Cinematography of the Year 2002

My slow meander through great cinematography efforts of the noughties continues. And it's not such a hard choice this year. 2002 was a great year for films, but not many stand out for their cinematography. I liked the photography in a good few films - Y Tu Mama Tambien; Mondays in the Sun; Punch Drunk Love, for example - but the award really comes down to a choice of three. Beautiful Bangladeshi Film, The Clay Bird (Matir Moina), my film of the year, Signs or my colleague's number one film of all time, Road to Perdition. All deserve commendation for excellent efforts in the cinematography department.

The Clay Bird is an exquisite film, carefully drawn and delicately photographed in romantic, shadowed and gentle filters and hues. Like with Road to Perdition, there seems to have been a conscious choice not to match the cinematography to the film's overall mood (controversial, I know, see below) and the end product is much more memorable and captivating as a result. Bangladesh looks stunning, sensuous and deep (much like it does in Brick Lane) and the film stands as a compelling reason to visit, as well as an interesting and fascinating historical account of Bangladesh's separation from West Pakistan (Bangladesh was formerly known as East Pakistan). This reminds me, I really must watch this again. This is a hugely underrated and memorable film, which looks beautiful. Cinematography by Sudhir Palsane.

Tak Fujimoto, who photographed Signs, is a well known cinematographer, whose most famous work is the bleak, haunting, foggy and dark landscape that encompasses The Silence of the Lambs. M Night Shyamalan said that he deliberately went for Fujimoto on Signs because of his insight into "Americana" (the pair had also worked together on The Sixth Sense) and it shows. Signs has that static, everyday, look, augmented, for sure, by the picturesque surroundings of endless fields and quiet, rural, beauty. In a way, being a 'blockbuster' (though not, or so I would argue, a typical or traditional one), Fujimoto had an easier job on Signs as people perhaps don't pay as much attention to this kind of thing as they might on other efforts (such as, indeed, The Clay Bird), but that only serves to make his achievement more interesting and commendable. Signs looks great, and there is, throughout, fantastic attention to the detail of how light and sound affect mood, tension and meaning.

However, the prize for 2002 goes to Conrad L. Hall, whose cinematography on Road to Peridition syncs perfectly with Thomas Newman's breathtaking and haunting score. Road to Perdition was originally a graphic novel and this shows throughout (though not in the in your face, overstyalised way, it did in Sin City), particularly in the film's most memorable scene, where Michael Sullivan (Tom Hanks) kills gangster John Rooney (Paul Newman) through lashing rain, darkness and streetlight shard, reminiscent of the finest French impressionist painting. I said earlier that the cinematography (generally dark, foreboding and claustrophobic) does not match the film's mood (which is - ultimately - uplifting). Some may disagree with this, but it is certainly how I felt and, as I say, I think this is a very difficult effect to achieve and Hall's work here is breathtaking. There are also some memorable contrasts - the wide vistas of the film's final moments by the living, breathing, wide ocean, stand out starkly against the scene I have just mentioned, for example. All in all, a dazzling result. Hall won the Oscar, and deservedly so. Unfortunately, he died before learning of the nomination but his fantastic achievement here stands as the best lasting testimony it is possible to imagine to a great talent.