My Top 30 Greatest Movies, Part 1.
I took some time to read my old posts in this blog, and it occurred to me that while I reference a ton of my favorite films, I’ve never given you a definitive list of films that make up my personal canon of what I consider the greatest films. So in a three-part series, I’ll break down what I consider to be the greatest films in my personal experience. It’s all subjective, of course, and discussion / debate is always encouraged.
30) Sweet Smell of Success, 1957, directed by Alexander Mackendrick.
Quite possibly the greatest dialogue ever written in a screenplay, Mackendrick’s scathing critique of American celebrity and journalism also gives us one of the most terrifying creatures on film, the gossip columnist JJ Hunsecker, played with unparalleled ferocity by Burt Lancaster. Hunsecker is the ghoul in the mirror that we refuse to acknowledge, and Lancaster oozes power in its most vile form. A must-see for screenwriters who want to experience the power of carefully selected wordplay. Also of note is the gorgeous camerawork by cinematographer James Wong Howe.
29) Monty Python and the Holy Grail, 1974, directed by Terry Gilliam and Terry Jones.
Looking beyond how absolutely batshit crazy and hilarious this film is, of note is the cinematic quality of its images. The grime and density of the picture hearkens the bastard stepchild of Andrei Tarkovsky, and the production design, while crude, is ace. The Pythons also remind us that “convention” is a word designed to be defied, as they wrap this most improbable of films with a grim statement of how the human race has completely lost its sense of humor.
28) Vampyr, 1932, directed by Carl Theodor Dreyer.
Dryer rightfully belongs in the ranks of Kurosawa, Tarkovsky and Bergman as one of cinema’s truly great visualists, and Vampyr is, to me, his crowning achievement. A loose narrative is bound by a series of absolutely haunting images, many of them in long, languid takes that defy the technology of the era. Dryer plays with shadow, movement, and performance in a seamless whole, and creates one of the most complete experiences in visual storytelling. Study Dryer and receive the history of visual narrative, even in its most contemporary form.
27) Moon, 2009, directed by Duncan Jones.
Perfectly constructed, and a model of what imagination, resourcefulness and performance can do to bolster an impossibly small budget, especially in this era of $200 million science fiction epics. Duncan Jones makes an improbable debut, beckoning the ghost of Stanley Kubrick and reinforcing that outer space is an impossibly cold and lonely place. A triumph in concept and execution, and a film that will be appreciated in decades to come.
26) Mahanagar (The Big City), 1964, directed by Satyajit Ray.
Few stories address the male ego, and those that do always seem to frame it in terms of sex and power, and not survival. This is what differs Satyajit Ray’s brilliant portrait of a young family in the big city, where the husband loses his job, and his wife, seeking more income for the family, reluctantly takes a job and excels at it, earning more than her partner. The dynamic is deftly handled and brilliantly performed, showing Ray’s unparalleled ability to extract top performances set against a backdrop of painterly beauty.
25) The Goonies, 1985, directed by Richard Donner.
It’s been a long time since I had a true, agenda-free adventure at the movies. One that made me laugh and marvel, one that was just about pure entertainment. The last time I felt like that was watching The Goonies, which never fails to entertain me. It’s every kid’s dream come true - the grand summer adventure, the opportunity to be a hero, and the geeky kid gets to kiss the popular girl. It’s pirates, cops and robbers, and cat and mouse. It’s pure fun, American big-studio filmmaking at its finest, and that’s always welcome.
24) Ratcatcher, 1999, directed by Lynne Ramsay.
There are plenty of films that wear their influences on their sleeve, Lilith included. When watching Lynne Ramsay’s incredible debut film Ratcatcher, it was very evident that Francois Truffaut’s The 400 Blows pulsed through it’s veins, and that’s not a bad thing at all. Ratcatcher was one of those films where I felt a true release, a film that relents its vice-like grip with a final shot of unimaginable beauty, akin to Truffaut’s flight to freedom at the end of The 400 Blows. Beautifully photographed and expertly paced, it’s easily one of the greatest British films ever made.
23) Primer, 2003, directed by Shane Carruth.
Made for an impossible $7,000 and winner of the Sundance Grand Jury Prize, Shane Carruth’s Primer is a marvel to watch. Wringing conflict and tension from the most affordable special effect - the human condition - Carruth spins a science fiction yarn of time travel so complex and mind-boggling that it feels as vast as any major studio big-budget space epic. This is writing at its most creative and resourceful, and a pure joy to revel in.
22) Enter the Dragon, 1973, directed by Robert Clouse.
Bruce Lee is a god to me, and that’s why Enter the Dragon is important. As a story it is weak and flawed, but Lee’s presence is bigger than anything I’ve ever experienced in cinema. Bigger than John Wayne, bigger than Laurence Olivier, bigger than Clint Eastwood. Bruce Lee is a tractor beam to our eyes, and this film cements him as the greatest onscreen cinematic force in history. Magnetic, charming, confident and powerful, Lee is the everyman packaged as an immortal.
21) Gandhi, 1982, directed by Richard Attenborough.
I’m normally not a fan of biopics, as I find them to be self-aggrandizing and trite. But I was culturally obligated to see Gandhi when I was a kid, and it was the first time I saw my parents cry at the movies. In fact it was the first time I saw my father cry period. Despite my embarrassment in the theater (I was six years old), I remember being absolutely captivated by the sheer scale of the film. It was an India that I was unfamiliar with, and it was vast, beautiful and diverse. Attenborough created the metaphor that Gandhi was India incarnate, and showed every aspect of the country and culture embodied in one man. The film also features, in my opinion, the greatest performance in modern cinema, that of Gandhi by Sir Ben Kingsley. Recent Best Actor winners have won on the back of intense, one-note performances, but Kingsley is a revelation of human emotion. His Gandhi is not an angel - he is ridiculously stubborn, an acknowledged manipulator, and someone teetering on a God Complex. So powerful was Kinglsley that when I had the opportunity to meet and talk to him at the 2004 Cinequest Film Festival, I told him that I don’t even know what the real Mahatma Gandhi looks like, because in my mind, Gandhi looks like Ben Kingsley. A movie like Gandhi can never be made again, as it is a confluence of skills and grandeur that simply cannot survive in today’s studio, star, and politically inert driven climate. One of the greatest civil rights movies ever made, and one of the greatest movies period.
To be continued next post!
