The thing I love about Thanksgiving (in the U.S.) is that it’s a holiday devoid of the trappings of Christmas. You don’t have to buy gifts for people, no worries about “the pressure” felt this time of year, and no elaborate decorations around the house. Nope. It’s just a a time to get together with family and friends, eat a big meal, maybe watch or play some football, and generally hang out and enjoy the day. Also, probably because it’s a difficult holiday to market (’cause you know, there’s no Santa or religious significance), there’s been a paucity of songs about Thanksgiving.  Sure, Christmas songs are dime a dozen, but, except for Adam Sandler, how many Thanksgiving songs do you hear on the radio this time of year? Chances are zero. Why? Because Christmas is a big business holiday and Thanksgiving is basically a mom and pop corner store holiday. Christmas is about consuming under the guise of “giving,” and Thanksgiving is a more reflective holiday; a time when many think about what they have and not what they want (or are going to get). And maybe because Thanksgiving has reflective vibe, the songs that are written about this day are often somber and even cynical. Add that all up and it’s a Thanksgiving Mix Six that’s kind of eclectic and weird.

” A Thanksgiving Prayer,” William S. Burroughs (download)

I first heard this recording in 1987 while listening to KUSF (a college radio station in San Francisco).  At the time, I thought  it was incredibly funny because of the way it just flayed the holiday in an unabashedly cynical way. Nowadays, when I hear Burroughs’ reading of his Thanksgiving prayer, it has such a sadness underneath all the fury. Still, it’s a favorite and when I found the CD in my collection the other day, it was one of those “YES” moments I have when I know I have the right song for a mix.

“(There’s No Place Like) Home for the Holidays,” the Carpenters (download)

My love of David Lynchian contrasts compels me to spike in a Carpenters song.  After Burroughs’ caustic take on Thanksgiving, there’s nothing better to cleanse the palate than a festive mug of Karen Carpenter singing this classic that, yes, is mostly associated with Christmas (Hell, just look at the album cover!).  But c’mon, this can easily be a Thanksgiving song — especially with the pumpkin pie reference.

“Thanksgiving Theme,” Vince Guaraldi Trio (download)

In keeping with the “busting out the Thanksgiving classics” theme, I had to include one from Vince Guaraldi.  Maybe it’s the nostalgia of growing up watching A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, but when I hear music from Guaraldi, it immediately evokes that warm, fuzzy feeling of the holidays.  But then if you watch the show, you know that the ever-in-need-of-Prozac Charlie Brown gets to say lines like this:

CHARLIE: Holidays always depress me.
SALLY: I know what you mean. I went down to buy a turkey tree and all they have are things for Christmas.
CHARLIE: For Christmas? Already?

“Thanksgiving Day, “Ray Davies (download)

Why is this Brit writing songs about Thanksgiving?  Because he hates America, of course!  Actually, Davies has captured the isolation many feel around this time of year.  It’s a communal/family holiday, but for many people in the good old US of A, the pull of individualism often has the unfortunate effect of severing our ties to our family and community. “Thanksgiving Day” captures those sad sack individuals in lyrical flashes that Davies does so well.

“Almost Thanksgiving Day,” Graham Parker (download)

Okay, why is this Brit writing songs about Thanksgiving?  Because he hates America, too!  Why else would this former new waver decided to write a song with a rootsy vibe, affect a mild Southern drawl and, like Davies, compose lyrics that highlight a kind of sadness that precedes the holiday season.  Obviously, he just can’t stand the thought that some people are actually happy on Thanksgiving — okay, they’re really drunk, but most are happy drunks!

“We’ll Be Together,” Sting (download)

And finally, why is this Brit writing songs about Thanksgiving? Answer:  He didn’t.  But the title just screams Thanksgiving, doesn’t it?  No?  Well, it does to me!  Plus, it seems I’m on a Sting kick these days since, well, I featured “Shadows in the Rain” a couple of weeks ago.  But I wanted to end this mix on a more upbeat note and “We’ll Be Together” fit the bill.

Happy Thanksgiving, Popdosers!

Of course, from a certain very cynical point of view, the same thing could have been said about the Top 40 in recent decades — and in fact, we don’t bring up radio’s loss of gatekeeper status as an indictment of where music is now, but instead as a way of prefacing a very eclectic list that may not contain more than a handful of songs you’ve actually heard. And if you’ve spent any amount of time here, you know that isn’t because we’re a particularly hip group of writers; it’s simply a reflection of how many options there are for finding music now, how many subgenres there are, and perhaps above all, how rigidly many listeners stick with what they know.

So here’s hoping you find at least a few songs you’ve never heard before in this list of the 100 (okay, 103 — we couldn’t resist adding a few more) songs we loved the most over the last ten years. We’re all rabid music collectors now, and no one’s library is ever big enough — and what’s better for a real fan than the thrill of discovering something great? Happy listening!

103. The Fratellis, “Chelsea Dagger“
Armed with the best drunken barroom chorus since “Tubthumping,” the Fratellis apply the foolproof trick of using nonsense words for your biggest hook, thereby making your song instantly accessible. –David Medsker

102. Tegan and Sara, “You Wouldn’t Like Me“
After two well-received indie records, twin sister pop-punk singer/songwriters Tegan and Sara Quin were due for a breakout. With the help of some well-placed songs in an up-and-coming medical drama called Grey’s Anatomy, and some smart Internet marketing, the Canadians did just that with their 2004 album, So Jealous. For new listeners, there was no better introduction to the introspective lyrics and fist-pumping/dance-around-the-room music of Tegan and Sara than the leadoff track, “You Wouldn’t Like Me.” It begins with a guitar and the sisters singing their trademark harmony. The song slowly builds as other musicians join in, until it’s a fury of guitars, drums and heartache. Pop perfection. –Scott Malchus

101. Prototypes, “Who’s Gonna Sing?”
AKA “that song from the iPod commercial.” In a decade of terrific Gallopop, this was the worldbeater. That fuzz bass, that drumline — lumbering and yet nimble, like a dancing bear — the vocal interplay, the utter earworm insistence of it all. And it’s so playful, so giddy, so inviting, defying you to not join in the dance. Who’s gonna sing? Anybody who listens past the first chorus, that’s who. –Jack Feerick

100. Arcade Fire, “Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)”
The rise of Arcade Fire from Montreal music collective to one of the most influential bands in the world is one of the greatest music stories of the decade. This track from their 2004 debut, Funeral, sets the story of the great ice storm of 1998 against the band’s typically offbeat instrumentation. The third single from the album finds Arcade Fire in their full anthemic glory. –Ken Shane

99. Crooked Fingers, “New Drink for the Old Drunk”
Archers of Loaf’s Eric Bachmann goes solo here as Crooked Fingers, but still continues his normal lyrical themes of darkness and despair. The meld of the banjo and strings here works beautifully, and despite the initial feeling that you’re listening to a man in some deep ditch left for dead, you can also picture a group of really good friends in a bar pumping their pint-filled fists in the air along with the chorus. –Dave Steed

98. Suzanne Vega, “Pornographer’s Dream“
From her woefully ignored Beauty And Crime album, this song asks what would be the dream of a dirty mind, and finds something beautiful and untouched. Don’t let the title throw you: this is a keeper of a track. –Dw. Dunphy

97. Scissor Sisters, “Laura“
Few songs represent their band as completely as “Laura” does the Scissor Sisters. All of the band’s hallmark traits (save Jake Shears’ falsetto) are on magnificent display here, from the Daft Punk-ish drum track to the theatrical musical tone and the playful, boys-only lyrical approach. As perfect an opening number as they come. –DM

96. Johnny Boy, “You Are the Generation that Bought More Shoes and You get What You Deserve”
Bastard babies of Phil Spector and Joe Meek, this UK guy-gal duo alchemize cheapness into mystique, erecting a Wall of Sound that’s more like a fogbank, from which emerge endlessly intriguing glimpses. Even if Johnny Boy hadn’t followed up “You Are the Generation” with a string of singles nearly as good, this giddy swirl of lo-fi teen-pop grandeur would still sound like the achievement of a lifetime. –JF

95. Fiona Apple, “Not About Love“
The lead single from Fiona’s much-anticipated third album, 2005’s Extraordinary Machine, “Not About Love” is one of the best breakup songs ever written. There are two subtly different versions of the song, one from the unreleased Jon Brion-produced album and one from the official release. I don’t have a preference between the two – they’re both incredible. –Kelly Stitzel

94. Eddie Vedder, “Hard Sun“
Inspired by Sean Penn’s powerful film, Into the Wild, Eddie Vedder covered an obscure 1989 song by the group Indio. Vedder does the original justice while making it his own. Singing with the sort of passion and emotion sometimes missing from his blistering work with Pearl Jam, Vedder recorded a song that stands alone from the movie, one that is elegiac and folksy, and one that will be remembered for years to come. –SM

93. Bob Dylan – “Mississippi”
Dylan rescued this masterpiece from the scrapheap of his 1997 comeback Time Out of Mind. A faster, somewhat pathetic version by Sheryl Crow (on 1998’s The Globe Sessions) might have been the only official recording of this song if not for Dylan’s desire to record it a fourth time. The result (released on 2001’s Love and Theft) wasn’t just his strongest song of the decade, it was one of his strongest songs overall. A Mojo poll of musicians and music critics a couple of years back ranked “Mississippi” as Dylan’s 10th best song EVER. Listening to it, it’s not hard to hear what they did: the combination of some of his most quotable lines in years, and the scraggly, shot vocals that perfectly match the lyrics are a thing of beauty. Try not to get chills the first time you hear him sing the internal bridge in the second verse:

“Some people will offer you their hand and some won’t
Last night I knew you, tonight I don’t
I need something strong to distract my mind
I’m gonna look at you ’til my eyes go blind” –Matthew Bolin

92. Alicia Keys, “You Don’t Know My Name”
In a decade filled with great moments, this might actually be Kanye West’s greatest — a tribute to the smooth, sensual soul of the 1970s, featuring the longing vocals of Alicia Keys and even a classic telephone interlude. –Mike Heyliger

91. Aimee Mann, “Deathly“
Technically, this song was first released in 1999 on the soundtrack to the Paul Thomas Anderson film, Magnolia. In fact, the track’s opening lyrics appear as dialogue spoken by Melora Walters’s character in the film. But the song, which I interpret as being about trying to keep someone from loving you because you know you’re bad for them, also appears on Mann’s 2000 album, Bachelor No. 2, so it gets a pass on this list. –KeSt

90. U2, “Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of“
It just seems right that at the recent Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 25th Anniversary concerts, that Mick Jagger joined U2 on stage for this song. Mick, who at his best was perhaps the greatest white interpreter of American black music ever, chose the Irish band’s most successful attempt at recreating American Soul and R&B. While 1988’s Rattle & Hum was U2’s fervent (and at times ridiculous) attempt to showcase their connection to — and immersion in — American musical culture, they’ve never pulled it off in their music better than this. –MB

89. Wilco, “Impossible Germany”
The Sky Blue Sky album found Wilco getting reacquainted with songs, especially on this spiritual cousin to Steely Dan, complete with an insane Nels Cline solo to close the track out. –DWD

88. Rilo Kiley, “Portions for Foxes“
An ode to destructive, yet irresistible, romantic relationships “Portions for Foxes” was the lead single from indie darlings Rilo Kiley’s third full-length album, 2004’s More Adventurous. With lyrics that are a blend of obvious and obscure, and a more polished sound than the band’s previous singles, “Portions for Foxes” is, in my opinion, one of the best songs they’ve ever recorded. And when Jenny Lewis growls, “C’MERE!” you know you want to. –KeSt

87. Maria McKee, “No Other Way To Love You”
Love is patient; love is kind. Love dares great things, runs any risk. Love is stronger than darkness, stronger than death. Do you remember? Do you remember this feeling? Love sacrifices everything for love, heroic. Love crawls through fire and is not burned. Love stands firm in a hurricane of knives, and is not cut. Do you remember? Then listen. Listen, and you will. –JF

86. John Mayer, “Say”
I’m sort of in a grey area with John Mayer. I certainly don’t love him like so many do, but I also don’t think he’s a total douchenozzle, and “Say” helped push him further from doucheland than he’d ever been. It’s a perfect example that music doesn’t always have to be complex to be great. It’s just a gorgeous and very simple bittersweet ballad. –DS

85. Coldplay, “Strawberry Swing“
Coldplay waited a year until they got the video complete before releasing “Strawberry Swing” as a single. With its marching beat, chiming guitars and Chris Martin’s retrained singing, this is one of the most moving numbers in their repertoire. It will always bring a smile to your face, tears to your eyes, and fill you with hope. The wait was worth it. –SM

84. New Pornographers, “These Are the Fables“
Carl Newman sets aside his tales of Spanish techno in order to give Neko Case a song that’s pitch-perfect for both her honey-dipped voice and the Broadway stage. Don’t be surprised if one day this song becomes the centerpiece for the next generation’s “Godspell.” –DM

83. Queens of the Stone Age, “No One Knows”

82. Mariah Carey, “We Belong Together“
By 2005 she had almost completely abandoned her girl-next-door tunefulness in favor of hip-hop whoredom, but on “We Belong Together” she (and collaborator Jermaine Dupri) found a midway point between old-school R&B and the contemporary flava she’s been pursuing since she got the implants her first marriage ended. Momentarily recovering her faculties, she forsook the melisma and the high-pitched squeaks (for once) in favor of a rapid-fire, Beyonce-esque staccato vocal – and, shockingly, created perhaps the finest single of her career. –Jon Cummings

81. The Whip, “Frustration“
For a Manchester band to so shamelessly cop its sound from New Order is a function of audacity. To capture the churning, epic melancholy that made New Order resonate in the first place is something akin to miraculous. –JF

80. Patty Griffin, “Heavenly Day“
Griffin has had a small but loyal following for over a decade. While her fans can tell you that her music is lovely and smartly written, mainstream America has always been oblivious. Lucky for Griffin and her fans, ATO records, her label, lets her continue to make wonderful albums like Children Running Through, the CD from which “Heavenly Day” comes from. This uplifting ballad slowly builds, with Griffin’s beautiful, crackling voice over guitar and strings, until it feels like a choir should be singing with her. Savvy marketing at ATO placed “Heavenly Day” on various television series, giving Griffin the most exposure she’s had in her career. As far as I’m concerned, if that’s what it takes for her to keep recoding beautiful songs like this one, then plaster her music everywhere. –SM

79. Kaiser Chiefs, “Never Miss a Beat“
It sports one of the most economical verses ever written, and is bouncier than a kangaroo on a pogo stick. The Kaiser Chiefs have always had a penchant for quirky, upbeat pop, but they outdo themselves with “Never Miss a Beat.” Its “Warriors”-style video is a classic, too. –DM

78. Gov’t Mule, “Banks of the Deep End“
When they throw the first shovel of muddy ground on my coffin (for it will rain on the day of my funeral, like in the movies, or a blues song), I hereby request that my best friends at least have this song playing in their heads, if a boom box or iPod isn’t handy. –RS

77. Aimee Mann, “Calling It Quits”
This is my favorite track from Aimee’s brilliant album, Bachelor No. 2. I interpret it to be about how lovers can sometimes be like con-artists constantly trying to put one over on each other, then cutting and running before getting hurt. Interestingly enough, the song was placed on the soundtrack album for the hit HBO series Sex and the City (though I couldn’t tell you on which episode it was featured), and when listened to in that context, it could easily be considered as the theme song for the show’s lead couple, Big and Carrie. –KeSt

76. White Stripes, “My Doorbell“
Jack & Meg spent so much time prior to this song rocking out, you had to do a spit-take the first time you heard this slice of bubblegum come through the airwaves. Speed the vocals up and you might think you’re listening to the best song The Osmonds or The Jackson Five never released. –MH

75. System of a Down, “Aerials“
Slacker Zen, draped in intricate layers of instrument and voice. At once universal and defiant of interpretation, it touches and haunts you, and you can never quite seem to find the end of its depth. It is their masterpiece, and the finest song of the last ten years (at least on my list). –-RS

74. Muse, “Knights of Cydonia“
One part spaghetti western rave-up, one part “Bohemian Rhapsody” rock-out (with Wayne’s World-style headbanging finale to boot, British prog-rockers Muse triumphantly jump out of Radiohead’s shadow with this supercharged (if slightly paranoid) battle cry. –DM

73. Dixie Chicks, “Truth No. 2“
History will record “Not Ready to Make Nice” (#14 above) as the Dixie Chicks’ official response to the war-protest uproar that had decimated their country-music audience, but back in 2003 this song – a Patty Griffin gem, originally meant for her unreleased Silver Bell album – served the Chicks’ still-loyal fans as a more immediate (if unplanned) statement of rebellion. “You don’t like the sound of the truth coming from my mouth,” Natalie Maines spat at her detractors during the band’s gigs that year, as protest-movement footage played on the video screens – and as, far away, events began to unfold that would leave most Americans feeling just as ashamed of their president as Natalie was.

72. Slayer, “Payback”
The angriest song I’ve ever listened to off the angriest record I’ve ever listed to (2001’s God Hates Us All), “Payback” makes me feel better about myself. Every time I leave work angry or something sucks I put this on and I realize that nothing going on in my life could ever make me this pissed off and then I’m good again. “For my own piece of mind I’m going to/tear your fucking eyes out/rip your fucking flesh off/beat you till you’re just a fucking lifeless carcass/fuck you and your progress/watch me fucking regress/you were meant to take the fall, now you’re nothing/payback’s a bitch motherfucker.” That’s some shit right there. You have no idea how much it pleases me that this made the final cut. –DS

71. Outkast, “So Fresh So Clean”
Half of Stankonia could have made this list, that’s how good it was. This was the third single from the album but is no less memorable than “B.O.B.” or “Ms. Jackson.” In fact, my 1-year-old son is learning hip-hop from this song. Every time he gets a bath, we sing “ain’t nobody dope as me/I’m just so fresh, so clean (so fresh and so clean clean).” I’m not sure Outkast knows they created bathtime songs. –DS

70. Alexi Murdoch, “Orange Sky“
A wonderful hallucination set to music. Ethereality personified. –RS

69. Robin Thicke, “Lost Without U”
This is as good as it’s going to get for Alan Thicke’s son. For a good 15 minutes in ’06-’07, Thicke was the go-to guy in hip-hop if you needed a sultry chorus, mainly due to his work with Lil’ Wayne. Unsure of himself when success wasn’t coming for him, he wrote this song detailing what he wants to hear from his lady to make him feel good again. If you’re making a “get in her pants” mix-tape, this song is now a must add. Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On,” Ginuwine’s “Pony” and “Lost Without U.” –DS

68. The Hives, “Hate to Say I Told You So“
Sweden has long been known for pop music, but rock and roll, not so much. That all changed when brash garage rockers The Hives arrived on these shores with this song in 2002. If Ray Davies had never left the garage, this is the kind of music he’d be making, and we’d all be better for it. –KS

67. Train, “Drops of Jupiter“
It had been a long while since a mainstream rock single this melodic had broken through the Limp Bizkit/Linkin Park cacophony and achieved such universal impact. “Drops of Jupiter” overextended its metaphor by about a verse and a bridge, and some of the lyrics are just cringe-inducing – what with the Tae-bo and the soy latte, the “deep-fried chicken” and the “freeze-dried romance.” But the choruses are unforgettable, and the “na-na”s perhaps the most resonant since “Hey Jude.” –JC

66. Usher, “Yeah!“
For a while there, it looked like Usher could be a Michael Jackson-like figure for today’s mall kids and would-be club-hoppers. While it’s a little early to say he blew his chance, he has yet to come up with another single as transcendent as this jam. –Rob Smith

65. Beyonce, “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)”
The most omnipresent single of the past 12 months has roots in double dutch (as well as a track called “Get Me Bodied” from Beyonce’s previous album), but “Single Ladies” transcended its origins to become a cultural phenome – YO! I’ma let you finish…but I thought I told you, Beyonce had one of the best videos in – shut the fuck up, Kanye. –JC

64. Paul McCartney, “Ever Present Past“
Let’s face it, Sir Paul doesn’t have to release new music anymore. Yet he’s an artist and when something as wonderful as “Ever Present Past” is buzzing around in your head it has to be laid down on tape… or computers. This upbeat song that looks back on life has all of the elements of a great Paul McCartney hit single: Joyful exuberance, a catchy melody, just a touch of melancholy, and the perfect bridge. It also has that key ingredient of any great pop song: at under 3:00, it keeps you wishing the song was longer, so you go back and listen to it again… and again…. and again…. –SM

63. Lifehouse, “Hanging By A Moment“
Like Creed and Mr. Mister before them, Lifehouse likely made a large number of people pause somewhere during the fourth or fifth time they heard this song and exclaim “Wait a minute….am I listening to CHRISTIAN ROCK?!” And yes, Lifehouse did start out a a Christian group, but this crossover works so well because of two main things: Unlike songs by Creed, Nickelback, or other “defining” rock groups of this decade, the more cock-rock tendencies of the song are balanced by its tunefulness (separate vocal and musical hooks in the verse, chorus and bridge) and the musical subtleties (the use of cello in the bass effects; the mellotron and organ in the bridge) to give added depth to the arrangement. Not much else they’ve had to offer since has been that worthwhile, but this track holds up as a well-crafted earworm. –MB

62. OK Go, “Here It Goes Again”
Lost in the audacity – and hype – of the YouTube-classic treadmill clip was the fact that “Here It Goes Again” is an ace power-pop track. It cribbed a bit from the Jags and a bit – fittingly — from the old MTV theme music, and breathed new chart life into a too-often overlooked genre. And did you hear about their video?… –JC

61. Wilco, “Heavy Metal Drummer“
From the career-making album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Jeff Tweedy reflects on his youthful days watching heavy metal bands in the summer, and the loss of innocence in the intervening years. Wonderful contributions from the late Jay Bennett take this tale of a childhood idyll and make it so much more. –KS

60. Modest Mouse, “Float On“
The Good News For People Who Love Bad News was this 2004 single from the quirky Seattle band. Isaac Brock leads his bands through this uncharacteristically upbeat meditation on the joys of being above it all. –KS

59. System of a Down, “B.Y.O.B.“
It was 2005. I’d had it with George Bush; you’d had it with George Bush; System of a Down had had it with George Bush. System of a Down recorded “B.Y.O.B.”—a disorienting blast of punk irreverence, brutal truth, and howling anger—as a response to George Bush. System of a Down were cooler than you or I will ever be. -–RS

58. Maroon 5, “Makes Me Wonder“
“Makes Me Wonder” proved that Adam Levine wasn’t all about good cheekbones and smoldering stares — the man could write a mean pop song, too. Taking musical cues from both Prince and early Eighties pop radio (this song’s instrumental sounds like it could be Hall & Oates or Kool & the Gang — and those are both compliments!), this song had some serious soulful swagger as well as the mild shock value of hearing the “F” bomb used in the chorus of a pop hit. Consider it the 21st century version of –MH

57. John Mayer, “Clarity”
Previously known for running through the halls of his high school and comparing bodies to theme-park rides, John Mayer hit paydirt with this pensive, jazz-influenced tune (featuring instrumentation from trumpeter Roy Hargrove and Roots drummer ?uestlove). Mayer has called “Clarity” “a song written about the first few seconds after waking up”, and its’ free-associative nature-the song has no chorus-gives it that vibe. –MH

56. N.E.R.D., “Lapdance”
Face it, Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo aka the Neptunes are weird cats. At points they have some of the most innovative hip-hop beats around and at other times, they are a bit too eclectic for their own good. However, when they combined with Shay Haley to form their rock group N.E.R.D. (No one Ever Really Dies) and released their debut In Search Of… in 2001 it all came together in killer fashion. “Lapdance” is the perfect headbanging blend of rap and rock riffage. –DS

55. Spoon, “Everything Hits At Once”
It would be a couple albums later before Spoon would get the indie rock love they deserved, but the Girls Can Tell album, and this song as its opener, pretty much confirmed Britt Daniel and company were well on their way. –Dw. Dunphy

54. U2, “Vertigo“
Lest you thought that U2 had been consumed by synthesized textures, “Vertigo” was the song that proved that they could still rock like the Dublin punks they once were. Shredding guitars, pounding drums, and thudding bass abound, from the multi-language count off to last fuzz-laden chord. All of this can be yours indeed. –KS

53. Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros, “Coma Girl“
An old-fashioned 1950s rumble, filtered through shards of 60s garage and 70s punk records, its story told by an expert ranter/raver who also happens to be a novice ghost. We lost a lot when we lost Joe. -–Rob Smith

52. John Legend, “Ordinary People“
Take a minute and ponder the fact that this elegant piano ballad was co-written by the same guy who wrote “My Humps.” Don’t let that fact keep you from enjoying this song, a simple, heart-rending piano ballad that introduced John Legend as the Stevie Wonder (OK, maybe not the Stevie Wonder…the Lionel Richie?) of his generation. –MH

51. Kanye West, “Gold Digger“
The second single from Kanye’s second album, “Gold Digger” tells the tragic tale of a man used by his woman for financial gain. The hugely successful single owes much to the revised version of Ray Charles’ “I Got A Woman” as interpreted by Jamie Foxx, and the scratches of DJ A-Trak. –KS

50. Feist, “Mushaboom“
For a long time, I had no idea what the hell a “Mushaboom” was. Turns out, it’s a village in Nova Scotia, Canada. Once I found that out, the lyrics made a whole lot more sense to me. The first single from Broken Social Scene’s (Leslie) Feist’s second solo album, 2004’s Let It Die, “Mushaboom” was her breakout hit and paved the way for one of her future songs to be used in an iPod commercial. Just messing with you, Leslie. I love you and your song. –KeSt

49. Kylie Minogue, “Can’t Get You Out of My Head“
Quick – how much of this song do you actually remember? Probably not much – but that’s OK, because that na-na-na hook wormed its way into several billion ears worldwide in 2002, taking the appropriately titled “Can’t Get You Out of My Head” to #1 in 40 countries. In the U.S. it was the second of Kylie’s two – count ’em, two – career Top 10 pop hits; everywhere else, she’s so popular that an exhibit of her stage costumes had crowds queuing around the block at a London museum a couple years back. –JC

48. Wilco, “Jesus Etc.“
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in a nutshell—a deceptively simple piece that unfolds gradually, over repeated contact with the listener. The instruments bounce and slide around, as Tweedy does his best to simultaneously defy meaning and encapsulate the entire world into a four-minute song. -–RS

47. Mary J. Blige, “Family Affair“
Mary J. speaks a language all her own. Fortunately for us, Dr. Dre was there to translate on this 2001 thumper. -–RS

46. Andrew W.K., “Party Hard”
Without a doubt the dumbest song on this list by leaps and bounds, there’s just something about Andrew W.K.’s music that makes you forget how stupid it is. Maybe it’s because his lyrics are pretty damn accurate. Working sucks and partying is better. So why not get a party started and party hard, party hard, party hard. And then party even harder. Who’s going to argue with that? –DS

45. Radiohead, “Pyramid Song“
An atmospheric, piano-driven ballad from the edgy Oxford band that builds on the jazz rhythms of drummer Phil Selway, and acoustic bass provided by Colin Greenwood. The song was originally recorded during the Kid A sessions, but ended up on Amnesiac. –KS

44. Kings of Leon, “Sex on Fire“
Ostensibly an ode to diseases both emotional and venereal, this is where KoL grabbed the brass ring and did a victory lap or two around the U.S. to show it off. –RS

43. Twista (feat. Jamie Foxx & Kanye West) “Slow Jamz“
There’s just something that WORKS about this pair-up of slow grooves and fast raps. Jamie Foxx also provides quite a nice vocal turn (I especially like the way he pronounces Minnie Ripperton). Let it be known, though, that Mr. West steals the show; not only with his tremendous production, but perhaps the decade’s best “couplet”:

“She got a light skinned friend, look like Michael Jackson
Got a dark skinned friend, look like Michael Jackson” –MB

42. KT Tunstall, “Black Horse & the Cherry Tree”
Tunstall dragged the Bo Diddley beat into the 21st century with her debut single, which attracted a worldwide audience – though, in the U.S., about 30 million heard it first via Katharine McPhee’s rendition on American Idol. Nothing wrong with that – Idol brought Ray LaMontagne’s “Trouble” to the masses that same year, and it was just the exposure Tunstall needed to break out of the usual “next big thing” trap and become the actual … you know … next big thing. –JC

41. Kelly Clarkson, “Breakaway“
I prefer this track to “Since U Been Gone,” probably because a lot more songs coming out of the auto-tuned throats of faux-punk hipsters and processed Disney queens sound like that song than this one. This, for me, is just a beautiful ballad that avoids the bombastic trends of more diva-esque productions, while showcasing the true talent of the first (and by far the best) American Idol winner. –MB

40. Justin Timberlake, “Sexyback”
A few years ago I remember Kanye West saying that Justin Timberlake should be the #1 artist on the planet (right before stating that he himself is actually that guy, of course) if only he released some music – and he’s right. Justin Timberlake can do no wrong. Two great albums after leaving a boy band, television and movie appearances where he’s proven to be pretty damn funny and a collaborator with many, he’s almost untouchable. Except for the fact that he only releases an album every four years. If he were to crank out more undeniably catchy and unique songs like “Sexyback” who knows how huge he’d be right now. –DS

39. Ryan Adams, “New York, New York“
Two weeks after 9/11, Gold found its way into my CD player, introducing itself with this ode to a woman and the city she most resembles. A classic was born, as was an artist whose ambitions far exceeded anything we had previously thought possible from him. -–RS

38. Yeah Yeah Yeahs, “Maps“
Written about lead singer Karen O’s then-boyfriend Angus Andrew of Liars, “Maps” is the love song indie kids and hipsters were waiting for. Released as a single from the band’s 2003 debut full-length album, Fever to Tell, it became a hit after its video started getting heavy airplay on MTV. Apparently, Kelly Clarkson loved it so much that its guitar break is allegedly replicated in her hit, “Since U Been Gone,” about which Karen O had this to say in a 2006 Rolling Stone interview: “It was like getting bitten by a poisonous varmint.” Ouch. –KeSt

37. Gorillaz, “Clint Eastwood“
It sounds like a match made in Hell – Damon Albarn, Dan The Automator, and throw in cartoon personae, all doing some loopy, island-inflected hip-hop thing. Instead, everything falls together to make one of the most enjoyable, if bizarre, albums of the decade. And why is it called “Clint Eastwood” anyway? –DWD

36. The New Pornographers, “The Bleeding Heart Show”
Like a 1970s glee club staring down the edge of the abyss, the New Pornographers’ mass of voices, pared to Boho-paranoid lyrics in an ever-building swell is not for everyone. But if you’re at all interested in power pop featuring Neko Case’s tone-perfect voice, this might be for you. –DWD

35. The Flaming Lips, “Do You Realize??”
Of all the places to hear a Flaming Lips tune, my exposure came from a TV commercial. Before that, all I had was vague recollections of hearing “She Don’t Use Jelly,” but this mini-epic of a song hooked me well enough that I had to purchase Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots by week’s end – a purchase I don’t regret in the slightest. –DWD

34. David Gray, “Babylon“
Let go your heart / Let go your head / And feel it now. I felt it from the moment I first heard it, afterwards sitting in an idling car outside an Italian restaurant where my family waited for me as I prayed the DJ would back-announce the track. -–RS

33. R. Kelly, “Ignition (Remix)”
Now known as one of R. Kelly’s signature songs, the remix to “Ignition” was hot and fresh out the kitchen and one of the biggest panty droppers of 2003. A club favorite — girls could get all sexy and guys could sing along and not look totally lame — it’s no doubt there are some five-year-olds in this world that owe their existence to Jack Daniels and R. Kelly. –DS

32. Justin Timberlake “Cry Me a River“
This song might as well have been titled “Britney, you bitch!” This middle finger to an emotionally abusive lover was the song that turned Justin from “that guy from N’Sync” to “Justin Timberlake.” Helped along by Timbaland’s sympathetic production (complete with goth twist), this was JT’s first step away from simply being a Michael Jackson clone and toward being an actual artist with something unique to say. –MB

31. Arctic Monkeys, “I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor“
A blast of fresh air from Sheffield, “Dance Floor” was the Monkeys’ first single. The song skillfully employs a Clash-like punk intensity with a bass and drum workout that kept the punters moving. An early sign of good things to come from the young band. –KS

30. Adele, “Chasing Pavements“
If you want a giggle, go to Urbandictionary.com and type in “chasing pavements,” then click to the second page. According to Adele, her song was banned from several U.S. radio stations because of some of those crazy misinterpretations of the phrase. Kids these days… The song, which was the second single from Adele’s critically-acclaimed debut album, 19, won two Grammys and garnered her immediate comparisons to Amy Winehouse — for her voice, that is; Adele, is not a hot mess. –KeSt

29. The Knife, “Heartbeats“
The song that took the blogosphere by storm and introduced the world to Swedish brother and sister duo The Knife, “Heartbeats” is a practically perfect synth-pop song. But what stands out to me the most is its lyrics, which are unexpectedly poignant and beautiful. The interesting thing is that the covers of this song, at least the ones I’ve heard, are just as wonderful as the original. My favorites are José González’s stripped-down, folk version and Scala & Kolacny Brothers’ version, which turns the song into a simple piano ballad sung by a choir of teenage girls. For what it’s worth, this was my pick for best song of the decade. –KeSt

28. Amy Winehouse, “Rehab“
Rarely does a recording define an artist so perfectly, for better or for worse, than “Rehab” does for the brilliant but self-destructive Winehouse. Updating early-’60s orchestral pop into a sound that conjures Shirley Bassey working with Phil Spector, Winehouse created a classic backdrop for a thoroughly modern (not to mention autobiographical) lyrical conceit – one that, within a year of its Grammy sweep, would come to seem less defiant than foolish as her substance-abuse and health issues became frightening tabloid fodder. –JC

27. The Darkness, “I Believe In a Thing Called Love”
To complain about the Darkness being a joke band is to admit that you’ve missed the joke — which is exquisite and all-encompassing, taking in every detail of the band’s sound and presentation, from Justin’s wonky teeth to the car-radio tone of the opening guitars. The only possible disagreement can be as to which detail is most delightful; the bass player’s nerdy eagerness, or the drummer’s utter disdain? The mere fact of a grown man squealing “Gee-tar!!”, or the unhinged glee with which he does so? Heady debates, indeed. –JF

26. Gorillaz, “Feel Good Inc.”
My daughter. Thirteen. Artist, music lover, rugged individualist. I went to put away some laundry one summer Monday, and saw this on her bedroom wall:

Over the weekend, she had painted this mural in acrylics.

It’s a nice enough pieces of draftsmanship, but what really got me is the little unfinished detail on the left. Maybe it’s supposed to be Noodle, but I think it’s a secret self-portrait; so caught up in this hip-pop fantasia that she was inspired to literally pencil herself in at its edges. There is, for me, no further argument necessary for the greatness of “Feel Good Inc.” –JF

25. Green Day, “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”

24. Death Cab for Cutie, “I Will Possess Your Heart”
To paraphrase Roger Ebert, a good song is always exactly the right length, while a bad song, however short, is always too long. With “I Will Possess Your Heart,” four and a half minutes of instrumental slowburn elapse before the lyrics kick in, and it’s not a second too much. As the stalker so sick in the head that he mistakes love for ownership, Gibbard has never sounded so convincing; but it’s the maddening, obstinate bassline that really sells it. –JF

23. Death Cab for Cutie, “I Will Follow You into the Dark“
The coolest-ever way of saying, “‘Til death do us part’ is simply not enough.” -–Rob Smith

22. Outkast, “Bombs Over Baghdad (B.O.B.)”
Big Boi and Andre 3000 couldn’t have had even the slightest idea how prescient that title was. 18 months after the song was released, the tragedy of 9/11 and the subsequent invasion of Iran gave this post-apocalyptic mix-up of Miami bass and jungle (with a gospel choir thrown in) a much sinister meaning. This song set the bar for hip-hop experimentation in the 21st century. –MH

21. Scissor Sisters, “I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’”
The best disco song in at least a quarter-century features quite the pedigree – an American glam-rock group that’s achieved little success in its homeland but is massively popular overseas, working with its hero, Elton John, to create a track that apes Leo Sayer. The result is straight outta summer 1977 – it features Star Wars-style laser gun effects, for crying out loud! – and really ought to have been released inside a Casablanca Records sleeve. –JC

20. Franz Ferdinand “Take Me Out”
Somewhere in the grunge era, rockers forgot how to dance. Scottish band Franz Ferdinand were one of the bands that brought the groove back to indie rock, inspiring a heap of late-decade bands inspired more by Duran Duran than Seventies punk. Alex Kapranos’ arch delivery and the song’s ambiguous meaning (was it about being taken out like a date, or about being taken out, like…killed?) helped to make it the breakthrough hit for this band. –MH

19. Kanye West, “Jesus Walks”
Moving from an expression of devotion and vulnerability to a “Bring the Noise”-style boast, “Jesus Walks” is mildly schizophrenic, to say the least. As a dude with my own complicated relationship with Mr. Christ, I can relate. The martial cadence — marching music for soldiers of the Cross — is straight-up thrilling, even for agnostics; and Kanye’s confusion, as it became more familiar, would never again sound quite so endearing. –JF

18. Coldplay, “Clocks”
The relentless and (throughout 2003) inescapable “Clocks” features one of rock’s all-time great piano riffs, a descending-scale progression that brings to the song both a driving immediacy and a strangely elegiac quality. It’s matched with an inscrutable lyric that one tends to experience in snippets, rather than in total – phrases like “curse missed opportunities” occasionally waft above the mix, but only briefly distract from that … incessant … riff. You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you? Well, congratulations, it’ll be in your head for the rest of the day now. This is the track that took Coldplay from their early-aughts status as a point on the Radiohead-to-Travis continuum to thinking they could challenge U2 as The World’s Biggest Band. Don’t blame the song, though. –JC

17. M.I.A., “Paper Planes“
The single that seemed to be everywhere during 2008 is three minutes of revolutionary, polyglot globalism. Built on the groove from the Clash classic “Straight to Hell” – which itself was an indictment of immigrants’ treatment in the West, permeated with southeast-Asian tonal influences – “Paper Planes” takes much the same approach, mocking the perception of dark-skinned immigrants as somehow dangerous. The lyrical patois, and the sound of cash registers and gunshots in the chorus, imbued the track with exotic and political undertones, and made the song an ideal vehicle for imparting multiculturalism and rebellion. That explains its use in movie trailers for Pineapple Express and Capitalism, A Love Story – and the indelible impression it leaves at a key moment in Slumdog Millionaire. A magnet for both remixes and controversy (much of it related to the song’s provocations and M.I.A.’s background as a member of Sri Lanka’s Tamil minority), “Paper Planes” will be remembered as nothing less than the sound of its historical moment. How many songs can say that? –JC

16. Beyonce, “Crazy in Love”
Her first solo single blew out the speakers like a long-lost, celebratory finale of Wattstax – finally establishing Beyonce as the heiress to Ruth Brown and Etta James and Diana Ross and Aretha Franklin. “Crazy in Love” had one foot in R&B’s past and one in its present – its horn- riff hook is lifted from the Chi-Lites’ 1970 hit “Are You My Woman? (Tell Me So),” while Jay-Z provides the rare guest appearance by a rapper that actually enhances a track’s excitement quotient, rather than bringing it down. This is where Beyonce became pop royalty, and she’s worn the crown well ever since. –JC

15. Foo Fighters, “The Pretender“
An admission, a question, a warning, and a battle cry. Once again, Grohl, Inc. frontloads an album with a shit-hot single that slays everything in its path. –RS

14. Dixie Chicks, “Not Ready to Make Nice“
If you haven’t heard about the controversy the Dixie Chicks kicked up in 2003 when lead singer Natalie Maines declared on stage in London that she was ashamed to be from the same state as President George W. Bush, I would recommend you watch the excellent documentary Shut Up and Sing, which chronicles the Chicks’ lives after the comment and their journey to make their seventh album, Taking the Long Way. Released as the first single from that record, “Not Ready to Make Nice” is a direct reaction to that controversy and how they were treated by fans and the country music establishment, as well as a declaration that they won’t apologize for their feelings and opinions (though Maines has said the song was written to have a more universal interpretation). It deservedly won three Grammys, including Record of the Year and Song of the Year. I wasn’t really much of Chicks fan previously, though one of my good friends really tried to make me one over the years. But this song, and their passion for their beliefs, totally won me over. –KeSt

13. Prince, “Black Sweat”
It was a bit of a shock back in 2004 when Prince released Musicology, giving the world his best music in nearly a decade. So when he followed it up with an ever better album – 3121 – it was a little mind-blowing. The centerpiece of the record was one of his funkiest songs ever, “Black Sweat.” A nice quick burst of energy that almost makes you want to break out the robot, Prince brought back a slight bit of the sexual innuendo that made him so famous which was a nice change from the clean, spiritual Prince we’d seen for a few years now. The video just enhanced the appeal with a simple black & white picture and a lady dancing all sexy-like. But who can forget the disgusted look on his face at the most memorable part of the song, “You’ll be screamin’ like a white lady when I count to three/one, two, three.” Nice to see the old guy still has memorable songs in him. –DS

12. White Stripes, “Seven Nation Army”
From 2003’s Elephant album, the track the put the White Stripes on the map. Meg White beats the drums like a bad habit, while Jack White weighs in with some Jimmy Page-inspired guitar riffage. Is that a bass guitar I hear? The place where Led Zeppelin meets the future. –KS

11. Eminem, “Lose Yourself”
If the “Rabbit” character was 8 Mile’s Rocky Balboa, then “Lose Yourself” was the movie’s “Eye of the Tiger.” A hip-hop twist on the “succeeding against all odds” theme that’s the subject of many classic films, Eminem attacks this song with a hunger missing from much of his recent music. Tongue-twisting his way through a variety of internal rhyme schemes, “Lose Yourself” also ranks as possibly the most lyrically complex hip-hop song to ever hit #1 on the pop charts. –MH

10. Green Day, “American Idiot“
It blasted its way onto the radio in September 2004, right in the middle of a re-election race that half the country couldn’t imagine George Bush might win. Even as Fox News and a multimillion-dollar ad campaign snowed a nation’s gullible booboisie into believing an upstanding war hero was a flip-flopping coward, Green Day arrived to rail against the “subliminal mind-fuck” being perpetrated daily by America’s corporate media. Billie Joe Armstrong took no prisoners in his attacks on the conservative “redneck agenda” and the “age of paranoia” it was creating, and “American Idiot” quickly (if not quite quickly enough) became an anthem of disillusionment and antagonism toward the post-9/11 Powers That Were. It’s the song that should be placed in every time-capsule remembrance of the 21st century’s first decade – and hopefully, by the time those capsules are exhumed, its sentiments will seem unnecessary, its targets archaic and ridiculous. But probably not. –JC

9. Jimmy Eat World, “The Middle“
The band has been branded as a pioneer of the emo scene, but this song seems more like power pop’s last stand against emo, not just the sound, but the lyrics, which aim more for a straight-edged positivity than black-clad depression. This song is a big, greasy slab of hooks arranged like punk’s little brother, condensing everything that Green Day wanted to be during their first decade into two minutes and forty-nine seconds, making it less cynical, and then blowing it away. For this decade of auto-tuning and digital compression, bands supplemented by session musicians and teams of songwriters. this was as good as straight-ahead, mass-consumable rock got: a tight, multi-layered, chugging riff that quickly got under your skin and stayed there; a big, fat, underwater bassline connecting the guitars to the drums; a singalong chorus (with harmonies!); and, perhaps most important, no desire to mess around with any pre-choruses, bridges, or outros. Get in. Rock. Get out. Repeat. –MB

8. Bruce Springsteen, “The Rising“
As the story goes, after the 9/11 attacks, Bruce Springsteen was driving through his hometown when a stranger called out to him, “We need you!” The nation was hurting and needed an anthem. Not some jingoistic call to arms against our enemies, but a song that brought people together, blue, red, black, white, yellow and brown; a song that paid tribute to the heroes who fought valiantly on that tragic day.From that plea from a fan came the album The Rising, and its magnificent title track. Sung from the perspective of a spirit rising up to heaven, the imagery of “The Rising” is inspiring and heartbreaking. Whether backed majestically by his faithful E Street Band, or played acoustically by just the Boss and his guitar, “The Rising” is not only one of the best songs in the past decade, but on of the best in Springsteen’s storied career. –SM

7. Eminem, “Stan“
Eminem hears from a obsessed fan, who expresses disappointment that he hasn’t gotten a response to his previous communications. The letters grow ever more desperate in tone. By the time Eminem sits down to write back, it’s too late, fate has intervened. A compelling look at the pitfalls of fame, and the the danger of becoming obsessed with our heroes. A fictional story, but frighteningly real. –KS

6. Johnny Cash, “Hurt“
If only Trent Reznor could write a song like “Hurt,” it’s hard to imagine anyone but Johnny Cash making it sound like a standard. His glorious baritone worn down from age, he intones the lyrics like a man writing his own grim eulogy — which, given his health at the time, may very well have been true. The arrangement is as starkly powerful as anything on the Rick Rubin-produced American series, of course, but something about “Hurt” stands out. Ultimately, the video is what drove it all home: it’s hard to imagine a more powerful image than Johnny Cash, one of America’s most iconic figures, suddenly looking so vulnerable, so human, so utterly spent. Nine Inch Nails were one of many young bands in the ’90s who practically romanticized pain and death, but for one instance we were allowed to see the other side of it, the fear and regret we rarely like to acknowledge until faced with our own mortality. In this sense, Johnny Cash took Trent Reznor’s Hurt and made it universal. Though one could argue wether it’s the definitive reading of the song (Trent’s own solo piano version, as demonstrated at the React Now benefit, is fairly devastating), that’s almost besides the point. More than any other song on this list, “Hurt” now has all the makings of a future classic. RIP, Johnny. –Anthony Hansen

5. Jay-Z “99 Problems”
Def Jam’s founder crossed paths with one of the label’s biggest artists on a song that caused hip-hop fans of all stripes to lose one in their collective pants. Rubin’s ground-shaking collage of samples (Billy Squier and Mountain!) provided the perfect backdrop for an icy cool Jay-Z to give the finger to critics and racist cops. While Jay was already pretty established as the alpha emcee, Rubin’s production left rap fans hoping he’d return to the genre full-time. Extra points for having the best use of cowbell on a rap record ever. –MH

4. Kelly Clarkson, “Since U Been Gone”
Forget the drippy, inspirational bland-outs we had come to expect from American Idol winners – Clarkson blew them out of the water with this joyfully rocking kiss-off to an ex-boyfriend, written by Swedish teen-pop hitmeisters Max Martin and Dr. Luke. Appropriating alt-rock’s soft/loud dichotomy and giving it a delicious, electronics-enhanced sheen, “Since U Been Gone” was so perfect that it became the template for girl-power pop through the remainder of the decade – including other Martin-created confections like Pink’s “So What,” Katy Perry’s “Hot N Cold” and Clarkson’s own “My Life Would Suck Without You.” –JC

3. Rihanna, “Umbrella“
First, it’s the drum loop: an old school beat like they used back in the 1980’s. Then it’s the quick, effective Jay-Z guest rap, harkening back to the mid-90’s and Dr. Dre’s intro for Blackstreet’s “No Diggity.” Finally it’s into this decade: crunked-out, almost sci-fi keyboard backings, growing stronger each time through the verse and chorus, only letting up for the bridge before pouncing back in to help drive the final chorus home. And on top of all that is Rhianna’s vocals, which harken back to any of these three decades. And the hooks….the hooks! Of course there’s the “Ella…ella…hey, hey” that forces itself into your brain, walking a tightrope between cool and annoying. But the chorus itself is just a great progression, helped out even more by a bit of dissonance in the keyboard arrangement keeper the listener on edge just enough that it’s almost impossible to treat the song like background music. And then, there’s a subtle hook just among the interplay of voice and chords in the verse. With it’s incorporation of influences brought together in a mashup of rap, hip-hop, Top 40, R&B and studio effects, this may be the track that most defined pop music in the ’00s. –MB

2. Gnarls Barkley, “Crazy”
Not so long ago, a song’s success was measured not in how many records, but in how many copies of the sheet music were sold. The idea that a musical composition is somehow inseparable from a single definitive recording comes not from the world of pop, but from musique concrete — “concrete” meaning that the music itself was intrinsic to a particular physical object, i.e., the master tape of the recording. It’s an idea that’s only two generations old, but it shapes a conversation that subsumes elements of both culture and economics: Music as cultural product to be assimilated (i.e., music as meme) vs. Music as commodity to be consumed as-is.

The notion that every good song must by definition pass the campfire test — i.e., that you could sing it the accompaniment of an acoustic guitar — is probably unnecessarily reductive. But I would argue that such songs are more memetically robust than songs structured around recording-studio frippery, which may be very beautiful indeed but are something of a hothouse flower, less likely to survive in the larger memepool. E.g.: Not only can you not strum Fatboy Slim’s “Praise You” on an acoustic guitar, you can’t even sing it in the shower, because human voices just don’t do that. Likewise, the idea of publishing sheet music for “Praise You” is laughable. Although ostensibly a vocal number, it’s entirely a creation of the studio — irreproducible. Incapable of reproduction (though obviously of mass production). Sterile, in the dictionary sense.

Music that’s highly structured, though — highly reproducible, standing up to multiple interpretations in a variety of contexts while still remaining essentially itself — is music as meme; participatory, samizdat, evolving. If it lasts long enough, it becomes a folk song — the original authorship is forgotten and the notion of “ownership” becomes moot: it “belongs” to anyone who sings it. Musique concrete, on the other hand — highly produced but irreproducible — is music as commodity: encapsulated in a particular physical object, it cannot be “performed” as such, only bought and sold.

Such were the propositions we were arguing, in the heady early days of 2006. Accusations of “rockism” were being thrown, and even of racism, since a lack of “proper tunes” is often invoked as being exactly what’s wrong with contemporary black-identified music. Then “Crazy” came out, and with it the nine days’ wonder of other artists covering “Crazy”; some of them were goofs or thrill-seekers or trend-hoppers, but most were responding to the head-colonizing earworm vigor of the thing. In the end, the argument was neither won nor lost; we were all so busy singing along that we forgot all about it. –JF

1. Outkast, “Hey Ya”
It really shouldn’t have come as such a shock. Their previous hit, “Ms. Jackson” (from the Stankonia album) alluded to the fact that Big Boi and Andre 3000 were full-blooded pop stars. They just needed a confection with a little more bounce and, brother, did they ever get it. Married to the sound of some mid-’60s dance craze that never was, “Hey Ya” exemplified something very few tunes of the time had; a sense of fun. It shares that retro-soul feel found on this list’s #2 selection, and like that tune, “Hey Ya” was overplayed, even by modern radio’s ADHD standards. But unlike other songs that dominated the pop charts for a season, and just as likely wore out their welcome in time for autumn colors to surface on the trees, the ghost of “shakin’ it like a Polaroid picture” can still put a smile on your face. –DWD

This will serve, for the time being anyway, as my final Cover Me. Cold, hard reality is beckoning, so I must put my toys aside and be a grown-up for a change. But don’t worry, Cover Me will continue. You will be in the very capable hands of Michael Parr starting with the next quiz. I’d like to thank everyone who played, and especially those who came back for more. Most of all I’d like to thank Scraps for launching Name That Tune, thus giving me the idea for Cover Me. I’m looking forward to playing the game like the rest of you.

Below are magnified fragments of album covers. Most of them are well-known albums, but there are a few obscure covers (or lesser-known albums from well-known artists) mixed in to keep you honest. You must guess both the artist and album cover. In order to keep things simple, live albums, soundtracks and singles compilations will not be used, and with all apologies to our European and Japanese friends, we are going with the covers that appeared in the US record stores…back when we had record stores. Sigh.

The rules are the same as Name That Tune. Each player can make three guesses between updates (“Update” is defined as “The time when I post a comment listing all of the covers that have been guessed correctly,” “Guess” is defined as “any attempt to identify a single cover”), so everyone will have a chance to contribute. And, just to spice things up, we have a puzzle cover this week, yay! One guess per player of the puzzle between updates, please.

There is no acrostic this week, but there is a theme. What better way to go out than to break the last rule that had yet to be broken?

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Lastly, the Puzzle Cover

I suggest subscribing to the comments on the post (click on “Track Comments”) to more easily follow the progress of the game. Remember, maximum of three guesses between updates of the list. Have fun!

FIREHOUSE
TITLE: “Don’t Treat Me Bad”
ALBUM: Firehouse
RELEASE DATE: Aug. 21, 1990

Why You Remember Them: For one of two reasons: Either for their two-ply, baby-soft semi-rocker “Don’t Treat Me Bad,” in which our protagonist testifies, at some length, about being treated bad (he’s against it), or the power-tool ballad “Love of a Lifetime,” which actually caused spontaneous intestinal combustion in listeners in California in 1990. Oh, of course you didn’t hear about that in your elitist anti-Firehouse mainstream media.

Number Of Your Judgmental Hypocrites Who Bought This Record in 1990: 2 million. I see you, Bradshaw.

Key Tracks: “Don’t Treat Me Bad,” “Love of a Lifetime,” “All She Wrote”

Means by Which Firehouse Served as Unintentional Metaphor for the Uncomfortably Visible Death of a Major Awards Telecast: Legendarily, at the 1992 American Music Awards, Firehouse won for best New Hard Rock/Metal Band over Alice in Chains and Saigon Kick. Wait, I mean Nirvana. Their acceptance speech, in short, went something like this: “Guys, we are so, so sorry.”

Number of Firehouses You Have to Click Through on Google to Get to This One: Two: the sandwich-based fast-food chain and, you know, one about people who fight fires and junk.

Is There Some Way the Director of the Video Could Work in That Band Name?: Fantastic question. How about a piping-hot “circle of fire” effect that pretty much is a frame-by-frame remake of the opening of Bonanza? DONE. Also, how about a set decorated with as many tiny, controlled sort-of-blazes as a $650 budget would allow. DONE. What about even an album cover in which a strangely unattractive model stands in front of a mural of a building with flame decals taped on it? PRINT IT, LUCY.

Is There Chest Hair in That Video?: God, is there.

But America Sucks. Is There Some Other Place They’re Still Popular?: Yes! Much like the execrable Mr. Big, Firehouse remained huge in Japan, Thailand and Singapore, where music fans are dumb. According to the Wikipedia Internet Machine, Firehouse is estimated to have sold 7 million albums worldwide. Do you hear that, American Music Awards? You can come out now!

Best Part of Their Wikipedia Entry: “The band’s first Indian date, in Shillong When the Maharaja of Tripura Kirit Pradyot Deb Burman invited them, took place in front of a sold out stadium crowd of over 40,000.” Way to suck, Mayor Burman.

Most Improbable Song Title: They’re actually all really innocuous: “Reach for the Sky,” “Body Language,” “Take Me Away,” “Jumpin’ .” FireHouse may be the only hair band in the world to have avoided the post-Nirvana self-loathing freakout. YAWN.

Recent News: The song “Don’t Walk Away” appeared in The Wrestler, marking the 13th time that Firehouse and Bruce Springsteen appeared on the same Mickey Rourke soundtrack.

Arbitarily Scored Ferocity of Devil-Horns Thrust: 1. Fire bad.

Before we dig in, though, I’d like to take a moment to give thanks, not only for the fellowship of my fellow writers and editors and the attention and warm comments from faithful DbPB readers (both of you), but also for the fine, often under-appreciated music I am fortunate enough to feature under the DbPB banner. And, if you’re not too ravenous (yes, Ken, I see the knife you’re wielding), I would like to present you with a gift right now.

You probably noticed during his interminable Thanksgiving blessing that Jason quoted from Benny Mardones’ “Into the Night” four times (dude, I don’t think the merlot is “just 16 years old”—the bottle says it’s 2008 vintage). While those of us gathered around this very table have been known to poke fun at the number of times St. Benny has recorded his only hit single, he can’t touch the volume of recorded versions of one of the great pillars of the power ballad arts, Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again.” “Here I Go Again” has been recorded 22,387 times.

My dwarf valet Passepartout is handing out to each of you a CD with six of those 22,387 versions. It’s a Coverdale cornucopia, if you will. Each disc contains the following:

• The original. Recorded in 1982 for the Saints & Sinners album. You’ll notice several things immediately: the church organ that opens the song, the guitars that sound ripped from Bad Company, and David Coverdale’s un-reverbed vocal. Oh, yeah, and there’s the chorus, which contains the line “Like a hobo I was born to walk alone.” Rumor has it Coverdale changed the “hobo” reference on future recordings, because he didn’t want American audiences to think he was singing, “Like a homo I was born to walk alone.” Like we Americans couldn’t tell an antiquated reference to homeless vagabonds from a gay slur. What a retar—I mean, idiot.
• The 1987 album cut. This is the one you know, if you listened to rock radio back in ‘87. The beginning of the guitar solo reminds me of the beginning of the guitar solo for Scandal’s “Hands Tied.” Some day I’ll do one of those side-by-side comparison MP3s, but the sweet potatoes are getting cold.
• The single mix. This is the one you know, if you listened to Top 40 radio back in ‘87. It dismisses the dramatic keyboard opening of the album cut, in favor of going straight into the first verse. Lots more keyboards in this version, and a different, crappier guitar solo, played by Dann Huff, from the band Giant (who also played on several Peter Cetera and Michael Bolton numbers, so you know his rock cred was stellar). Compared to the album version, this one sucks, yet it topped the charts. Go figure.
• The “Starkers in Tokyo” version. In 1997, Coverdale released a “Whitesnake” record called Starkers in Tokyo, consisting of “unplugged” versions of ‘Snake tunes played live by him and Adrian Vandenberg. It’s an interesting variation, though it’s pretty obvious that Coverdale had spent the previous two or three years of downtime gargling gravel instead of practicing hitting high notes.
• The “Live … in the Still of the Night” version. Whitesnake obviously consists of David Coverdale and whomever he feels like playing with on any given day (the current lineup includes Winger guitarist Reb Beach, Don Henley’s old keyboard player Timothy Drury, and the late Will Geer on Jew’s harp). Recorded in London in 2004, this one features a tight band, a fine-voiced Coverdale, and the requisite audience singalong.
• The “Live … in the Shadow of the Blues” version. This 2006 recording is virtually indistinguishable from the previous version, though Coverdale’s voice does sound a bit more ragged than it did for the London show.

I recommend listening to all six versions in one sitting, really loud, while drinking a strong beverage or three. And just because I love you all, I also dug up a dance version of the song, performed by a Polish person:

Okay, then, let’s eat. Word of warning, though—if you’d seen what I saw Giles doing to the pumpkin pie earlier, you’d know why I’m going to skip dessert.

An Evening of Magic was made on the tour for the album that preceded it — Mangione’s chart-topping record Feels So Good — and it features the same band. Chuck’s band on this record is, to my ear, the best he ever had. These five guys — Chuck on flügelhorn and electric piano, Chris Vadala on saxophones and flute, Grant Geissman on guitar, Charles Meeks on the bass, and James Bradley, Jr. on drums — work together in that way that every great band should. They anticipate each others’ moves, breathe as one, and constantly find new heights during both the solos and the ensemble passages. The quintet is augmented by an orchestra, but it’s the five-man unit that forms the heart of this recording. I still find it just as thrilling as I did in the late 80s when I bought those cassettes.

I’ve seen Mangione twice in concert. Once was a 25th reunion show of the Feels So Good band, and they were just as good the second time around. I saw him again at the Eastman Theatre in his hometown of Rochester, NY, during a massive production in the mid-’90s that included many of his bandmates from years past. Also a thrilling show.

For many “hardcore” jazzheads, admitting a burning passion for Chuck Mangione just isn’t cool. I think a large part of that stems from the fact that Mangione became a household name with the song “Feels So Good,” which hit #2 on the Billboard 200 in 1978. The album itself was #1 on the Billboard Jazz Albums chart the year before. (Remember when there was a Billboard Jazz Albums chart? Me either.) In subsequent years, Mangione has appeared everywhere from Magnum, P.I. to King of the Hill. And while those appearances seem good-natured, it always feels to me like there’s a bit of condescension, a knowing wink, happening too. (”Aren’t we ironic? It’s Chuck Mangione, people!”) It’s so rare for jazz to become popular that there must be something wrong with it, right?

The thing is, sometimes popular music is also good music. In the case of “Feels So Good,” Mangione wrote an immediately singable melody, and Grant Geissman crushes his guitar solo in one of my all-time favorite performances. I like my music in all shapes and sizes, and one of those shapes is melodic. I’ll get crazy to a free-blowing workout any day, but I also love a solo so melodic that it could be a tune on its own. That’s what Geissman achieves on “Feels So Good.”

“‘Feels So Good’ is a beautifully written composition,” drummer Jae Sinnett told me recently. Sinnett is an active musician, educator and broadcaster who played a series of shows in 1988 with Mangione. “If it were released today, however, it wouldn’t be a hit in my view. Not because of lack of commercial appeal, but because it would be considered too hip for today’s commercial radio formats.”

Mangione himself is an underappreciated soloist. The guy can really play his horn, and I’ve seldom heard anyone sound as powerful and as lyrical on the difficult flügelhorn as he does. His range alone is impressive — he sounds just as comfortable at the extreme top end of the horn as he does when playing in the flügelhorn’s more natural middle register.

Trumpeter and bass clarinetist Matt Lavelle agrees: “He’s a great flügelhorn player, and composer, too. Feels So Good was my first ‘trumpet’ record as a kid.”

He’s also one of those writers from whom melodies flow like water down a mountain. He writes gorgeous ballads (see “Bellavia” or “Chase The Clouds Away”), brings the funk (”Hill Where The Lord Hides” or “Fun And Games”) and throws down some up-tempo tunes, too (”Main Squeeze” is a prime example). And he’s never confined himself to the standard quintet format. His film soundtrack Children Of Sanchez is a fully-orchestrated tour de force that’s every bit as memorable and tuneful as his small-band hits.

To the casual pop radio listener in the 1970s, it probably seemed as though Mangione materialized from thin air. From a jazz perspective, though, nothing could be further from the truth. Mangione’s jazz chops came through rigorous study and bandstand dues-paying. Mangione’s father took him and his brother Gap (now a successful pianist in Rochester, NY, with whom I’ve done several radio interviews) to see every name act who came through town. He formed a friendship with Dizzy Gillespie that lasted all of Gillespie’s life. Mangione’s first band with Gap, The Jazz Brothers, included straight-ahead stalwarts such as drummer Roy McCurdy (later wth Cannonball Adderley), saxophonist Sal Nistico (later with Woody Herman’s Herd) and bassist Steve Davis (who plays bass on one of the most famous jazz recordings of all time, John Coltrane’s “My Favorite Things.”) When Mangione left Rochester, his first stop was playing with Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers.

Mangione may have moved his music in a more electric, commercially successful direction, but he didn’t do it at the expense of the music itself. His compositions are filled with interesting harmonic devices and strong melodies, and his improvisational abilities on his instrument are beyond question. In fact, I debated even writing this paragraph, because there’s really nothing to explain or justify. Mangione’s music is worthy of respect and rewards repeated listening. And it’s fun as hell, too. (I know — more salty language.)

Finally, an apocryphal story about the pronunciation of Mangione’s last name. Someone once told me about hearing Chuck on the radio. The interviewer asked, “Is it man-JONE or man-JONE-ee?” To which Chuck replied, “Is it spa-GET or spa-GET-ee?” ‘Nuff said.

We begin with the decade’s best movies — and, if nothing else, our list is certainly genre-film-friendly: Somewhere in the middle, Let the Right One In, Hellboy, Hot Fuzz and Mulholland Drive sit proudly side by side. Because our crew of participants isn’t all that big (11 of Popdose’s writers contributed), a few personal favorites that one might not expect somehow earned enough votes to make the cut (hello, Dodgeball!); nonetheless, we were all pleasantly surprised to see that our compiled Top 100 offers such a nice balance of prestige films and high-quality popcorn fare. Of course, since this list is being posted before Thanksgiving, 2009’s holiday films (and likely Oscar bait) aren’t represented; over the coming months we’ll no doubt be kicking ourselves that we didn’t yet know the quality of films like Up in the Air, Invictus, The Lovely Bones, Nine … Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel… With that caveat in mind, away we go!

1. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (dir. Peter Jackson, 2003). I felt the stirrings of greatness watching The Fellowship of the Ring, my first truly elating experience at the movies following 9/11 that dismal year. The Two Towers confirmed that a special cinematic event was unfolding. I could sit back from 2002-03 confident that the payoff would be astounding — and it was. Another long-awaited fantasy trilogy that was also underway at that time was weak by comparison; unlearning his own lesson, George Lucas put his characters in the service of effects, rather than the other way around. Because of an iconic troupe of actors, smart scripting and taut direction over many hours, I believed completely in Middle Earth, and left it only reluctantly — but what a wrap-up, brimming with action and cascading with soul. Rarely have I been so overwhelmed. Thank you, Peter Jackson. I’m fully confident that, with your guidance, Guillermo Del Toro will put The Hobbit on my Top 100 list a decade from now. –Bob Cashill

2. Almost Famous (dir. Cameron Crowe, 2001). Crowe’s semi-autobigraphical film is a culmination of all the themes he had been working on throughout his career: first love, family, discovering who you are, and of course music. As William, Patrick Fugit is our eyes and ears into the insane world of 1970s rock and roll. Although his overprotective mother (a wonderful Frances McDormand) disapproves, William, a teenage prodigy who is about to graduate from high school early, heads off on the road with the band Stillwater. While this assignment for Rolling Stone should only last a week, William falls under the spell of the road; he falls in love with a groupie … er, I mean “band-aid” (a lovely Kate Hudson); and he breaks the cardinal rule of a rock reporter, a rule handed down to him by legendary critic Lester Bangs (Phillip Seymour Hoffman in a scene-stealing part) — he makes friends with the band. But he doesn’t just become their friend … he becomes part of their family. The relationship that develops between William and Stillwater’s charismatic guitarist, Russell Hammond (Billy Crudup in his best performance to date), is not just reporter to musician, but brother. It is odd to think that a film that lovingly uses Stevie Wonder’s “My Cherie Amour” over a drug-overdose stomach-pumping scene would end up as one of the best coming-of-age stories ever (I mean that), but Crowe’s ability to balance humor and pathos makes every scene feel like magic. This is a story about the heart, written from the heart, and no matter how many great films Crowe makes from this point forward, he can rest easy knowing he’s made his masterpiece. Oh, and there is kick-ass music throughout the film. –Scott Malchus

3. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (dir. Peter Jackson, 2001). Fellowship short-circuited my critical faculties like no other film, before or since. From its opening moments, my eyes were filled with tears, simply for how right it all was. For the full runtime, I alternately gawked and wept, and I could not form a coherent sentence for a good 45 minutes afterward. I’ve watched the film countless times since, and its flaws have become apparent even to me — but it remains, I think, the most beautiful, most faithful, and most emotionally resonant of the trilogy, thanks in no small part to Sean Bean; as Boromir, he may not get much screen time, but the tragedy of his fall haunts all the films. –Jack Feerick

4. Pan’s Labyrinth (dir. Guillermo del Toro, 2006). Mexican filmmaker del Toro’s Spanish-language parable was perhaps the most imaginative, visually arresting film of the decade. The director skillfully blends fact (the 1944 aftermath of the Spanish Civil War) with fantasy (a young girl’s retreat from the violent world of her Falangist stepfather). The film’s ending, seen by some as depressing, is actually full of hope. –Ken Shane

5. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (dir. Michel Gondry, 2004). What makes a film about forgetting so memorable? Though it dazzles with surreal effects and madcap hijinks, Eternal Sunshine is grounded in an essential human dilemma — the need to love and be loved, even after your loved one’s flaws have become distressingly apparent. This is by far the most emotionally resonant of the brilliant Charlie Kaufman’s films (he co-wrote the Oscar-winning screenplay with Gondry and performance artist Pierre Bismuth). In his second feature after making his name with commercials and music videos, Gondry creates a vivid world of memory and psychosis inside the head of protagonist Joel Barish (Jim Carrey, in one of his few great performances). Then, as Joel’s memories of girlfriend Clementine (Kate Winslet) are erased by employees of Lacuna, Inc. who have their own problems, Gondry collapses Joel’s world, both metaphysically and tangibly, in a psychotraumatic freakout that manages to be at once whimsical and devastating. –Jon Cummings

6. Memento (dir. Christopher Nolan, 2000). The audience loves a good mindgame, and Nolan served up one of the best with this story of an amnesiac who has to retrace how he arrived in a horrible situation. With the help of tattoos, recordings and other clues, we retrace those steps with him, moving forward in the film but backward in time. Guy Pearce makes the character work in an angle, amnesia, that many an actor has failed with previously. Being only Nolan’s second film, and first to gain real notoriety, Memento was an auspicious introduction to an appreciative audience. –Dw. Dunphy

7. There Will Be Blood (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson, 2007). Writer/director Anderson’s much-anticipated first feature film in five years – after 2002’s Punch Drunk Love (see #86 below) – There Will Be Blood loosely adapts Upton Sinclair’s 1927 novel Oil! into one of the most powerful films of the decade. Daniel Day-Lewis turns in a brilliant performance as oil prospector Daniel Plainview, a man whose greed takes over his life and turns him into a ruthless shell of a human being. I was mesmerized by this film and its breathtaking cinematography, gorgeous soundtrack (provided by Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood), and incredible performances by Day-Lewis and Paul Dano. It also contained one of my favorite lines of dialogue in any movie, ever: “I … drink … your … milkshake!” Indeed. –Kelly Stitzel

8. The Dark Knight (dir. Christopher Nolan, 2008). It is the bleakest superhero film ever, and Christian Bale turns on the “growly, scary” voice one too many times, but The Dark Knight finally did what no previous superhero flick could: turn the whole concept of intention on it’s head. In the Joker, we have a psychopath yearning for anarchic dystopia. There is no hidden agenda, even though, all through the film, he purports to have several. Never before has the term “criminally insane” been explored in popcorn pop culture in such an immediate way, exploding the myth that everyone has a reason for the things they do. Perhaps such a Nietzchean evil isn’t meant to be examined in a comic-book flick, but one less superhero or supervillain acting out his daddy issues is, in itself, a blessing. –Dw.D

9. Sideways (dir. Alexander Payne, 2004). A film as rich and intoxicating as the Pinot Noirs that inspire its protagonists to traipse through California’s Santa Ynez Valley, Sideways redefined the ensemble comedy on Payne’s idiosyncratic terms. He finds the heart in, and forces the audience to root for, an utterly unlikeable author/wine aficianado (the always wonderful Paul Giamatti) who’s stubborn, cynical, creatively stuck and hopeless with women. Of course, all it takes is a good, earthy woman to make him reconsider, if not completely change, his ways. (It helps that the woman is played with such exquisite understatement by Virginia Madsen, in a career-reviving performance.) Among its many other accomplishments, Sideways made a generation of filmgoers think differently about wine; all it took was one lingering shot of a vineyard picnic to send tourists streaming into Santa Ynez. Five years since its release, business is still booming at the Hitching Post restaurant in Buellton … and sales of fucking Merlot have never been the same. –JC

10. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (dir. Peter Jackson, 2002). The second chapter of the once-thought-unfilmable J.R.R. Tolkien epic, Jackson’s adaptation never falters and maintains its intensity from the first moment to the last. The potential for failure was great: Most trilogy second acts are pale imitations of the first, especially considering The Two Towers is the fantasy equivalent of a road picture, with Frodo and Samwise setting out to destroy the evil “One Ring.” It is the commitment to the fictional universe created by Jackson and WETA Workshop, and the near-transcendent performance of Andy Serkis as Gollum (in actuality a motion-captured feat of CG), that elevates the film into something entirely different from its genre-mates. –Dw.D

11. Finding Nemo (dirs. Andrew Stanton and Lee Unkrich, 2003). To my mind, this is the finest film Pixar has made since Toy Story. For their animated film about a father fish looking for his lost son, Stanton and Unkrich did not cast “big stars” but went with Albert Brooks, Ellen DeGeneres (whose career was then on a downswing) and some of the world’s greatest character actors including Stephen Root, Allison Janney and Willem Dafoe. The underwater sequences are breathtaking, the turtles are hilarious, and the whole prison-break plot is well planned and executed — but what gets you every time is the love Marlin (Brooks) has for his son Nemo (Alexander Gould). It’s difficult enough to pull off an emotional resonant film between father and son without it becoming saccharine, and Pixar did it with animated characters! This being a Pixar film, you expect it to look beautiful and you expect it to be well written and performed. But the pumping heart underneath Finding Nemo seems to be bigger than most of their other films — as big as the ocean — making it my favorite animated movie and one of the best of the last 10 years. –SM

12. No Country for Old Men (dirs. Joel and Ethan Coen, 2007). Man goes hunting. Man discovers the aftermath of a drug deal gone wrong. Man finds bag of drug money clutched in the hands of a dead dealer. Man takes money. Man is hunted by a soulless, evil assassin. Soulless, evil assassin is hunted by small-town sheriff not sure he can keep up with the latest breed of criminals. All hell breaks loose. I couldn’t stop thinking about No Country for Old Men for months after I saw it in the theater. The aforementioned soulless villain, Anton Chigurh – chillingly portrayed by Javier Bardem, who deservedly won the Best Supporting Actor Academy Award® for his performance – invaded my dreams many, many times. While there are some major differences between the book and the film, the Coen Brothers did a wonderful job with their adaptation, answering some questions the book asked and, in turn, asking new questions the viewer (and reader) may not have considered. This has become my favorite Coen Brothers movie, and is my pick for best movie of the decade. –Kelly S.

13. Shaun of the Dead (dir. Edgar Wright, 2004). No less an authority than my sainted wife calls this “the perfect date movie,” and that’s good enough for me. It would be easy, especially in a high-concept comedy like this, to resort to caricature and let the situations do the heavy lifting. But by casting honest-to-God actors rather than comedians, and giving them the space to create believable characters, director/co-writer Wright pulls off a horror romantic comedy that succeeds on all fronts — nail-bitingly tense, fall-down funny, shot through with anguish and tenderness. There’s no shortage of entrails on display in Shaun, but what shows most is its heart. –JF

14. O Brother Where Art Thou? (dirs. Joel and Ethan Coen, 2000). It’s rare when such a terrific movie boasts a soundtrack that becomes a phenomenon all on its own — but that’s the brilliance with which the Coen brothers (working with music director T Bone Burnett) used fresh recordings of “old-timey” music to propel their arch adventure-comedy. Loosely (and I mean loosely) based on Homer, O Brother sends its trio of chain-gang escapees (George Clooney, John Turturo, Tim Blake Nelson) on an odyssey of Gump-like encounters with Depression-era Southern archtypes, from a crossroads bluesman to a KKK rally, and from a getaway with Baby Face Nelson to an uneasy alliance with a good-old-boy governor. Along the way they stumble into a radio station to “sing into a can” and emerge as the Soggy Bottom Boys — and the irrepressible Clooney’s lip-syncing performances of “A Man of Constant Sorrow” were classic Coen moments. –JC

15. Slumdog Millionaire (dir. Danny Boyle, 2008). At its best, the cinema immerses us in richly textured worlds that are at once unfamiliar and yet relevant to our own experience. Slumdog Millionaire, based on the Indian novel Q&A, embodies its historical moment more than any film in recent years, introducing us to an exotic culture that is rapidly transforming itself into one more like our own — for better and for worse. It’s globalization incarnate, really, as we (along with the slumdogs themselves) watch the impoverished chaos of Bombay turn into the high-rises of Mumbai, and are introduced to the contemporary Indians who are filling our outsourced jobs even as they obsess over the same game show we do. All the while, Boyle keeps the emotions of the film’s central, at times Dickensian coming-of-age romance at the forefront — achieving a one-world universality that perfectly suits our increasingly multicultural existence. –JC

16. The Wrestler (dir. Darren Aronofsky, 2008). When my friends and I had a discussion about our favorite movies of 2008 right around Oscar time this year, and I told them my choice was The Wrestler, their immediate response was, “Really?” I can understand why they would have that reaction – it actually surprised me how much I loved it. I mean, a film about a washed-up professional wrestler trying to make a career comeback doesn’t seem like the kind of movie I would be enamored of, but it was. Between Mickey Rourke’s heartbreaking portrayal of Randy “The Ram” Robinson, whose life seems to parallel Rourke’s own in many ways; Aronofsky’s fantastic direction; Robert Siegel’s beautiful script; and Marisa Tomei’s great performance as Randy’s stripper love interest, Cassidy – a role that she said she prepared for, in part, by watching episodes of the VH1/Bret Michaels reality series, Rock of Love – there’s quite a bit to love. –Kelly S.

17. The Lives of Others (dir. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, 2006). The Cold War may be over, Germany may be reunited … but paranoia (and wiretapping) are forever. That realization helps bring a gripping immediacy to this portrait of East German totalitarianism during the mid-1980s. Our guide through East Berlin’s morass of spying, interrogation, hope and fear is Gerd Weisler (played by Ulrich Muhe), a captain in the Stasi secret police who comes to question the morality of state oppression when he becomes enveloped in the lives of a pro-Western playwright and his girlfriend, whose movements the agent is monitoring. High-stakes events unfold with increasing tension, leading to devastating consequences for all concerned. Directed with taut restraint by first-timer von Donnersmarck, The Lives of Others won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film — but easily deserved the trophy that went to The Departed later in the evening. –JC

18. Mystic River (dir. Clint Eastwood, 2003). Eastwood has become one of the world’s great directors, something that would have surprised people who knew him mainly as Dirty Harry, and a star of spaghetti westerns. He has made some of the most accomplished films of the last 20 years, and Mystic River is one of his greatest achievements. Working with a dream cast led by a brilliant Sean Penn, and featuring an underrated performance from Tim Robbins, Mystic River (based on a novel by Dennis Lehane) tells the story of three childhood friends in Boston, and the twin tragedies, 30 years apart, that lead them down different paths and eventually shatter their lives. –Ken S.

19. The Royal Tenenbaums (dir. Wes Anderson, 2001). Bigger in scope than Anderson’s 1998 breakthrough Rushmore, Tenenbaums paints a beautiful picture of adults stuck in such a state of arrested development that they still wear the same outfits as when they were young. At once funny, sad, creepy, and angry, The Royal Tenenbaums is a modern masterpiece of mood and tone. Gene Hackman is pitch-perfect as the caddish father looking to re-enter his estranged family after the money runs out, and the rest of the ensemble cast deliver some of their strongest performances to date. –Dave Lifton

20. Spirited Away (dir. Hayao Miyazaki, 2001). No filmmaker understands childhood better than Miyazaki. The character transformation at the center of Spirited Away — fearful girl discovers inner resources of strength and compassion — is familiar enough; but Miyazaki dares to make his heroine unlovely and exasperating from the start, and the whole thing plays out in a phantasmagoric animated landscape of tremendous detail and beauty. Everything is fluid — geography, identity, anatomy — and everything is up for grabs. In this world, even your name can be bought and sold; only kindness is beyond price. –JF

21. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (dir. Ang Lee, 2000). I hoped to love this movie. It had so many of the things I enjoyed about Hong Kong and Chinese cinema, including two of my very favorite stars, Chow Yun-Fat and Michelle Yeoh. And on every level it surpassed my expectations. I swooned along with a typically hipper-than-thou and tough-to-please New York Film Festival crowd who had their senses shattered and hearts broken by Lee’s first great film of the decade. –BC

22. The Prestige (dir. Christopher Nolan, 2006). This entertaining film takes us into the world of stage magicians in London at the beginning of the 20th century. The rival magicians, played by Christian Bale and Hugh Jackman (with fine support from the reliable Michael Caine), engage in an ongoing quest to better one another, and will resort to anything to achieve their goals. Their competition inevitably leads to tragedy. The film also features a quirky performance from David Bowie as scientist Nikola Tesla. –Ken S.

23. Spider-Man 2 (dir. Sam Raimi, 2004). Like Tim Burton’s Batman (1989), the first Spider-Man had some successful elements mixed in with some dubious “commercial” ones–Macy Gray? But its popularity gave Sam Raimi more latitude the second time around, resulting in a perfectly judged comic book fantasy with deliriously exciting sequences — everything involving Alfred Molina’s Dr. Octopus is stunningly realized — and a sweetly satisfying human element (the train passengers’ defense of the fallen Spider-Man is truly touching.) We’ll pass over the overstuffed third in embarrassed silence and hope for a more satisfying fourth. –BC

24. Wall-E (dir. Andrew Stanton, 2008). People quibbled with the film’s eco-friendly third act, and it does lose a bit of the silent-movie magic established at the start of it, but Wall-E represented yet another of Pixar’s story-telling successes. It may have been marketed at the kids, but it really was a solid piece of entertainment. –Dw.D

25. The Incredibles (dir. Brad Bird, 2004). A perfect populist cinema confection, wrapping a bright pop-candy shell around a chewy political center. Playing with complex ideas about individualism and altruism one moment, satirizing genre tropes the next, The Incredibles is also — despite its fantastic elements — one of the most genuine portraits of an American family ever put to film. The more you look, the more there is to see. –JF

26. High Fidelity (dir. Stephen Frears, 2000). Based on the Nick Hornby novel of the same name, this is John Cusack’s last great movie before he started making some tragic career choices (I will never forgive him for America’s Sweethearts, Serendipity or Must Love Dogs, though I guess he gets a pass from me for Max and 1408). Music nerds, lovers of lists and hopeless romantics all can find something in common with unlucky-in-love Chicago record store owner Rob and his quest to find out why he can’t seem to stay in a relationship by recounting – and revisiting – his top five break-ups. –Kelly S.

27. Coraline (dir. Henry Selick, 2009). In an age in which computers have all but replaced traditional stop-motion animation, it’s hard for a movie like Coraline to break through. It was a crafty idea to release this as one of the first of the new (sort of rehashed) trend of 3D movies. Now practically every animated movie is shown with the option of 3D. What Coraline did that was special, however, was tell a beautiful nightmare. The film is a metaphor for the struggles children have with that “other family.” You know, the one that doesn’t say no. It’s one of the best movies of 2009. –Arend Anton

28. Children of Men (dir. Alfonso Cuaron, 2006). A lot of movies have post-apocalyptic settings. Children of Men, though, shows us the End of the World as it happens, in slow motion: the petty cruelties of a society with nothing more to aspire to, the selfishness of people marking time, waiting for the extinction they know is inevitable. Clive Owen’s performance is the movie in microcosm — a life structured on self-pity, mustering a weary decency and a well-ordered misery that is disrupted by that most violent of forces — hope. –JF

29. Donnie Darko (dir. Richard Kelly, 2001). A film that ends up being more than the sum of its parts (Jake Gyllenhaal, a heartbreaking ’80s New Wave soundtrack, and the late Patrick Swayze playing a pedophile). There are probably a lot of folks who take this movie really seriously, trying to keep all the space-time stuff straight, but it’s enough simply to bask in its sharp, nasty humor, encapsulated in scenes like the “Sparkle Motion” dance routine. That alone is worth two hours of your time. –Robin Monica Alexander

30. Iron Man (dir. Jon Favreau, 2008). One of the most important parts of a superhero’s story is his origin. A number of movies get this painfully wrong (Victor Von Doom riding the rocket with the Fantastic Four, Bruce Wayne’s parents being killed by the man that becomes the Joker, Peter Parker’s uncle killed by the guy who becomes the Sandman). Not in this case, though. Except for updating the time and location, Favreau’s version is wonderfully right. The shrapnel lodged dangerously close to Tony Stark’s heart; Yensin, the man who helps Stark build the suit; even that first butt-ugly suit itself are all straight from the comic book. There are even nods to the wonderfully cheesy theme song from the old cartoon (Rhodey’s ringtone for Tony). Plus, Robert Downey, Jr. seems to have been born to play the part of cocky millionaire industrialist Tony Stark. –Tony Redman

31. Michael Clayton (dir. Tony Gilroy, 2007). On the surface, writer/director Gilroy’s Michael Clayton is a legal thriller dealing with an environmental case. George Clooney, in one of his best film roles, plays Clayton, a “fixer” sent in to clean up messes his firm wants kept out of the papers. In essence, he gets rich clients out of embarrassing predicaments, and gets paid well to do it. But Clayton’s soul is being sucked dry by the same firm that pays him, and that’s where the film draws its power. Below the surface is the story of a man trying to redeem himself in the eyes of his mentor (a riveting Tom Wilkinson), his son, his family, and ultimately himself. Also featuring Tilda Swinton in an Academy Award-winning performance, Michael Clayton harkens back to the ’70s films of Sydney Pollack (who appears in the movie), in which films with style also had substance, and deserves to mentioned in the same league as All the President’s Men, Three Days of the Condor and The Parallax View. –SM

32. Ghost World (dir. Terry Zwigoff, 2001). I never read the graphic novel on which this movie is based, but I probably should, since I love the celluloid version so much. As a cynical, smart-assed, dark-haired, glasses-wearing, music-loving woman, I relate to the main character, Enid (played by Thora Birch) more than I have to any character in a movie or book … well, probably ever. Also starring Scarlett Johansson (before she became a huge star) and the always wonderful Steve Buscemi, Ghost World is a wonderful coming-of-age story for those of us who think coming-of-age stories are mostly lame. –Kelly S.

33. Brokeback Mountain (dir. Ang Lee, 2005). The chameleonic Lee burrowed deep into E. Annie Proulx’s short story and came up with the decade-defining romantic tragedy, one involving two men. Beautifully restrained and quietly devastating, and a film for the ages (unlike the Best Picture-stealing Crash, a movie for a few minutes). It cuts so deep. And It hurts terribly to look at the brilliant Heath Ledger in it, knowing what was to come. –BC

34. Casino Royale (dir. Martin Campbell, 2006). After the popular but unmemorable run of Brosnan Bonds the franchise needed turbocharging, and who would have thought that Daniel Craig would be the actor to supply it? Seriously—seeing him onstage in A Steady Rain on Broadway, in a completely different part, I thought, “What did the producers see in him? What did he see in himself?” Whatever, his spark lit the fuse for one of the series’ best, and most romantic, adventures. It made me a fan all over again, no small feat. –BC

35. A Mighty Wind (dir. Christopher Guest, 2003). Though not as uproariously funny as Guest’s previous films, A Mighty Wind succeeds by adding tons of heart and a strong understanding of why folk music still resonates. The big selling point was the thrill of seeing Guest, Harry Shearer, and Michael McKean in a band again, but the movie was stolen by Catherine O’Hara, who deserved an Oscar nomination for her portrayal of a former star unexpectedly re-living her youth. –DL

36. Shrek (dir. Andrew Adamson and Vicky Jenson, 2001). A fat, green ogre and a donkey star in what goes down as one of the top animated movies ever made. To me, Shrek was the turning point in animated features that made it OK for a grown man to see one without a child present. The fairytale made the kiddies laugh, and the witty dialog kept the adults wanting more. It’s a win-win situation that was duplicated three years later in the sequel. –Dave Steed

37. Adaptation. (dir. Spike Jonze, 2002). The brilliant thing about the script for Adaptation. is that Charlie Kaufman’s creative solution for writer’s block fits the project so perfectly. There probably isn’t a writer in Hollywood who could get away with what Kaufman did here. Shall we count his crimes? Instead of strictly adapting a slightly intriguing book about rare orchids, he placed himself at the center of the story. He invented himself a brother, even crediting him as co-writer. The writer of the book he was entrusted to adapt engages in drug use and has an affair with her book’s subject, and Kaufman even defiles her in his own masturbatory fantasy. In short, the script is awesome. It also manages to say something very profound about the nature of creativity. –AA

38. Lost in Translation (dir. Sofia Coppola, 2003). With Lost in Translation, writer/director Coppola became the third woman – and the first American woman – to be nominated for a Best Director Academy Award®. Can you believe that? Only three women ever, to this day? Whatever, Hollywood. Of course, when you hear most people talk about this movie, what they are most interested in is the comeback of sorts it gave Bill Murray. Oh, and the shot of Scarlett Johansson’s ass in see-through panties that opens the film. Whatever, people. “Lip my stockings.” –Kelly S.

39. Little Miss Sunshine (dir. Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris, 2006). This movie makes it look easy. Just gather a group of top-notch actors (from legend Alan Arkin down to breakout kid star Abigail Breslin), put them in a crappy yellow van and throw away all sense of decorum, and you’ve got a comedy that upholds the value of family while skewering so-called “family values.” It steals shamelessly from National Lampoon’s Vacation, but to more poignant effect. –RMA

40. Hero (dir. Zhang Yimou, 2002). There are several epics on this list. Though most of the attention goes to Peter Jackson’s greatly successful Lord of the Rings trilogy, the Chinese film Hero embodies the word “epic” just as well. It contains, quite simply, some of the most stunning visuals of the last decade. The color palette is something remarkable. The fights are incredibly stylized, more like dances really, but stand as something different from the fight scenes in American movies, thanks to the incredible wire-work. –AA

41. 25th Hour (dir. Spike Lee, 2002). Perhaps Lee’s most mature film to date, 25th Hour is the director’s stunning meditation on New York City in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks. Ostensibly the story of a drug dealer, beautifully played by Edward Norton, on his way to prison, the film allows Lee to take the pulse of his city following the tragedy. The film’s final scenes, which follow the Norton character as he’s being driven to prison, imagining what his life might have been, are among the most moving moments in recent cinema. –Ken S.

42. Let the Right One In (dir. Tomas Alfredson, 2008). The movies and TV are lousy with vampires these days. Who knew the cure for anemia would come from slumbering Sweden? But there be nightmares as a pint-sized bloodsucker, loosed in a crumbling community where family and societal ties are fraying, latches onto a new playmate. The reconstituted Hammer Films plans a remake, with Richard Jenkins ideally cast as the vampire’s adult “guardian”–but this drew first blood. –BC

43. Hellboy (dir. Guillermo del Toro, 2004). A special-effects blockbuster with heart — in fact, the greatest movie love story of the decade, no word of a lie. The twinned romantic triangles of a red-skinned demonspawn, a troubled pyrokinetic, and an insecure G-man on one side, and a crazed Nazi psychobitch, a megalomaniacal Russian mystic, and a host of Lovecraftian elder gods on the other — well, who can’t relate to that? –JF

44. Hot Fuzz (dir. Edgar Wright, 2007). Wright’s follow-up to Shaun of the Dead features Simon Pegg as a by-the-book cop who gets transferred to a seemingly quaint English village. He’s teamed with Nick Frost as a bumbling policeman who’s seen every action movie ever made. There’s also a great character turn from Timothy Dalton as a smarmy supermarket manager. One thing I really liked about this movie was that I thought it was going to end three or four different times, but they topped it every time. –TR

45. Mulholland Dr. (dir. David Lynch, 2001). In a high-wire act of adaptive filmmaking, Lynch took a rejected TV pilot and transmogrified it into a stand-alone mind-bender of a movie. It’s the story — or is it? — of a fresh-faced lass who arrives in Hollywood with dreams of becoming an actress, then plays Girl Detective to solve a mystery with a beautifully disheveled woman who has literally descended from the hills. Two-thirds of the way through, Lynch turns the whole enterprise on its head in a shift that leaves the viewer playing detective on his own, trying to piece together the film’s unforgettable snippets. The monster behind the diner, the director at the OK Corral, the sexually explosive audition that reveals the breathtaking acting skills of both our heroine and the neophyte who played her (Naomi Watts, in a career-making turn) … there are plenty more than “Sixteen Reasons” to take a return spin down Mulholland Dr.. –JC

46. Amelie (dir. Jean-Pierre Jeunet, 2001). An Immediatist manifesto disguised as a date movie. Check out this call for “Poetic Terrorism” by the author Hakim Bey in his book Chaos: The Broadsheets of Ontological Anarchism: “The audience reaction of aesthetic-shock produced by Poetic Terrorism ought to be at least as strong as the emotion of terror — powerful disgust, sexual arousal, superstitious awe, sudden intuitive breakthrough, [or] dada-esque angst … If it does not change someone’s life (aside from the artist) it fails. …. An exquisite seduction carried out not only in the cause of mutual satisfaction, but also as a conscious act in a deliberately beautiful life — may be the ultimate PT. The PTerrorist behaves like a confidence-trickster whose aim is not money but change.” Sound like anyone we know? –JF

47. Ratatouille (dir. Brad Bird, 2007). Five of Pixar’s seven releases this decade made our list, and if we extended it to 125 films I’m pretty sure Up would have made it, too. My personal favorite is the one that argues, convincingly, for the same standard of excellence that Pixar holds itself to, and defines what it is we do. In the words of Anton Ego, every critic’s hero: “In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations, the new needs friends.” –BC

48. Mean Girls (dir. Mark Waters, 2004). Let me be honest here. I saw Mean Girls because Lindsey Lohan made me jizz in my pants. Way before she was drugged out and forgot to eat, Lindsey was smokin’ hot. But the weird part was that I (and ever other dude in the theater) left astounded that we had just seen an awesome movie. The perfect casting of Lizzy Caplan and Rachel McAdams, and the brilliant writing of Tina Fey, make this a must-see. –DS

49. Requiem for a Dream (dir. Darren Aronofsky, 2000). Starring Ellen Burstyn, Jared Leto and Jennifer Connelly, Aronofsky’s film adaptation of Hubert Selby, Jr.’s 1978 novel is a terrifying, mind-bending depiction of addiction and self-destruction. I have to admit – this movie kind of traumatized me the first time I saw it. And no, it wasn’t because I watched Jordan Catalano shoot up. –Kelly S.

50. AI: Artificial Intelligence (dir. Steven Spielberg, 2001). People really quibbled with this film’s last act, calling it a betrayal of the rust-edged world Spielberg had originally established — guided as he was by material from the project’s original shepherd, Stanley Kubrick. But if folks truly thought Spielberg would allow the robot boy, played by Haley Joel Osment, to drown at the bottom of the flooded New York amusement park while searching for his adopted mother, they were only fooling themselves. Taken as it is, it’s still a riveting film about love, loss and what it really means to be a living being. –Dw.D

51. The Hurt Locker (dir. Kathryn Bigelow, 2009). My best film of this past summer looks to carry me through fall and winter, too. The great Iraq War movie zeroes in on a bomb disposal expert as he fulfills his duty, again and again. Grace under pressure has never been so tightly concentratred. –BC

52. Zodiac (dir. David Fincher, 2007). After making two of the most divisive films in the past twenty years (Se7en and Fight Club), Fincher gave us a film that not only united critics in praise, but was also his most accomplished work to date thanks to restraint in technique and his focus on the story and characters. Fincher tackles the true-life events of the Zodiac killer, who terrorized San Francisco in the 1970’s. Jake Gyllenhaal, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey, Jr., Anthony Edwards, Elias Koteas, Brian Cox and Chloe Sevigny all give exemplary performances in this mystery/thriller that follows a cartoonist, a reporter and a police detective as they become obsessed with solving the case. Zodiac will make you think, it will make you laugh, and it will scare the hell out of you. I’m thinking of the terrorizing scene in which a young couple enjoying a picnic become the latest victims of the Zodiac. It’s broad daylight, they are in the wide open, and yet the impending doom Fincher gives that scene makes it so scary, I’m getting creeped out right now! –SM

53. Man on Wire (dir. James Marsh, 2008). Chronicling French high-wire artist Philippe Petit’s daring 1974 high-wire walk between the World Trade Center’s Twin Towers, Man on Wire is a breathtaking and moving documentary. It mixes rare footage of preparations for the walk with reenactments and present-day interviews with its organizers and participants, in a fascinating story of vision and perseverance – as well as a lovely homage to the magnificent buildings. It won the Academy Award® for Best Documentary Feature in 2009. –Kelly S.

54. You Can Count on Me (dir. Kenneth Lonergan, 2000). For some reason Laura Linney and Mark Ruffalo are not big stars. They should be. They are two of the finest actors we have today, and you need only to watch this film to see why. As orphaned brother and sister Terry and Sammy Prescott, they show the complicated nature of being siblings, especially when that sibling, a person you’re not sure you like all the time, is the only family you have left the world. First-timer Lonergan’s direction is effortless, and his script is funny, heartbreaking and full of reflective moments that will give you pause and make you appreciate life. Both Linney ad Ruffalo give subtle performances that will have you laughing and crying and wishing You Can Count On Me would not have to end. –SM

55. The 40-Year-Old Virgin (dir. Judd Apatow, 2005). The good old sex comedy may have been beaten into submission, but in the underappreciated no-sex comedy genre, The 40-Year-Old Virgin shines bright. First-time director Apatow puts the spotlight square on Steve Carrell, who pretty much takes on the joke and turns it into two hours of geeky hilariousness. Right after I saw this movie, I had to take the Asia dragon poster off my wall (sadly, I’m not kidding). –DS

56. Kung Fu Hustle (dir. Steven Chow, 2004). Director-star Chow, like Quentin Tarantino, is steeped in movies to his very bones. Kung Fu Hustle, like the Kill Bill movies, functions on one level as a mixtape, of sorts — the genre’s greatest hits, chopped, channeled, and recontextualized. But Chow kines the material for laughs as well as cheap thrills. Subtle it ain’t, but the sheer joy of filmmaking shines from every frame. –JF

57. Eastern Promises (dir. David Cronenberg, 2007). Cronenberg is still making horror movies, but here all his monsters are human. Viggo Mortensen gives a fearless performance — and turns in the decade’s strangest fight scene — in the darkest, twistiest thriller since Chinatown. –JF

58. Munich (dir. Steven Spielberg, 2005). For all his success, the knock on Spielberg has always been his need to explain every last detail. Rarely does he leave decisions up to the viewer. This made me incredibly apprehensive when first approaching Munich; my fear was that a political film from Spielberg would feel preachy and one-sided. Before I saw the movie, I did a little research. To my surprise, there seemed to be no consensus regarding the political stance of the film. Some thought it was pro-Israeli, while others thought it was too sympathetic to the Palestinians. My response was that he struck just the right balance. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict creates such polarizing opinions that it’s only plausible that people would project their own vastly differing opinions on a film like Munich. Spielberg managed to free himself from his instinctual need to explain at just the right moment. –AA

59. The Departed (dir. Martin Scorsese, 2006). There is no doubt that Martin Scorsese deserved an Academy Award. Rattle off his accomplishments and you have a list of some of the greatest movies in the modern era, yet he had never won the statue. It seemed that with Gangs of New York (2002) and The Aviator (2004), he he was trying too hard to prove he is one of the greatest filmmakers of all time and should win the Oscar. After The Aviator, Scorsese took on a remake of the Hong Kong thriller Infernal Affairs just to keep working. It is a taut, well-executed film that has visual flair, a dazzling script, expert editing by his longtime collaborator Thelma Schoonmaker, and gripping performances by one of the best fucking casts ever assembled. It’s intense and bloody, yes, but it’s also funny as hell and moves at such a fast clip your head is spinning. Without the pressure of trying to make a movie that would win him awards, Scorsese did what does make him one of the greatest directors of all time — he made an insanely well-made movie with the purpose to entertain, not to impress — and in doing so he finally won his Academy Award. –SM

60. The Queen (dir. Stephen Frears, 2006). The story of the royal family’s actions, or rather inactions, in the wake of the death of Princess Diana are the subject of this fascinating British film. The always great Helen Mirren stars as HM Queen Elizabeth II, a monarch struggling with her personal feelings about the late princess and her sense of duty as the head of the royal family. In the end, she is spurred to action by Prime Minister Tony Blair, well played by MIchael Sheen. A moving film about family, be they royal, or yours and mine. –Ken S.

61. Knocked Up (dir. Judd Apatow, 2007). Apatow remained unstoppable with this hilarious tale of beer goggles, slackerdom and even a little growing up. Seth Rogen’s stock had been growing over the years, but this is the vehicle that has made him the latest go-to comedian in Hollywood. And let’s not forget what might be Paul Rudd’s best performance to date as the bitter brother-in-law. –DS

62. Cast Away (dir. Robert Zemeckis, 2000). A pretty daring movie in the fact that most of the time it’s focused on just Chuck, the lonely soul stranded on a deserted island. You get to see pain, struggles, tragedy and triumph, and a volleyball becoming a man’s best friend. Watching Tom Hanks’ character slowly adapt to his surroundings and find a way to survive for years without human interaction was a unique experience for the viewer, and it’s doubtful it could have been pulled off so well by a lesser actor. –DS

63. The New World (dir. Terrence Malick, 2005). The visionary filmmaker Malick made two brilliant films in the ’70s, then disappeared from the scene for 20 years before returning with The Thin Red Line in 1998. The second film of Malick’s comeback, The New World is a highly stylized historical drama about the settlement of the Jamestown colony by Englishmen in the early 17th century. Colin Farrell stars as John Smith, and newcomer Q’Orianka Kilcher is Pocahontas. Once again Malick makes powerful use of interior monologues, and his films, including this one, are never less than visually stunning. –Ken S.

64. Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan (dir. Larry Charles, 2006). “Kazakhstan greatest country in the world / All other countries are run by little girls.” So sings Sacha Baron Cohen’s tact-free nitwit during a rodeo scene filmed just up the road from my Virginia hometown — a scene that, not for the first or last time during Borat, left audiences convulsing with uncomfortable yet undeniable laughter. Was it unfair to the rubes? Yeah, probably — but sometimes it requires having a pair of hairy testicles shoved in your face to show you who you really are. –JC

65. Batman Begins (dir. Christopher Nolan, 2005). The sequel flew into our Top Ten. I’m unconvinced, finding it full of standard superhero bloat. Fact is, my favorite Batman movie will always be Tim Burton’s sublimely twisted Batman Returns. But this reboot, a leaner, meaner take on the material, comes in second. That it contributed to taking the simple fun out of a genre that is now prostrate with self-importance in no way diminishes its own integrity and quality. –BC

66. Traffic (dir. Steven Soderbergh, 2000). I’ve come to lament the multi-story narrative that’s defined the decade, where everyone’s conveniently entwined with everyone else and the moral of the story is that it’s a small world after all, isn’t it? Fraudulent. But Traffic, derived from a BBC miniseries, works beautifully in capturing facets of the drug trade, and showing how the whole rotten thing, bound by addiction, avarice, and compromise, works. And Benicio Del Toro is a perfect center of gravity. –BC

67. Cache (dir. Michael Haneke, 2005). This is Haneke’s finest work, at least until we can judge this year’s Cannes darling The White Ribbon this winter. The tense, riveting Cache takes a theme familiar in French film — skewering the smug bourgeoisie — and overlays a message about the lingering perils of colonialism for both the conquered and the conqueror. Its story, of a forgotten childhood event that comes back to haunt a well-to-do TV host and his family, is shot through first with paranoia, then with tragedy. –JC

68. Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (dir. Gore Verbinski, 2003). We were going to see The League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen, but it was sold out. It was only out of a lack of options that we wound up watching a stupid Johnny Depp movie based on a Disneyland ride produced by Captain Crash himself, Jerry Bruckheimer … and wound up having a hell of a lot of fun. League Of Whazzits Now? –Dw.D

69. Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story (dir. Rawson Marshall Thurber, 2004). Vince Vaughn and Ben Stiller in a movie about an inflatable red ball being thrown into genital areas unexpectedly. Sounds like a winning premise, right? C’mon, right? Somehow, though, Vaughn leading a group of misfits in a quest to save his gym by winning a dodgeball tournament against the way-too-serious “athletes” of the corporate Globo Gym (led by Stiller) turned out to be an hour and a half of crazy tomfoolery and hilarious sight-gags. –DS

70. Monsters Inc. (dir. Pete Docter, Lee Unkrich and David Silverman, 2001). The last few years have found the folks at Pixar exploring just how much artistic leeway their popularity has given them. While the results have generated some of the most beautiful and sincere moments in recent movie memory, the plots haven’t had the same consistency as a lighter effort like Monsters, Inc. It has more of a slapstick animation style, with John Goodman and Billy Crystal well cast as Sully and Mike, two monsters who are anything but frightening in the context of their own world. Rival studios are still trying to catch up to the Monsters, Inc. style, even as Pixar has mostly moved on. I like Wall-E and Up, but Monsters, Inc. remains my favorite Pixar movie because it is so enjoyable. –AA

71. Meet the Parents (dir. Jay Roach, 2000). When Meet the Parents came out, it had been two years since Ben Stiller had done something worth viewing (There’s Something About Mary), so this was a nice surprise. Stiller excels in well-written, intelligent laugh-fests when the director can reel in the idiocy – which Roach does well. The movie works because so many people can relate to crazy, obsessive parents, even if Stiller takes Greg Focker through more bumbling maneuvers than one person could possible endure. For a good year after this release you could still hear some variation of the most memorable quote in the film: “I’ve got nipples, Greg, could you milk me?” –DS

72. Best in Show (dir. Christopher Guest, 2000). Guest’s second movie unleashes (pun intended) his repertory cast of improv wizards on the world of the pure-breed dog show. Along the way, they skewer rubes, yuppies (gay and straight), and aging trophy wives seeking fame through their animals. And just when the drama of the dog show would naturally threaten the comedy in the final third, Fred Willard turns in a hysterical performance as a clueless commentator prone to spouting lines like, “These are such beautiful animals, and to think that in some countries these dogs are eaten.” –DL

73. Downfall (dir. Bernd Eichinger, 2004). It’s sad, in a way, that this remarkable film — Germany’s first real attempt to deal with its Nazi legacy using actors in all the major roles — is already best remembered as the source of a thousand YouTube parodies. Still, the ease — and relative lack of controversy — with which Bruno Ganz’ furious breakdown has been adapted for subject matter as disparate as Hillary Clinton’s primary loss and the inadequacy of the BCS is proof of Downfall’s unique success in finding Hitler’s human, if despicable, core. –JC

74. Zombieland (dir. Ruben Fleischer, 2009). The most recent film to make this list is the best zombie comedy since Shaun of the Dead. Woody Harrelson and Jesse Eisenberg play two guys running from a mass zombie infestation, aided (but mostly abetted) by fellow runners Emma Stone and Abigail Breslin. Includes rules on how to defend yourself against the living dead, and a special big-time guest star (playing himself) in whose mansion our heroes hide out. –TR

75. Wonder Boys (dir. Curtis Hanson, 2000). Michael Douglas gives one of the best performances of his career as a stoned, aging professor trying to finish his latest book while slogging through a weekend on campus. He’s in love with his boss’s wife (Frances McDormand), pregnant with his child; he’s being hounded by his agent (a hilarious Robert Downey, Jr.), in town to get pages from the book; and he is suddenly the guardian of his best pupil, played by Tobey Maguire. Hanson, working with a fine script by Steve Kloves adapted from Michael Chabon’s wonderful novel, shot the film on location in Pittsburgh and gave it the feel of one of those long weekends in the Midwest when your life can change in two days. Douglas gives one of the best performances of his career, and Hanson shows once again that he is one of the best filmmakers working today. Literary, funny and human, Wonder Boys is like a great novel — you keep wanting to go back to it again and again. –SM

76. About a Boy (dir. Chris and Paul Weitz, 2002). After all of the romantic comedies Hugh Grant has done, it seemed risky for him to take on the role of Nick Hornby’s shallow man-boy who hatches a plan to pick up women at support groups for single moms. However, after watching the Weitz brothers’ adaptation, it’s hard to imagine anyone else playing the smug, materialistic prick who discovers his soul thanks to his friendship with a lonely boy (scene stealer Nicholas Hoult) whose mom (Toni Collette) attempts suicide. Besides Grant’s superb performance and Hoult, a young actor who goes toe to toe with
Grant, you have Collette suffering from depression and having a meltdown in a wonderfully tragic role, and the radiant Rachel Weisz as the woman Grant’s character falls in love with, a first for him. Featuring an exemplary score by Badly Drawn Boy, About A Boy will remind you why you like going to the movies: They give you hope that people can change, and that the world can be a better place when people care about one another. –SM

77. Hedwig and the Angry Inch (dir. John Cameron Mitchell, 2001). A film about a transgendered European rock singer might strike some as the ultimate examination of artifice, but this movie musical is actually a celebration of true authenticity and an angry condemnation of a world that conspires to destroy it. Fortunately, it is also frequently hilarious, kick-ass and fabulous. –RMA

78. Juno (dir. Jason Reitman, 2007). The midpoint in Reitman’s rapid ascendance to the top echelon of Hollywood directors (following Thank You for Smoking and preceding this fall’s Up in the Air), Juno makes delectable lemonade from what traditionally has been a lemon of a film topic (teen pregnancy). He keeps the quirk meter consistently cranked up to 10, with considerable help from co-stars Ellen Page and Michael Cera — and Diablo Cody’s debut script made her a cultural phenomenon. I still think it was the best film of ‘97 (sorry, Coens). –JC

79. Moulin Rouge! (dir. Baz Luhrmann, 2001). An orgy of color, sexuality, visual mayhem and musical mash-ups, Moulin Rouge! was … well, it was a Baz Luhrmann film. The Baz Luhrmann film, really — the destination toward which Strictly Ballroom and Romeo + Juliet, its predecessors in what is now known as the “Red Curtain trilogy,” were headed. Its score, a menagerie of well-worn pop songs, grated some as much as it delighted others — but still helped earn the first Best Picture nomination for a musical in two decades. Luhrmann himself was robbed, however, foreshadowing the film’s loss to the vastly inferior A Beautiful Mind. –JC

80. X-Men (dir. Bryan Singer, 2000). X-Men is the rare 21st-century comic book movie that’s exempt from the critique offered by 1999’s Mystery Men — a droll skewering of the genre that would have had real bite if it hadn’t been released 10 years too early. Unlike so many of its parody-worthy counterparts, X-Men is a short, sharp delight that introduced a memorable batch of franchise-ready characters, had knockout setpieces, scored a few sociopolitical points, and was off in 104 minutes. Genius. –BC

81. 28 Days Later (dir. Danny Boyle, 2002). The movie that kicked off the current zombie craze, this insanely well-made, low-budget scare flick is actually two films in one. The first is a lean, mean update of your garden-variety undead story, where the corpses aren’t just hungry, they’re angry. The second is a wickedly funny-scary (and prescient) satire of how a society’s response to crisis can be more terrifying than the crisis itself. –RMA

82. Waitress (dir. Adrienne Shelly, 2007). They don’t make movies much sweeter than Shelly’s comedy about Jenna, a pie-making waitress with an abusive husband, an unwanted pregnancy, and an obstetrician who just might be Mr. Right. Keri Russell has never been better, Nathan Fillion proves he’d make a great rom-com hero, and even Andy Griffith settles gracefully into his role as the curmudgeonly diner owner who helps Jenna’s dreams come true. –JC

83. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (dir. Shane Black, 2005). After witnessing the incredible chemistry between Robert Downey, Jr. and Val Kilmer in this movie, one has to wonder why these two never worked together before, particularly during the 1980s when they were in their prime. OK, well, maybe Kilmer was in his prime; RDJ’s star has only gotten brighter since this movie, while Val’s has, well, given us the voice of K.I.T.T. in the Knight Rider reboot. The directorial debut from Lethal Weapon and Monster Squad screenwriter Black, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang is full of witty dialogue (also written by Black) and some great action scenes. But it’s really Kilmer and Downey, Jr. that make this movie so special. –Kelly S.

84. Inglourious Basterds (dir. Quentin Tarantino, 2009). Inglourious Basterds barely has anything to do with its namesake (an Italian war film from 1978). The Basterds in question mainly serve as a resolution. We never get to know many of them all that well, and several other characters play much more important emotional roles. The movie is Tarantino’s love note to cinema. There are so many little touches thrown in for the cinephile to notice. The true star of Tarantino’s work is usually what he’s referencing, rather than the actors who fill the screen. In the case of Inglourious Basterds, these stars are Leni Riefenstahl and Sergio Leone, and even The Wizard of Oz. It’s an exciting mix of intergenerational talent that only Tarantino’s bizarre mind could concoct. –AA

85. Gladiator (dir. Ridley Scott, 2000). Digital effects are often used — and overused — to take us into new worlds. Gladiator captivated audiences by taking us into an ancient one that hadn’t been envisioned in some time, and rarely on such scale. Its story takes off from one of the last, 1964’s Fall of the Roman Empire, whose sprawling built environment no one dared replicate again. It was thrilling to revisit Rome, in the company of a strong, stoic Russell Crowe. Sometimes they do make them like they used to. –BC

86. Punch-Drunk Love (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson, 2002). It’s actually a stroke of brilliance. Punch-Drunk Love is exactly like all of Adam Sandler’s previous films. It has a hapless loser crippled by a society that sees him as a target, who suddenly and awkwardly finds love. What Anderson does next is strip out the slapstick, the mugging, the goofy voices that announce “that was a joke,” and makes it all work in strange, elegant fashion. –Dw.D

87. Chicken Run (dir. Nick Park, 2000). A movie reminiscent of The Great Escape, using clay-animated poultry. You’d think it couldn’t be done, until you realize Park and his cronies from the Wallace and Gromit shorts are involved. A great vocal performance by Mel Gibson, back when he wasn’t embarrassing himself in the news. –TR

88. Big Fish(dir. Tim Burton, 2003). Based on the Daniel Wallace book of the same name, Big Fish tells the story of a son (Billy Crudup) trying to unravel the tall tales and stories his father (Albert Finney) has spun over the years. Burton brings the father’s extraordinary past to life, with the young Edward Bloom (Ewan McGregor, ditching his itchy Jedi robes) exploring familiar Burton territory – dark and spooky woods, the circus, and pastel-hued Americana – alongside witches, giants, and a lycanthropic Circus boss (Danny DeVito). As Crudup eventually learns the truth behind ths tales, he comes to a new understanding his father and the value of the storyteller role that all fathers must play. –Ben Wiser

89. Gosford Park (dir. Robert Altman, 2001). Nobody does ensemble films with intersecting storylines better than the late, great Altman. Gosford Park is a charming murder mystery set in 1932 England, starring a bevy of wonderful British and American actors including Clive Owen, Kristen Scott Thomas, Jeremy Northam, Bob Balaban, Ryan Phillipe, Helen Mirren and Maggie Smith (the latter two were both nominated for the Best Supporting Actress Academy Award® for their performances). From a story idea of Altman and Balaban’s, screenwriter Julian Fellowes wrote a fantastic script full of sharp, witty dialogue that won him the Academy Award® as well. –Kelly S.

90. The Bourne Identity (dir. Doug Liman, 2002). No one expected a hokey Robert Ludlum thriller (filmed earlier for TV with Richard Chamberlain and Jaclyn Smith, for God’s sake) to yield one of the decade’s bulletproof franchises, and seal Matt Damon’s stardom. With their rapid-fire editing, the sequels had more influence on genre filmmaking, but this one sneaked up on me as stealthily as a covert assassin. –BC

91. Superbad (dir. Greg Mottola, 2007). Apparently, I seem to like Apatow. This time he’s just the producer and working with a script that Seth Rogen co-wrote, but it’s still the same gross-out yet intelligent humor of The 40 Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up. It was about time for Jonah Hill to get his chance to shine in a well-written lead role, and his rude and crude style is balanced out nicely by the big-screen breakthrough of Michael Cera and the nerdiness of McLovin. –DS

92. Zack and Miri Make a Porno (dir. Kevin Smith, 2008). My fellow writers and, well, the majority of the world don’t agree, but for me Zack and Miri Make a Porno is the best movie of the decade. A date movie that should never be shown on a date, this is Smith at his crudest and rudest. He shocked the world in 1994 with legendary filth in Clerks, but almost certainly surpasses that with Zack and Miri. Sure, you could say it’s just a mess of clichéd jokes about penises and vajayjay’s, but what do you expect out of Smith and Seth Rogen? –DS

93. Lost Skeleton of Cadavra (dir. Larry Blamire, 2004). This isn’t the first time I’ve championed this film (see the Love Post back in February). If you like oddball parodies in the Airplane mold, do yourself a favor: Put this one in your Netflix queue. Better yet, buy a copy. Not only is this a hilarious takeoff of exposition-heavy sci-fi movies of the fifties, but it’s even more fun to watch other people watching it. Trust me on this one, and you do like it, feel free to thank me. –TR

94. Night at the Museum (dir. Shawn Levy, 2006). Critics ragged on this CGI-filled romp through a history museum, but families came out in droves to see a light-hearted, action-packed, kid-approved flick. The kiddies learned that when people go to bed, statues come to life, and adults learned that when statues come to life, kids stay happy. It’s a win-win scenario with enough laughs to have you smiling at the end. –DS

95. Letters from Iwo Jima. (dir. Clint Eastwood, 2006). World War II movies always have an appeal to the general public because there are so many fascinating stories to be gleaned. In an ambiguous world, the Second World War stands as one of the only conflicts that can truly feel morally black and white. Yet Eastwood’s Letters from Iwo Jima shows the side that hasn’t had a voice. It never talks down to the viewer or asks for sympathy. It merely reminds audiences that, yes, our enemy is human, loves its family, and suffers the same hardships of war. –AA

96. Yi Yi: A One and a Two (dir. Edward Yang, 2000). The Taiwanese filmmaker Yang won the best director prize at the Cannes Film Festival for his gem-like examination of a family in crisis, with a wedding, a funeral, and the ups and downs in between all lovingly, empathetically observed over the course of three hours. By all means rent the Criterion DVD. Yang’s direction of the children is especially keen. Sadly, it proved to be his last feature; he died in 2007, after a long bout with cancer. –BC

97. King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters (dir. Seth Gordon, 2007). It began production as an innocent look at the world of old-school video game junkies. During filming they stumbled upon one of the all-time great underdog stories, as unemployed school teacher Steve Wiebe challenged video game golden boy Billy Mitchell for the world record at Donkey Kong. The underhanded political dealings that ensue would make Shakespeare blush, while Mitchell goes down as one of the greatest villains in movie history. –DM

98. Once (dir. John Carney, 2007). From ridiculously humble beginnings — no stars, a skeleton script and $160,000 — came the unrequited-love story of the decade and one of the sweetest moments in Oscar history. Writer-director Carney, a former bandmate of his male protagonist (Frames lead singer Glen Hansard), shot Once in friends’ houses and (without permits) on the Dublin streets, using a long lens and natural light. The result was captivating, an intimate portrait of a not-quite romance between a “Broken Hearted Hoover Fixer Sucker Guy” and a Czech immigrant who, despite falling slowly in love, cannot forsake their prior commitments. Thank goodness for Jon Stewart, who brought Marketa Irglova back onstage so she could have her well-deserved moment in the sun. –JC

99. Napoleon Dynamite (dir. Jared Hess, 2004). A full-on celebration of randomness wrapped in a teen self-discovery movie, this screamingly funny comedy sold a million “Vote for Pedro” t-shirts and taught America that llamas eat ham. John Hughes’ midwestern “outcasts” have nothing on Napoleon, a kid who carries Tater Tots in a fanny pack. What makes this film more than just a laff riot is the surprisingly affecting dance sequence (to Jamiroquai’s “Canned Heat”) in which our hero’s vulnerability and innate human dignity are laid bare. –RMA

100. Dogville (dir. Lars von Trier, 2003). Part artist, part poseur, von Trier has a gift for winning over the pseudointellectual press. (Expect to see his god-awful “musical,” Dancer in the Dark, on many best-of-decade lists.) But sometimes he overcomes his most fraudulent impulses and connects–The Kingdom, Zentropa, and a movie that narrowly avoided the doghouse of being No. 101 are all worth investigating. A Brechtian takedown of the American dream, with the actors performing on chalk-outlined “sets” and pantomiming simple actions (like opening doors) to get from location to location, it’s three hours long and utterly captivating– even if he blows his cool with the closing credits. (Typical!) The sequel, Manderlay, was another head-scratching disaster that even the pseuds yawned at. But take a bow, Lars, for giving Nicole Kidman that rare role in an art-house production that does as much for her as she does for it–and for earning a place on our list. –BC

Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code was the pass-along book when I vacationed with my in-laws a few years back. It’s a good read for lazy summer days: its historical puzzles are intriguing (if farfetched), “Magdalene theory” makes for good conversation over glasses of white wine, and there are pictures. But I figured it would make for a terrible movie, and I was right. The novel is all exposition and supposition, with paper-thin characters sitting around rooms and chatting esoterically for chapters at a time. I can’t argue with its $758 million worldwide gross in the summer of 2006, except to say that I wasn’t the only one fidgeting in my seat; Angels & Demons mustered $485 million this summer, a sizable drop-off. It didn’t have a prayer of getting my $12.50.

In one of the DVD extras director Ron Howard says the “earnest” quality of Brown’s books attracted him. Giving credit where credit is due he and Da Vinci Code screenwriter Akiva Goldsman (an Oscar winner for Howard’s A Beautiful Mind, a Razzie nominee for another ampersand credit, Batman & Robin) decided to make things less earnest this time, bringing in blockbuster scribe David Koepp (Jurassic Park, etc.) to loosen up the “static” (Howard’s word) character of ace symbologist Robert Langdon and keep the storyline to a swifter-moving timetable.

By and large the fixes work. The plot is set in the here and now, minus draggy digressions to the Knights Templar. The characters go outdoors to stretch their legs in Rome (or, rather, a clever facsimile of the Eternal City, with location footage seamlessly matched to grand sets and CGI). The book Angels & Demons preceded The Da Vinci Code, but the movie is a followup, so sins can be erased—Tom Hanks, thanks be to God, has lost his mullet. And it’s a few minutes shorter, another blessing.

But the curse of implausibility is not so easily removed. The new film finds Langdon up his code-cracking eyeballs as a papal enclave convenes to replace a deceased “progressive” pope. Meanwhile—there are a lot of “meanwhiles” in scripts like this—a vial of antimatter has been stolen from the European Organization of Nuclear Research (CERN). The apparent culprits are the zealous Illuminati, a long-dormant secret society who have kidnapped the four “preferiti” (the most likely candidates for pope) and are making good on their plan to kill one an hour in the run-up to nuking St. Peter’s Square at a midnight deadline. Enter Langdon, who has to sort out the angels (like church official Ewan McGregor and CERN scientist Ayelet Zurer) from the demons (scowling Swiss Guardsman Stellan Skarsgard and officious cardinal Armin Mueller-Stahl among them) while piecing together clues from drawn from Galileo, Roman statuary and monuments, and the elements.

These Brown adaptations are like the National Treasure pictures for grown-ups, and assuming the world’s still here in 2012 I figure we’ll be getting a film of The Lost Symbol to round out a trilogy. I don’t mind that the plots don’t hold water (Brown is a better researcher than writer, though a very selective one) as long as a certain pace is maintained, which Angels & Demons does. In so doing, however, it tags every thriller cliché there is, then takes a crazy third act leap to catch us off guard. The big finish is solemnly hilarious…trouble is, it doesn’t much involve Hanks, who again takes a backseat to the ancient clues and conspiracy theories. Rather than take charge of the movie, he hosts it, as if his secret desire is to join the ranks of Mark Harmon and David Caruso in CBS mystery potboilers. It’s not the greatest use of A-list star power. (And once more he doesn’t even get to first base with the girl. Perhaps the neutered-seeming Langdon has a secret desire?)

This skeptic was satisfied with the single-disc theatrical edition DVD of Angels & Demons but true believers will want the Blu-ray, which includes an eight-minutes-longer (if by no means better) extended cut. Extras on my runt version are an hour’s worth of making-of featurettes that are as slickly produced as the film, including an interesting session about antimatter from CERN—which, unlike the Vatican, is happy for the plug.

“Gomorrah is frightening in the best sense: Moral,” I wrote. Garrone’s adaptation of a searing bestseller leaves the capos and capers behind to concentrate on how syndicate control pervades Italian society at every level, and reaches outward. It tells five stories of pitiless corruption, with the only exposition coming afterwards. I likened it to a “waking nightmare” for the middlemen, workers, and impressionable kids caught in the crossfire, and I left the theater uneasy.

The film comes to DVD in a standard two-disc package or as a Blu-ray. In standard format the first disc is dedicated to the movie, with a new HD digital transfer that squeezes every seamy drop of life from Marco Onorato’s widescreen framing, a theatrical trailer, and new subtitles. Complementing the feature is a thorough booklet essay by Chuck Stephens that explores the history of the Camorra system, the seismic impact of the book (whose author, Roberto Saviano, has been obliged to live under police protection since its publication), and how Garrone makes use of Neapolitan architecture and plays off the works of Federico Fellini, Francesco Rosi, and Michelangelo Antonioni.

Garrone and Saviano are spotlighted in separate interviews on the second disc, the director expanding upon his vision of the film (and the problems of location shooting) and the writer filling in the details about the syndicate—the impression of a vise tightening a little harder on Italy each year if unmistakable. Chances are though that the first supplement you’ll want to dip into once you’ve seen the film is the interview with actor Toni Servillo, who plays Franco, the mob’s toxic waste management specialist. Franco is a charming, insinuating bastard, and Servillo, star of the recent political expose Il Divo, makes the most of the breakthrough part. He, Gianfelice Imparato (who plays the middleman, Don Ciro), and Salvatore Cantalupo (heartbreaking as Pasquale, the tailor) are interviewed for an additional segment on actors.

An excellent hour-long documentary captures, on the run, the filming of the five stories, with six deleted scenes offered as an additional extra. The exemplary presentation adds considerable value to the unsettling, unshakable Gomorrah—and I’d like to see Criterion take on the IFC-distributed In the Loop and Antichrist besides.

It wasn’t really time for a revival of Ragtime. The new musical first opened on Broadway in 1998 and ran for two years. It was mostly well received, winning Tony Awards for Best Book of a Musical as well as Best Score (Lion King beat it for the coveted Best Musical prize). It starred Audra McDonald and Brian Stokes Mitchell in what was a categorically extravagant, traditional Broadway production similar to The Phantom of the Opera and Wicked (although Wicked wouldn’t open for a few more years).

But something unique happened with this production of Ragtime (directed and choreographed by Marcia Milgrom Dodge) originally staged for and presented at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C.: Everyone freaking loved the show. It could have been Broadway bound from the beginning, but its overwhelming response probably had something to do with the show’s New York transfer. I have to agree with the fans on this one; This production of Ragtime is fantastic. It is everything that is magical about musical theatre, down to its most basic storytelling intentions and emotional connection with its audience. The show itself isn’t perfect, but this revival is really incredible.

Ragtime is an historic musical, pulling from fact and showcasing real figures as its characters. The story is fictional, but the details are very real. Based in New Rochelle, New York, in the early 20th century, Ragtime exposes a tumultuous time in America when race relations were just beginning to be a topic of discussion although racism still ran rampant throughout the country. The story follows the plight of Mother and Father and their WASP-y, rich, New York life. Father goes away on a year-long vacation and Mother finds her life intertwined with a black family from Harlem. When father returns he can’t believe what’s happened and demands that the association be broken. The fight for equality unfolds before the audience’s eyes and subsequent drama ensues.

Written by Terrence McNally (The Ritz, The Full Monty, Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune), the script is rooted in the very raw emotion of these characters as they try to understand their own feelings on race relations. Much of the show is sung and therefore, much of the dialogue is revealed through lyrics. With music and lyrics by the team of Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens (Once On This Island, Seussical), the true passion is often let loose through soulful song. The biggest asset this production has is its ability to truthfully convey these highest of emotions and make these characters’ inner struggles palpable. I must admit, this is the first production I’ve seen of Ragtime, so I’m not sure if the music itself is so powerful that any actor inhabiting his role can relate the sentiment with such truth, but it’s certainly true of this production and I’d wager it’s the reason why audiences find themselves so drawn to the show.

The night I saw the show, the audience was on their feet barely before the final curtain came down. They absolutely loved it. And it wasn’t one of those undeserved standing ovations (you know, the “I paid $120 for this ticket and I’ve never been to a Broadway show before so I will proudly stand to be a part of the experience even though the show was mediocre at best”). Ragtime elicits thunderous applause from a grateful audience, thrilled to have experienced the magic. This seems so cheesy as I write it but I guess classic musical theatre is cheesy by design. I will be honest when I tell you that the night I saw the show the audience was a good 70 percent geriatric. But my date and I (both in our 20s) found the production to be incredibly moving so maybe this is just one of those shows that, although G-rated, is really appropriate for any age range.

Much of the cast is from the Kennedy Center production and many are making their Broadway debuts. Standouts include Christiane Noll as Mother, Ron Bohmer as Father, Quentin Earl Darrington as Coalhouse and Stephanie Umoh as Sarah. They all have incredible voices and are also powerful actors — as a result they bring their characters to life. Maybe this is the reason this revival is getting a better response than the original production (I don’t know exactly how you quantify that but it seems to be the universal response from everyone I’ve talked to who has seen both productions). This version employs actors for whom the audience doesn’t already have an association. And this production, unlike many other commercial Broadway shows, doesn’t seem like its first goal is to make money. It might very well be a cash cow in the making, but it doesn’t hit you over the head with its fancy production value and pyrotechnics. The set, lights and sound are phenomenal, but they are meant to serve the story, not to show you the latest in projection technology.

So at the end of the day, this revival of Ragtime seems like its main intention is to bring its audience along on the journey, and to tell a story through music with grace, class and artistic integrity. It’s a rare find on Broadway these days to see a musical that doesn’t wear its commercial intentions on its sleeve. And it has the goods to back it up with an incredible cast and orchestra that do justice to the show itself. This revival is probably not the next sensation to hit Broadway, but it’s a great theatrical experience for anyone who appreciates traditional musical theatre. The production is modern enough that it feels like a 21st-century show, but it pays its respects to musical theatre’s roots none-the-less. See Ragtime if you appreciate the genre, or if you are taking your parents to the theatre. You’ll have a lovely time.

Ragtime plays at the Neil Simon Theater, 250 W. 52nd St., between Broadway and 8th Ave. Performances are Tue 7 PM, Wed-Sat 8 PM (also Wed and Sat 2 PM), and Sun 3 PM. Tickets are $47-$127 and can be purchased at ticketmaster.com or by calling 800-755-4000. For more show info, visit ragtimeonbroadway.com.