[ B Y . D M E T R I . K A K M I ]

[ Head On ] (Australia)
Spending twenty-four drug-hazy, sex-soaked hours with Greek-Australian, Ari, trying to come to terms with his sexuality and ethnicity might not sound like a barrel of laughs. And it's not. This films sticks a cock down your throat and rams a fist up your arse from go to whoa! So when was the last time you had that much fun? Complex, humane and multilayered, "Head On" captures a time and place with shattering clarity. How the Australian Film Institute Awards could pass this over for the best film of the year is a mystery only Nostrodamus can solve. It also boasts a hypnotic performance by Greek god, Alex Dimitriades. (See Ishmael's review in Sevenmag's Savvy column.)

[ Hana-Bi ] (Japan)
The best gangster flick since "Carlito's Way", and one of the most lyrical. Sparse, existential and anguished, Takeshi Kitanos' film is like a Japanese Le Samurai. Its eccentric style and lyricism is a telling counter point to the sudden, shocking explosions of violence as a fed-up cop tries to balance family life and career. But really Kitano, who also stars, is more interested in exploring man's relationship with himself and his environment, and the structures that intervene. Kitanos' serene stillness makes Dirty Harry look like a pussy.

[ Live Flesh ] (Spain)
Spanish filmmaker Pedro Almodovar comes of age with this trembling, sexy and tragic romantic triangle. After more than two decades in the business, Almodovar shows that he has moved way beyond the kitsch campery of his delightful early films. His maturity and confidence as a filmmaker of remarkable subtlety is nowhere better displayed than during the opening sequence, as a woman gives birth in a bus wandering the midnight streets of Madrid. Don't get me wrong, this is still a Hollywood melodrama, but it's what Almadovar does with genre conventions and characterisation that puts him in the same league as Michael Curtiz.

[ Snake Eyes ] (America)
This wildly assured assassination thriller from America's premier cinematic stylist, Brian De Palma, begins in the Atlantic City Boxing Arena, and climaxes as a hurricane threatens to wipe out the corrupt slugs sheltering inside. De Palma first shows us the assassination in an elaborate long take, and then progressively reveals small details in flash back from various other characters who witnessed the event. And just to confuse this reality, he throws in footage from television and security cameras. The cinematic formalism and loop-the-loops keep us spellbound for the most part, but what could have been the "Rashomon" of the 90s fizzles out during the compromised ending imposed by the studio. Director's cut anyone?

[ Love Is The Devil ] (England)
John Maybury's highly stylised film is about painter Francis Bacon and his sadomasochistic relationship with rough-trade boyfriend, George Dyer (played by hunky Daniel Craig). The film put the wind up the Bacon estate (who refused the filmmaker permission to show any paintings), and politically motivated gays objected to the film's negative portrayal of gay relationships, but what do either of them know? This is as true a picture of that dark whirlpool we call love as you're likely to get. In this demanding, but rewarding film, Maybury explores the artistic mind, and shows how a distorted psyche can ultimately distort flesh and desire.

[ Henry Fool ] (America)
Contemplative, poetic and bawdy, this is Hal Hartley's return to brilliance. I once said to a friend who hates Hartley's films, 'He makes movies the way I think.' Hartley's films are meticulously structured interior dialogues put to an exacting visual style. In "Henry Fool" Hartley asks the question: 'Is gawky garbage-man Simon's scrawling really poetry of a high order or merely pornographic outpourings?' If Simon represents the raw creative urge, then is his saviour, Simon Grim, Apollo sent to bring form and order to his clay? Apollo, Dionysus and Aphrodite grace the screen in this modern-day subversive parable about the power of the Internet and artistic truth. Camille Paglia's cameo appearance half way through this film is the key to this unforgettable film.

[ The Boys ] (Australia)
If there's a scarier, more unsettling film than "The Boys" this year, I wanna know about it. Rowan Wood's tense film about three sociopathic brothers will knock you for a sixer with its faultless acting (particularly David Wenham) and lurking, creeping camera work as we watch the disintegration of the last strands of humanity. The film is told in flash forward as it reveals events leading up to an undisclosed crime, which is only shown in the very last frame. The coiled tension and the lurking sense of violence in Wenham's dead eyes says it all. Brilliant. Yet again, the dead heads at The Australian Film Institute Awards passed this masterpiece over for an inferior product.

[ Scarface ] (America)
De Palma fans were ecstatic when this 80s classic was re-released to celebrate its 15th anniversary. Two De Palma films in one year! What greater joy can man ask for? Violent, foul-mouthed and completely over the top, "Scarface" is one paean to 80s avarice that has only improved with age. Pacino is awesome as the incestuously inclined coke-sniffing, Tony Montana, and the bathroom chainsaw sequence will leave you breathless.

[ Pink Flamingos ] (America)
'Oh, my God! Someone has sent me a bowel movement', shrieks Divine when she opens her birthday gift. The director's cut of John Waters' cult classic from 1972 was re-released to celebrate its 25th anniversary, and the world gave thanks unto the lord. This time we have the greatest drag queen of them all, the gargantuan Divine, battling it out with suburban dags, Mink Stole and David Lochary, for the title of the filthiest people in the world. Divine eats dog shit to keep her crown, and a guest at her birthday party dilates his arsehole like a spaceship porthole for the amusement of the freaky guests. That's what I call a party trick! Cannibalism, murder and perverse sex acts! Forget the repellent "Something About Mary". "Pink Flamingos" is the funniest movie of the year.