My Top 30 Greatest Movies, Part 2.
Continued from the last post, here are entries 20-11 for my greatest films. Only one of you has challenged my choices thus far - c’mon now, I can’t be that spot on, right? BTW to answer the challenge, I chose Enter the Dragon knowing it is a bad movie, but it’s all about the presence of Bruce Lee. In a rare admission, it is a love letter to a true blue movie star, and I’m in awe of it. If I could make a film with a lead character with that kind of presence, then I’ll have accomplished something special, and I’d have found the next big actor / actress for the generation.
But without further hesitation, my next ten greatest films:
20) Coming to America, 1988, directed by John Landis.
My favorite, most often-quoted comedy of all-time. This is a film where everything clicks, the script, direction, chemistry of the actors, hair, makeup, art direction and music are all on the same elevated page. It is also the ability to see a performer at the very height of his powers, as Eddie Murphy is an unstoppable force of nature. The film features so many smaller vignettes and characters that could support several spin-off features of their own, but I’m glad that didn’t happen. In today’s film industry it would. Although I’d be lying if I didn’t want to see a full length “Sexual Chocolate” feature.
19) Man Bites Dog, 1992, directed by Rémy Belvaux.
This Belgian serial killer mockumentary was my first introduction to gallows humor, and I was ashamed for so long for laughing at its grisly, morbid sensibility. One of the first in the now much-beleagured “found footage” horror genre, the film follows a documentary crew as they record the exploits of a serial killer, and their involvement creates a scathing satire and commentary of how far today’s media is willing to go for that big, shocking story. Featuring a powerhouse performance by Benoît Poelvoorde, who creates one of the most charming and charismatic serial killers ever put on film.
18) The Fog of War: Eleven Lessons from the Life of Robert S. McNamara, 2003, directed by Errol Morris.
Errol Morris pioneered the documentary with high aesthetics. He employs the cornerstones of narrative fiction filmmaking, but the truth and reality of the subject is never, never lost, and the confluence of styles makes for some of the most revealing and probing films ever made (The Thin Blue Line and Dr. Death are close favorites). The Fog of War is perhaps his most riveting account, as Morris taps the mind of former Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara, a controversial and polarizing figure who can also be attributed to preventing World War III at the Bay of Pigs. It’s a revealing documentary on the nature of power, fear and leadership, and is as intense as any fiction thriller. The fact that it is all real makes it all the more chilling.
17) Grave of the Fireflies, 1988, directed by Isao Takahata.
The first of two anime films to make my list, this is perhaps the most emotional film I’ve ever seen, an absolutely heartbreaking story of survival set in the aftermath of the Kobe firebombings in 1945. After the bombings, widespread malnutrition and disease spread across the country, and a generation of orphans were created. Takahata’s film eschews politics and rather focuses on the true casualties of war, and it is all done in breathtakingly beautiful animation. If seeking this film out, please watch the Japanese version with English subtitles, as the English dubbed version is atrocious.
16) Innocence, 2004, directed by Lucile Hadzihalilovic.
A very odd film that continues to captivate me to this very day. A group of girls are inexplicably delivered (in coffins, no less) to a dark, draconian finishing school in the middle of a beautiful wilderness. What the girls are being prepared for is a mystery, and the ending of the film leaves its purpose in a fog of moral ambiguity. This is a graceful film, elegant, and yet carries an underbelly of darkness and haunting taboo. I love the choices it makes, the visuals, and the very strong performances. The film is on my list simple for the fact that it remains embedded in my memory from start to finish, and few films are able to do that.
15) Se7en, 1995, directed by David Fincher.
I’ve written a lot about Se7en on this blog, and it remains one of the truly great American films for me as an audience. But I revere it even more as a filmmaker, largely because of its technical excellence. Right from its riveting, Nine Inch Nails-driven opening credits, the film is a technical marvel. Darius Khondji’s bleach-bypass cinematography is oft-referenced but yet-to-be-replicated in its perfection, and Fincher’s pacing is calculated and phenomenal.
14) The Breakfast Club, 1985, directed by John Hughes.
The film of an entire generation, and John Hughes’ crowning achievement in his flawless career. Built entirely on dialogue and character, it is heartfelt and still to this day is likely the only film that remains true to what it means to be a teenager.
13) Romper Stomper, 1992, directed by Geoffrey Wright.
This film grabs you by the throat and never lets go, even after it’s done. An acidic portrait of Australian skinhead culture, the film is however a greater portrait of brotherhood and, ultimately, love. Russell Crowe is flawless in this film, playing a naive der fuhrer who is a very big fish in a very small pond. In one of the most memorable sequences in my memory, Crowe stands off against the retribution of the Vietnamese immigrant community, armed with nunchucks and a single, determined line: Come on!. The film is also a reminder of the tragic loss of a brilliant acting talent in Daniel Pollock, who committed suicide in 1992. Pollock was every equal to Crowe, and the energy from both drives this film into immortality.
12) The Dreamlife of Angels, 1998, directed by Erick Zonka.
I’ve always been a fan of European realism, and Erick Zonka’s astounding directorial debut gives a peek into lives rarely seen on film. Two young women, one hailing from privilege and the other an urchin from the streets, decide to live together and take on life, one job and boyfriend at a time. The film is dichotomous in every aspect, even in its bleak conclusion, and yet the final, amazing shot (quite possibly the best final shot I’ve ever seen) lets us know that this is a universal story, and each and every one of us carries a similar struggle in our hearts. The film also features an absolutely gorgeous soundtrack by Yann Tiersen.
11) Once Upon a Time in the West, 1968, directed by Sergio Leone.
I’ve only been to a handful of operas, but none of them compare to Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in the West. For me it’s the greatest western ever made, a culmination of everything learned from the greats like John Ford, Anthony Mann and Howard Hawks. It paved the road for departures from the genre like the Sam Peckinpah’s equally epic The Wild Bunch, and gives us a magnificent score from Ennio Morricone, particularly his theme for Charles Bronson’s character “Harmonica.” The film in fact gives a theme for every character, hearkening its comparisons to classic opera even more. A true cinematic experience.
Next entry: the final ten!
