Naysayers aside, 2005 spun some silver-screen gold

Are we tired of hearing about the Great Hollywood Box-Office Slump yet? I am — for my money, it was the most overreported story of the year. But it certainly got a lot of people talking about the movies, and why we go to them, and why that experience has deteriorated over the years for reasons we can all enumerate (rudeness, long lines, ringing cellphones and the accursed people who answer them, bad sightlines, stale popcorn ... need I go on?).

All of these problems, not to mention the generally busy lives most of us lead, have caused a lot of you to swear off going to the movies. Many prefer to wait for the DVD, to watch in widescreen comfort at home. (What, you're never interrupted by ringing phones at your house?) Besides, you say, most of the movies aren't any good, anyway.

Fair enough: If, this summer, you paid good money to see the likes of "Stealth," "Bewitched," "Kingdom of Heaven," "Mr. and Mrs. Smith," "The Island," and many more, you might well be forgiven for thinking that the silver screen had lost its sparkle. But if, in that same time period, you saw "Batman Begins," "Murderball," "Grizzly Man," "My Summer of Love," "Yes," "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," "Junebug," or many more, you might draw a very different conclusion: that the art of filmmaking is alive and thriving.

At any moment this year, there were wonderful films playing in theaters all over town — you just needed to look for them. And seeing them in a theater, sitting in the dark with strangers whose mutual laughter, gasps and silences formed a community in the space of two hours, is an experience like nothing you'd ever get at home. Looking up at the big screen, you can get lost in the story looming above you; it becomes bigger than you and part of you.

I was privileged to see all of the 10 wonderful films below — and, indeed, the vast majority of the films I saw this year — on theater screens. Each of them took me on an amazing journey; each lingered in my mind long afterward. Ranging from Hollywood blockbusters to documentaries made on a shoestring, they are my favorite films of 2005 (listed alphabetically, as I wouldn't dream of ranking one above another). I hope each of you saw 10 films this year that gave you as much pleasure as these did me.

"Ballets Russes." Dayna Goldfine and Dan Geller's documentary, with its haunting portraits of now-elderly dancers looking back on their work with the famed midcentury ballet company, is the very definition of grace.

"Batman Begins." Give director Christopher Nolan credit for saving the "Batman" franchise. His film, a prequel that explained how Bruce Wayne became Batman, is a dark, brooding superhero saga grounded firmly in the real world — and cast with a troupe of marvelous actors that made it fly.

"The Best of Youth." Six hours long, and I wouldn't have missed a minute. Watching Marco Tullio Giordana's warmhearted, sprawling tale of a multigenerational Italian family is like reading a great novel; you succumb to its spell and get happily lost in its world. A rare pleasure.

"Brokeback Mountain." The year's saddest love story, beautifully told by Ang Lee, who understands the power of silence. Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal, as two cowboys who discover a mutual attraction, give performances unlike anything they've done before — and just might break your heart.

"Capote." Bennett Miller's supremely confident, precisely detailed film whisks us into the strange world of Truman Capote and "In Cold Blood" — it's both the story behind Capote's nonfiction masterpiece, and homage to it. Philip Seymour Hoffman uncannily channels the wispy-voiced author.

"The Constant Gardener." Fernando Meirelles' crackling-good political thriller had a story you could get lost in, and a mesmerizing pair of actors at its center. Ralph Fiennes and Rachel Weisz created, respectively, ice and fire; the result was explosive.

"Good Night, and Good Luck." History turned into jazz. George Clooney's drama about Edward R. Murrow (smoothly played by David Strathairn), filmed in gloriously smoky black-and-white, is tightly focused, perfectly controlled and quietly dazzling.

"Grizzly Man." No film will haunt you quite like this one: the strange, sad tale of a man who wanted to be a bear. Werner Herzog inserts his own inimitable personality into the tragedy of Timothy Treadwell, who died at the hands of the Alaskan bears among whom he lived; the result is not just Treadwell's story, but a portrait of his soul.

"Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire." Now on its fourth film and third director (this time, Mike Newell), this beloved franchise continues in ripping good form, with young Daniel Radcliffe emerging as a full-fledged movie star.

"Nobody Knows." Hirokazu Kore-eda's breathtaking film was inspired by the true story of four children who lived for months in their Tokyo apartment, abandoned by their mother. It's a shimmering dream of a movie, creating a world both beautiful and horrifying, and its four child actors never strike a false note.

A splendid second 10: "Broken Flowers," "Moolaadé," "Millions," "Murderball," "My Summer of Love," "Sequins," "The Squid and the Whale," "2046," "Yes," "Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit."

Best 2005 movie that hasn't opened here yet: A tie between Terrence Malick's "The New World" and Tommy Lee Jones' "The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada" (opening, respectively, Jan. 13 and early February).

Ten perfectly dreadful movies I don't ever want to think about again, thanks very much: "The Amityville Horror," "Be Cool," "Hide & Seek," "The Longest Yard," "Palindromes," "Stealth," "The Talent Given Us," "Undead," "Undiscovered," "Yours, Mine, & Ours."

May 2006 be filled with art, warmth, and good spirits, at the movie theaters and elsewhere.

Moira Macdonald: 206-464-2725 or mmacdonald@seattletimes.com