpose to become alive. Unbreakable works inside and out -- cool on the surface, with its conscientious nods to comic book art and story design, while deep in how it communicates the desire in many of us to be bigger than the little space we occupy. Shyamalan may never hit a home run like this again, but the one he did hit has resounded with me throughout this decade.

7. The Lord of the Rings trilogy (Peter Jackson): The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) (#9); The Two Towers (2002) (#11); and The Return of the King (2003) (#10)
In terms of sheer epic movie grandiosity, nothing can beat Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy. During a time when people had less and less reasons to go to a theater, this set of movies came out and had to be seen on a big screen, had to be experienced, and gave those who saw it something to talk about. I remember seeing The Fellowship of the Ring and finding myself completely engrossed by it -- it was indescribable how right it felt to be in a movie theater just soaking in this huge story about this other world and these characters who affected no less than the fate of the universe as they knew it. And I watched The Return of the King three times in the theaters -- that was over 10 hours of my life -- well spent, might I add. I dare say these movies were the defining movies of the decade in terms of the potential they fulfilled in the expectations of the popular moviegoing public.

8: Moulin Rouge! (Baz Luhrmann, 2001) (#12)
Today, the influence of Moulin Rouge! might be seen more as a curse than a blessing -- though the musical has made a small comeback (or, at the very least, regained some footing in the cinematic landscape) thanks to Baz Luhrmann's dizzy spectacle, so have its entries been plagued by rapid editing to help convey "energy" at the expense of being able to appreciate actual choreography and performance. But I'm never one to blame the source for the deficiencies of its descendants; after all, they don't understand that Luhrmann's stylistic choice was intended to convey the spirit of a whole movie. And I remember the absolute giddiness that fell upon me after having viewed this insane trip of a movie, this dazzling ode to the high of naive love, this attempt at selling the emotional mood-swinging tendencies of Bollywood musicals to Western audiences. More than anything, I had never seen anything like it -- and to this day, over eight years later, I still haven't.

9. Spirited Away (Hayao Miyazaki, 2001) (#13)
Even as studios turned increasingly toward developing kid-pandering 3-D animated movies to make a quick buck, this decade was a wonderful one for animation. Besides the work of Pixar, we had numerous ventures into stop-motion, a few traditional hand-drawn gems showing how alive the form was, and quality work from Japan, which would include efforts from its leading animation director, Hayao Miyazaki. Spirited Away, an unforgettable "Alice in Wonderland" story featuring a determined little girl, magical creatures, and not-so-clearly-evil villains, remains his highlight of the decade, and is representative of the best non-cgi animated works these ten years had to offer. Miyazaki's gentle storytelling, often about young children experiencing extraordinary circumstances on their way to becoming a little more grown-up, is also a lovely antidote to the hyper, patronizing films aimed at kids today.

10. A Charlie Kaufman-written pair: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Michel Gondry, 2004) (#14) and Synecdoche, New York (Charlie Kaufman, 2008) (#22)
The quality that all the movies I've listed so far have in common is that they've affected me strongly -- they made me think about humanity and morality, or they've filled me with high-flying spirits, or they've dazzled me with style and technique. They've filled me with genuine laughter, warmth, and/or concern. But there's one kind of movie I haven't mentioned yet until now -- the kind that can emotionally crush me. So here I list Eternal Sunshine, which explores the significant pain and potential futility of love, and Synecdoche, New York, which explores the significant pain and potential futility of life. Just thinking about them makes me sad and shudder a bit. But their abilities to impact me this strongly means they connect with me and speak to me on a special frequency. The way Charlie Kaufman, who penned both films and directed one of them, can channel his themes directly to my heart and mind is amazing; and, not to be left out, Eternal Sunshine director Michel Gondry is also one of my favorites with his vast workman's creativity and innate understanding of what being in love feels like. If Kaufman decides not to direct more films himself, I hope he teams up with Gondry again -- in my opinion, based on just two movies they've made together (the other is Human Nature), they make a great team.

Thank you for reading. Below is the list of individual titles in the order I somehow came up with:

1. There Will Be Blood (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2007)
2. Spider-Man (Sam Raimi, 2002)
3. Up (Pete Docter, 2009)
4. The Fog of War (Errol Morris, 2003)
5. The Prestige (Christopher Nolan, 2006)
6. The Dark Knight (Christopher Nolan, 2008)
7. Unbreakable (M. Night Syamalan, 2000)
8. The Incredibles (Brad Bird, 2004)
9. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (Peter Jackson, 2001)
10. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (Peter Jackson, 2003)
11. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (Peter Jackson, 2002)
12. Moulin Rouge! (Baz Luhrmann, 2001)
13. Spirited Away (Hayao Miyazaki, 2001; 2002 U.S. release)
14. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Michel Gondry, 2004)
15. WALL•E (Andrew Stanton, 2008)
16. Mulholland Dr. (David Lynch, 2001)
17. Memento (Christopher Nolan, 2000; 2001 U.S. release)
18. Ratatouille (Brad Bird, 2007)
19. Brokeback Mountain (Ang Lee, 2005)
20. The Queen (Stephen Frears, 2006)
21. Finding Nemo (Andrew Stanton, 2003)
22. Synecdoche, New York (Charlie Kaufman, 2008)
23. Grizzly Man (Werner Herzog, 2005)
24. Lilo & Stitch (Chris Sanders and Dean DeBlois, 2002)
25. Casino Royale (Martin Campbell, 2006) 

(This article is also posted at www.windowtothemovies.com.)