#4 - TERRY ZWIGOFF

Sarcasm masking sensitivity and vulnerability is a theme with which Terry Zwigoff is quite familiar. Zwigoff's first feature-length documentary, Crumb (1994), proved to be a devastating examination of a family utterly divorced from mainstream "normalcy" as well as a portrait of a uniquely twisted artist. Crumb's emotionally disturbed brother Maxon was a particularly poignant reminder of the suffering dysfunctional families can inflict. Winner of several critics' awards as well as one of the best-reviewed films of the 1990s, Crumb was partly responsible for the Academy's drastic reassessment of its nomination process when it failed to receive an Oscar nod for Best Documentary. Though Zwigoff's unflinching film caused a riff with his subject, he and Crumb were reconciled several years later.

Refusing to go Hollywood and compromise his long-standing aversion to corporate commercialism, Zwigoff turned down numerous projects, including The Virgin Suicides (2000), and struggled for five years to get an adaptation of cartoonist Daniel Clowes's graphic novel Ghost World made. Co-scripted with Clowes and starring the inimitably deadpan Thora Birch and Scarlett Johansson as two alienated teens stuck in a generic suburban city, Ghost World was far wiser, funnier, and more moving than the usual teen film. Suffering from more than just an average case of adolescent anomie, Birch's Enid's journey toward an alternative life is aided by Illeana Douglas's hilariously earnest art teacher and Steve Buscemi's gently eccentric collector Seymour; all of the players exude veritable humanity rather than Hollywood gloss. Directed with an assured low-key style that suited both its subject and its comic book source, Ghost World showed that Zwigoff could handle a fictional narrative as well as documentaries and became a summer 2001 art house hit. Seymour's onscreen record collection of jazz and blues 78s belongs to Zwigoff himself.

In last year's Bad Santa, Zwigoff takes the dry humor to a whole new level. Giving one of the best performances of the year, Billy Bob Thornton stars as the bad Santa--a nihilistic, sometimes-suicidal version of the Grinch who stole Christmas. Of course, like all of Zwigoff's films, Bad Santa doesn't merely start and end with the dry wit. Rather, the sarcasm is shown to mask vulnerability, tenderness, and genuine emotion. The Thornton character is not the monster he projects himself to be. When he befriends an introverted 8-year-old boy, we get a glimpse of the bad Santa's true self. Nietzsche once wrote that compassion for the friend should conceal itself under a hard shell, and you should be able to break a tooth on it. "That way it will have delicacy and sweetness." Such delicate sweetness is found in Thornton's character through his friendship with the kid--one of the most disarming relationships in film that year.

What's next for Zwigoff? Look for the 2005 release of Art School Confidential, about an undercover cop (John Malkovich) who poses as an artist before coming to the conclusion that pretending to be a serial killer will lead him to great acclaim.