TALLY at November–December 2001, after 203 original lists, 28 revised lists, and 2 deleted lists: By film: La Règle du jeu  1.  2.  3.  4.  5.  6.  9. Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941) La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939) 2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927) Seven Samurai        (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) The Thin Red Line       (Terrence Malick, 1998) Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966) Mirror        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974) The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956) 42 23 20 19 18 16 16 16 15 15 15 By director: Robert Bresson  1.  2.  3.  4.  5.  6.  7.  8. 10. Alfred Hitchcock Jean-Luc Godard Robert Bresson Andrei Tarkovsky Orson Welles Stanley Kubrick Carl Dreyer Ingmar Bergman Martin Scorsese Yasujiro Ozu   65   57   55   45   44   39   36   35   35   34   back to the top of the page

September–October 2001   David Boxwell Andrew Bunney   revised list Michelle Carey   revised list Thomas Comerford Rick Curnutte   revised list Patrick K. Dailey Anne Démy-Geroe Dog Breath Geoff Gardner   revised list Tally: Sept–Oct 2001 Alexander Greenhough Alexander Jacoby Elric Kane Zachary Michael Reno Andy Sparks Steve Thorn Andy Todes Alexandru Vitzentzatos Peter Wilshire

David Boxwell (in chronological order) Pandora's Box        (G.W. Pabst, 1928) Les Dames du Bois de Boulogne        (Robert Bresson, 1945) Notorious        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1946) Gilda        (Charles Vidor, 1946) Gentlemen Prefer Blondes        (Howard Hawks, 1953) Viaggio in Italia        (Roberto Rossellini, 1953) Les Yeux sans visage        (Georges Franju, 1959) Peeping Tom        (Michael Powell, 1960) Full Metal Jacket        (Stanley Kubrick, 1987) Dead Ringers        (David Cronenberg, 1988) The ten greatest films of all time – or, at least, ten great films of exquisite perversity and/or cruelty from ten different directors, served up piping hot (Hawks, Powell) or stone cold (Kubrick, Bresson) or somewhere in between (the others). David Boxwell teaches film studies at the U.S. Air Force Academy, Colorado. Andrew Bunney (revised list, in preferential order) 1.  Hardcore Logo        (Bruce McDonald, 1996) 2.  Heavenly Creatures        (Peter Jackson, 1994) 3.  Memento        (Christopher Nolan, 2000) 4.  Les Vacances de M. Hulot        (Jacques Tati, 1953) 5.  American Beauty        (Sam Mendes, 1999) 6.  Les Quatre Cents Coups        (François Truffaut, 1959) 7.  Blue Velvet        (David Lynch, 1986) 8.  Don't Look Back        (DA Pennebaker, 1967) 9.  The Tin Drum        (Volker Schlöndorff, 1979) 10. Secrets and Lies        (Mike Leigh, 1997) See also Andrew's previous list: Feb–Mar 2001 Andrew Bunney is an emerging film writer based in Adelaide. Michelle Carey (revised list, in no particular order) Celine et Julie vont en bateau        (Jacques Rivette, 1974) Terra Em Transe        (Glauber Rocha, 1967) L'Uccello Dalle Piume de Cristallo        (Dario Argento, 1969) In the Mood for Love        (Wong Kar-wai, 2000) Vivre sa vie        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1962) Ikiru        (Akira Kurosawa, 1952) Good Men, Good Women        (Hou Hsiao-hsien, 1995) Le Diable Probablement        (Robert Bresson, 1977) Werckmeister Harmonies        (Béla Tarr, 2000) Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) A completely different list (bar one - Celine) for me, the result of my fortunate access to a wider variety of films over the past year. Each one of these films changed me in some subtle way. See also Michelle's previous list: Nov 2000 Michelle Carey assists in exhibition at Mercury Cinema when she's not pushing 40 year old French films onto unsuspecting customers at Kino Video Library in Adelaide. Thomas Comerford This list reflects the ten films which I feel have had a dramatic impact on my relationship to cinema. Due to the various circumstances in which I first saw each of these films (as projected celluloid), they either completely changed my assumptions of what cinema is capable of and/or influenced my own approach to making films. Some of them (like the Bergman) I no longer consider to be great films, but the timing was right in the original viewing context. Others (like the Bresson) I have watched numerous times and continue to draw inspiration from. The films are in the order in which I discovered them (year in parenthesis). Red Sorghum        (Zhang Yimou, 1987)        (1989) The Seventh Seal        (Ingmar Bergman, 1957)        (1990) Battleship Potemkin        (Sergei Eisenstein, 1925)        (1993) The End        (Christopher Maclaine, 1953)        (1993) Notebook        (Marie Menken, 1963)        (1993) Mirror        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974)        (1995) Sans soleil         (Chris Marker, 1982)        (1996) Vampyr        (Carl Dreyer, 1932)        (1996) Arnulf Rainer        (Peter Kubelka, 1960)        (1998) Mouchette        (Robert Bresson, 1967)        (1999) Addtional things I wanted to fit in: Landscape with the Fall of Icarus, Christopher Sullivan, 1992 (1993) / The Navigator, Buster Keaton, 1924 (1993) / Numero Deux, Jean-Luc Godard, 1972 (1997) / Ugetsu Monogatari, Kenji Mizoguchi, 1953 (1998) / Beau Travail, Claire Denis, 1999 (2000) / Not Reconciled, Jean-Marie Straub/Daniele Huillet, 1965 (2001). Thomas Comerford is a filmmaker and teacher based in Chicago. Rick Curnutte It's amazing what a difference time makes. Looking back on my first list, I was amazed at its insistence upon the Basics. But then I realised that no choice would be original, ever, and that I should just chill out already and get to it. (revised list, in preferential order) 1.  La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc        (Carl Dreyer, 1928) Dreyer's methodically paced tour de force is stunning in its ponderous dissection of dogma and oppression, and features the single greatest performance in film's history. 2.  Battleship Potemkin        (Sergei Eisenstein, 1925) Praised for pioneering montage, Eisenstein's films have always felt claustrophobic to me at the outset, then burst with energy and spirit at some critical point. I've heard Eisenstein called a "mechanical" director, like his (in my estimation) successor, Stanley Kubrick. On the contrary, I feel his films are filled with passion, albeit extraordinarily well-photographed passion. 3.  The General        (Buster Keaton/Clyde Bruckman, 1926) 4.  Modern Times        (Charles Chaplin, 1936) The two greatest screen comedies of all time, as well as two of the finest performances. Keaton, oft the anti-Chaplin, is stoic, yet lively. Chaplin, in his finest film, is so gut-wrenchingly funny, yet so heartbreaking and brave: not only did he point his finger at "technology", he willingly jabbed at his own culpability in the mess being created. 5.  Psycho        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960) The blackest of black comedies, mistaken for a horror film. Hitchcock's masterful hand has never been more present or palpable, be it in the nuances (the first time a toilet was seen being flushed), or in the outrageous choices (killing off a major star a quarter of the way through the picture). Anthony Perkins is pitch-perfect, in every smirking, twitching, candy-chewing minute. 6.  The Night of the Hunter        (Charles Laughton, 1955) Laughton's only foray into directing lays claim to the title of finest thriller. Robert Mitchum is menacing, and Lillian Gish is radiant and matronly as Mitchum's polar opposite. 7.  The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956) Ford's spare poetry gets me every time I see this film. And John Wayne reminds me that he was, besides being a movie star, also an actor capable of enormous sorrow and pathos. 8.  The Truman Show        (Peter Weir, 1998) A fable for the ages. Weir's fantasy/nightmare is an amazing portrait of the human condition. I love Jim Carrey's willingness to send up his own celebrity, as well as his ability to play the everyman to the tee. This film stimulates, enlightens and moves me like no other contemporary movie has. 9.  El Topo        (Alejandro Jodorowsky, 1971) Doesn't this film really defy explanation? It's a purely visceral and allegorical meditation on violence, sex and identity. Long a cult favourite, this film really deserves a wider audience, though the audience for a violent, revisionist Western with dwarves, lesbians and murderous undead cowboys may be very small. An epic of disturbed proportions. 10. Brief Encounter        (David Lean, 1945) The most literate, passionate love story ever filmed, bar none. Lean's sparse compositions and tight framing make this a wonder to behold. So what's new? My top four will likely always remain the same, so perfect are the members of the "elite". Gone are The Godfather II, Raging Bull, The Bride of Frankenstein, Un Chien Andalou, Citizen Kane, and A Bout de Souffle. On any given day, any of these films could be back on the list. So could these: 2001: A Space Odyssey, Aguirre: The Wrath of God, Apocalypse Now, Au Hasard, Balthazar, Dawn of the Dead, Days of Heaven, Dead Man, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, The Exorcist, Freaks, In the Mood for Love, La Jetee, The Last Temptation of Christ, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, Rosemary's Baby, Safe, Singin' in the Rain, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Weekend, and A Woman Under the Influence. See also Rick's other lists: Feb–Mar 2001        Nov–Dec 2003 Rick Curnutte is a compulsive listmaker anyway, so this forum gives him great pleasure. He is 25 years old and has no formal training of any kind, other than watching every film he can get his hands on. He is, ultimately, a hopeless geek. Patrick K. Dailey (in preferential order) 1.  Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941) Well, let's just say it's the only film that I would even consider entering into a contest, which debated the best artistic form: film, writing, theater, music or painting. 2.  Fantasia        (Ben Sharpsteen, et al, 1940) Since our form of storytelling was started by native peoples drawing on cave walls, I felt a need to put an animated film on this list. So why not go with the only animated film with any legitimate artistic merit to it? 3.  Schindler's List        (Steven Spielberg, 1993) The only film in which I find it almost sacrilegious to eat or drink while watching! It is also difficult for me to continue breathing while undertaking the experience! 4.  Nixon        (Oliver Stone, 1995) One of the few films which captures the pure emotion of Shakespeare's writing, but also manages to flesh out the mystery of Richard M. Nixon perfectly. 5.  La Passion de Jeannne d'Arc        (Carl Dreyer, 1928) Simply the best slient film ever made! 6.  (Tie) Battleship Potemkin        (Sergei Eisenstein, 1925) / Greed        (Erich von Stroheim, 1925) Two of the great early filmmakers and their two best films in my opinion. Wonderful editing in Potemkin and ahead of its time acting in Greed, help both films. 7.  The Godfather & The Godfather II        (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972 & 1974) If you're an American, these are the films that best represent the new American way of life after the turn of the century. Plus, they feature some of the best screen writing you'll find anywhere in the world. 8.  Lawrence of Arabia        (David Lean, 1962) If my mind, the best example of good old-fashioned Hollywood filmmaking, combined with the French New Wave. Lean watched The 400 Blows and Breathless while editing Lawrence and it shows! 9.  2001: A Space Oddessy        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) Leave it up to Stanley Kubrick to try and change the form in which films are told and viewed by the masses. Which, he accomplished with this film, as well as Barry Lyndon (1975). 10.  Raging Bull        (Martin Scorsese, 1980) The ultimate non-fiction character study! Scorsese's masterpiece for the ages! Runners-Up... Wild Strawberries (Ingmar Bergman) The Seven Samurai (Akira Kurosawa) Olympia (Leni Riefenstahl) Modern Times (Charles Chaplin) Ran (Akira Kurosawa) The Thin Red Line (Terrence Malick) Days of Heaven (Terrence Malick) JFK (Oliver Stone) North by Northwest (Alfred Hitchcock) Intolerance (D.W. Griffith) Sunrise (F. W. Murnau) Rashomon (Akira Kurosawa) High and Low (Akira Kurosawa) The Searchers (John Ford) The Great Dictator (Charles Chaplin) City Lights (Charles Chaplin) Sherlock Jr. (Buster Keaton) Giant (George Stevens). Patrick K. Dailey, 21, is an aspiring filmmaker and college student based in Springfield, Missouri, and has a movie web page. Anne Démy-Geroe (in alphabetical order) Ascenseur pour l'echafaud        (Louis Malle, 1957) Broken Blossoms        (D.W. Griffith, 1919) Flowers of Shanghai        (Hou Hsiao-hsien, 1998) The Hustler        (Robert Rossen, 1961) The Music Room        (Satyajit Ray, 1958) Orphée        (Jean Cocteau, 1950) La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939) Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) Il Vangelo Secondo Matteo        (Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1964) The Wild Bunch        (Sam Peckinpah, 1969) Anne Démy-Geroe is Artistic Director of the Brisbane International Film Festival. Dog Breath (in no particular order) Good Morning        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1959) A nice study of the importance of mundane communication in how people touch upon each other. Walkabout        (Nicolas Roeg, 1971) A study of the juxtaposition of humanity's existence within nature and civilised society. La Passion de Jeannne d'Arc        (Carl Dreyer, 1928) A human study of the mythic figure. The Big Lebowski        (Joel Coen, 1998) The greatest comedy ever written studies how we reconcile and perceive our own identities. The Lady Vanishes        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1938) The greatest of Hitchcock's films from his British era. Contact        (Robert Zemeckis, 1997) A worthy study of the juxtaposition between religion and science and how they can be reconciled with each other. Tombstone for Fireflies        (Isao Takahata, 1988) Animation is not about singing teapots, it can be serious forays into human nature. Hidden Fortress        (Akira Kurosawa, 1958) Not his most serious film, but the most fun, with all the Kurosawa trademarks. Tokyo Drifter        (Seijun Suzuki, 1966) Pop culture with an appropriately Japanese twist. Mon Oncle        (Jacques Tati, 1958) A humourous study of man and technological innovation; do the latest gadgets really improve our lives or complicate it? Dog Breath is a film lover based in Vancouver, BC, Canada, and administrator of the DVD of the Month Club. Geoff Gardner (revised list, in chronological order) A Dog's Life        (Charles Chaplin, 1918) L'Atalante        (Jean Vigo, 1934) Le Crime de Monsieur Lange        (Jean Renoir, 1936) A Hen in the Wind        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1948) Pickpocket        (Robert Bresson, 1959) Muriel        (Alain Resnais, 1963) Les Parapluies de Cherbourg        (Jacques Demy, 1964) Il Conformista        (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1969) Taipei Story        (Edward Yang, 1984) After Life        (Hirokazu Kore-eda, 1998) See also Geoff's previous list: Feb 2000 Geoff Gardner was once a founder of the company that evolved into Ronin Films and was once the director of the Melbourne Film Festival (retired hurt, 1982). These days he offers some program suggestions to the Brisbane International Film Festival. Alexander Greenhough (in no particular order) Les Rendez-vous d'Anna        (Chantal Akerman, 1978) Floating Weeds        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1959) The Magnificent Ambersons        (Orson Welles, 1942) Stalker        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979) The Conversation        (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974) Le Mépris        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963) The Shining        (Stanley Kubrick, 1980) L'Avventura        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1960) Pickpocket        (Robert Bresson, 1959) The Ice Storm        (Ang Lee, 1997) See also Alexander's revised lists: Jul–Aug 2002        Jan–Mar 2004 Alexander Greenhough is a graduate student and filmmaker living in Auckland, New Zealand. Alexander Jacoby (in chronological order - one film per director) City Girl        (F.W. Murnau, 1930) Murnau's late masterpiece, as beautiful as Sunrise, subtler and more spontaneous. The last great silent film. Trouble in Paradise        (Ernst Lubitsch, 1932) Hollywood's great comedy of romance and finance, Lubitsch's airiest and most down to earth concoction. La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939) Renoir's masterly dissection of a class and a nation on the verge of the abyss. Utamaro and his Five Women        (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1947) Objectively speaking, probably less perfect a film than Sansho Dayu or Ugetsu, but more surprising, with humour as well as tragedy, and one of the great artistic testaments. Early Summer        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1951) Again, not its director's most famous film, but as complex and perfect as Tokyo Story, with Ozu's style even more nuanced. Ordet        (Carl Dreyer, 1954) Dreyer's most sublime testament to the spiritual power of human love. Un Condamné à Mort s'est Echappé        (Robert Bresson, 1956) Again, the spiritual power of human love. Bresson's most redeeming film. Home From the Hill        (Vincente Minnelli, 1959) Minnelli's greatest melodrama, and the American cinema's most piercing critique of masculine values. Le Mépris        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963) Godard's masterpiece, a magnificent commentary on the decline of Western civilisation and the death of cinema. A Short Film About Love        (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1988) Kieslowski's aching study of loneliness and contact, the need for and fear of love. Sadly omitted, anything by Ophuls! I couldn't choose between Liebelei, Letter from an Unknown Woman and Madame de... Alexander Jacoby, 22, is a student at Emmanuel College, Cambridge and a film critic. He is currently working on a Critical Dictionary of Japanese Film. Elric Kane (in preferential order) 1.  Stalker        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979) The zone is our own interpretation and Tarkovsky our stalker, this exposed me to a master filmmaker and the other level to which film can work on. 2.  Pickpocket        (Robert Bresson, 1959) Non-actors, slow pacing, and extistentialism galore create an unforgettable experience that forces one to think beyond what is so minimally presented. 3.  L'Avventura        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1960) The spaces that separate people both physically and spiritually has never been portrayed better than here. 4.  The Exterminating Angel        (Luis Buñuel, 1962) This film seems to sum up Buñuel's obsessions best. The manners of the upper class tested against an impossible situation. 5.  Pierrot le Fou        (Jean-luc Godard, 1965) Godard's fairytale. Tough to choose only one film from such a varied artist, but Belmondo and dynamite can't be wrong! 6.  L'Année Dernière à Marienbad        (Alain Resnais, 1962) The closest I've seen to cinematic poetry. Resnais' use of time and varying repetition is brilliant. 7.  Aguirre: the Wrath of God        (Werner Herzog, 1972) Obsession personified. Herzog and Kinski doing a Spanish costume drama in the Amazon, their exploits make the real Aguirre look tame. 8.  Les Yeux sans visage        (Georges Franju, 1959) Part fairytale, part horror, a one of a kind film with a truly beautiful finale. 9.  El Topo        (Alejandro Jodorowsky, 1971) "If you are great than El Topo is great, but if you are limited than the film is limited" - Jodorowsky. Nuff said! 10.  La Maman et la Putain        (Jean Eustache, 1973) Perhaps the pinnacle of the new wave, frank sexuality discussed between JP Leaud and his two lovers. Sadly a list like this is missing great works of Oshima, Kubrick, Hartley, Lynch, Cronenberg, Peckinpah, Bergman, Fassbinder, Polanski, Wenders, Carax, Argento, but that's the point of lists! See also Elric's revised lists: Jul–Aug 2002        Jul–Sept 2004 Elric Kane is a 23 year old filmmaker who lives in Wellington, New Zealand, and travels back to his birthplace of New York as much as possible. Contact: elmohead@hotmail.com Zachary Michael Reno (in no order) M        (Fritz Lang, 1931) Haunting... Shadows        (John Cassavetes, 1959) Maybe it's the soundtrack...it's just my favourite Cassavetes film...also the improv. Branded to Kill        (Seijun Suzuki, 1967) All I can say is...I watched it 3 days in a row...and I prefer it over the almost equal Tokyo Drifter. Pierrot le Fou        (Jean-luc Godard, 1965) I told myself only one Godard film... Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) Only one Hitchcock film? La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc        (Carl Dreyer, 1928) Silence... Les Glaneurs et la glaneuse        (Agnés Varda, 2000) Hidden master of documentary...adding personal insight along the way... L'Avventura        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1960) I'm still confused... Rififi        (Jules Dassin, 1955) First off...the famous robbery scene...but the kid in the car at the end!!! The Last Laugh        (F.W. Murnau, 1925) Simply beautiful... (***SHINODA, BUNUEL, JARMUSCH, CHABROL, POLANSKI !!!, KOBAYASHI, WAKAMATSU, WONG KAR-WAI, VERTOV, OZU, KUROSAWA.....***) And there are so many films I haven't seen!!! Zachary Michael Reno is currently teaching himself film in Portland, Oregon ... He is watching, making, testing, playing ... Andy Sparks (in no particular order) Pierrot le Fou        (Jean-luc Godard, 1965) Mirror        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974) Boy Meets Girl        (Léos Carax 1984) The Last Laugh        (F.W. Murnau, 1925) L'Atalante        (Jean Vigo, 1934) Intolerance        (D.W. Griffith, 1916) Days of Heaven        (Terrence Malick, 1978) Greed        (Erich von Stroheim, 1925) The Seventh Seal        (Ingmar Bergman, 1957) Le Testament d'Orphée        (Jean Cocteau, 1959) See also Andy's revised list: May–June 2002 Andy Sparks is an independent filmmaker who was a painter during 1994–1999 (Richmond, VA) and is currently (August 2001) shooting his first film (Savannah, GA) and moving to NY (November 2001). Steve Thorn (in no particular order) Un Condamné à Mort s'est Echappé        (Robert Bresson, 1956) The Criminal Life of Archibaldo de la Cruz        (Luis Buñuel, 1955) Floating Weeds        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1959) Pierrot Le Fou        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1965) City Lights        (Charles Chaplin, 1931) Les Quatre Cents Coups        (François Truffaut, 1959) Brief Encounter        (David Lean, 1945) Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976) Greed        (Erich von Stroheim, 1925) The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly        (Sergio Leone, 1966) I regret to not include such films as: 2001: A Space Odyssey, Seven Samurai, Ikiru, Double Indemnity, Der Bleu Angel, Sansho Dayu, Fitzcarraldo, Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters, and any other Godard, Buñuel, Truffaut, Hitchcock, Chaplin, Renoir, Scorsese, Wilder, Eisenstein, Ozu or Herzog film. Steve Thorn is a film buff in Victoria, B.C. Canada. Andy Todes (in preferential order) 1.  The Thin Red Line        (Terrence Malick, 1998) The score. The cinematography. The simplicity of the story. 2.  Seven Samurai        (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) The hostage scene. The sword duel. Toshiro Mifune. 3.  Ikiru        (Akira Kurosawa, 1952) Takashi Shimura. The scene in the snow. The moral of the story. 4.  The Godfather        (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972) The wedding. The dialogue. The performances. 5.  Days of Heaven        (Terrence Malick, 1978) The editing. The cinematography. The score. 6.  Rear Window        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1954) Grace Kelly. The entire window idea. Grace Kelly. 7.  The Wizard of Oz        (Victor Fleming, 1939) The songs. The sets. The fun of it all. 8.  Raging Bull        (Martin Scorsese, 1980) The editing. The cinematography. The performances. 9.  Ladri di Biciclette        (Vittorio de Sica, 1948) The ending. The acting. The ending. 10. You Can Count on Me        (Kenneth Lonergan, 2000) The screenplay. The editing. Mark Ruffalo. Left on the cutting room floor: M, Star Wars, East of Eden, The Adventures of Robin Hood, Belle du Jour, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Gadjo Dilo, Dead Poets Society, The Big Lebowksi, Das Boot, Double Indemnity, Tokyo Story, Divided We Fall, Belle Epoque, Apocalypse Now (featuring the greatest cameo of all time – Robert Duvall's), Raising Arizona, Fargo, Baraka, Midnight Cowboy, Dog Day Afternoon, Palookaville, Magnolia, The Battleship Potemkin, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Aladdin, Toy Story 2, Singin' in the Rain, West Side Story, A River Runs Through It, Rashomon, Chinatown, The Conversation, The Celebration, Network, Betty Blue, Secrets and Lies, Hannah and Her Sisters, Manhattan. Boys Don't Cry, Yi Yi, Dial M for Murder, Election, Pulp Fiction, Do the Right Thing, The Mission, Dancer in the Dark, 12 Angry Men and Ran (featuring the most gutwrenching image ever committed to film: two women committing seppuku together.) Andy Todes, 30, was born in Johannesburg, grew up in Melbourne, lived briefly in Jerusalem, then settled in Philadelphia. When he's not packing and unpacking his bags, he's writing ads, taking photos, reading books, and watching movies. (And if his wife's got anything to do with it – painting the house.) Alexandru Vitzentzatos (in preferential order) 1.  Dead Man        (Jim Jarmusch, 1995) Best movie ever! Maybe the first western which has power, mysticism and a lot of meanings in every shot. Jarmusch is a genius! 2.  Faces        (John Cassavetes, 1968) Best movie ever about relationships & LOVE! 3.  Day of the Eclipse        (Aleksandr Sokurov, 1988) Best movie ever about... about... no one knows! 4.  Ordet        (Carl Dreyer, 1954) You will never see a movie with an atmosphere more transcendental! 5.  Pickpocket        (Robert Bresson, 1959) Details are the most important things in our lives! 6.  Eraserhead        (David Lynch, 1977) A personal & strange atmosphere. 7.  Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) You will find your family here, in this film! 8.  Mirror        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974) You can't believe that this is an autobiographical film! 9.  I Hired a Contract Killer        (Aki Kaurismäki, 1990) The most simple & tragi-comic film of our days! 10.  Wings of Desire        (Wim Wenders, 1987) LOVE is the greatest thing in this life & Wenders knows this! Here must be mentioned some other directors like: Jean Vigo, Truffaut, von Trier, Kitano, Béla Tarr, Angelopoulos, Ivens, Aleksei Gherman, Mizoguchi, Scorsese, Bruno Dumont, de Oliveira, Kanevsky, Bergman, Kiarostami, Lynch, Herzog, Wong, Lang, etc. And strange films like Baraka (Ron Frike) and Chant d'amour (Jean Genet). Alexandru Vitzentzatos is a film student based in Bucharest. Peter Wilshire I must emphasise that this is my current top ten list of films. These ten films were chosen spontaneously, are subject to change, and are in no particular order! The Ascent        (Larissa Shepitko, 1976) An astonishing achievement. Two Russian partisans are captured by the Germans during the winter of 1942. These two men are faced with a horrific choice: collaboration with the enemy or death. Sunrise        (F. W. Murnau, 1927) A silent classic. This turbulent love story is wonderfully expressed with the use of ambitious and surreal sets, combined with great visual flair. La Strada        (Federico Fellini, 1954) This great film has a basic story, yet is emotionally powerful and ultimately tragic. Replete with religious imagery, the film also achieves a poetic and slightly surreal visual quality. Umberto D.        (Vittorio De Sica, 1952) A superlative work and the zenith of Italian neo-realism. A simple but very moving story about the survival of an old man and his dog. The film also contains an underlying commentary on post-war Italy and its treatment of the aged. Kanal        (Andrzej Wajda, 1956) This film is a gut-wrenching psychological exploration of a group of Poles who retreat to the city's 'Kanaly' or sewer system. You can smell the stench, taste the polluted water, and hear the rats! Il Conformista        (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1969) A stunning achievement. A magnificent and beautifully crafted melding of style and substance. Vittorio Storaro's wonderful cinematography combines perfectly with the detached psychological state of the central character. Vampyr        (Carl Dreyer, 1932) A masterpiece of horror. Not gory or shocking, but rather unsettling and disturbing: the stuff that nightmares are made of! A strange and eerie film, with atmospheric misty photography. The Third Man        (Carol Reed, 1949) A classic. The zither music is played by Anton Karas who apparently was discovered by Carol Reed playing in a Viennese bar, and the film has possibly the most memorable ending I've ever seen. Seven Samurai        (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) An epic. The greatness of this film lies in the fact that collectively, these seven samurai seem to encompass almost every characteristic of the human condition (e.g. honour, bravery, strength, intellect, humour, fear, compassion ). It also has some of the greatest action sequences ever filmed. Point Blank        (John Boorman, 1967) I think this John Boorman film is still underrated and undervalued. Great use of technique (sound and visuals) and a terrific performance by Lee Marvin. A strange, disjointed, and dreamlike quality. Wonderfully innovative and experimental. But hey! Wait! What about: The Asphalt Jungle (1950), Double Indemnity (1944), The Killers (1946), L'Atalante (1934), Citizen Kane (1941), Casablanca (1942), Dead of Night (1945), Brief Encounter (1945), Odd Man Out (1947),The Bicycle Thief (1948), In A Lonely Place (1950), The Lost Weekend (1950), Ace in the Hole (aka:The Big Carnival) (1951), Rashomon (1950), The Big Combo (1955), A Man Escaped (1956), The Sweet Smell of Success (1957), Peeping Tom (1960), Victim (1961), Dr.Strangelove (1964), Woman of the Dunes (1964), The Pawnbroker (1965), Repulsion (1965), Blow up (1966), Le Samourai (1967), 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), The Conversation (1974), Apocalypse Now (1979), Prisoner of the Mountains (1996), Love is The Devil (1998), Hana-Bi (1998), Magnolia (1999), Amores Perros (2000).....and the list goes on.... Peter Wilshire is a Cinema Studies Honours Graduate at La Trobe University, a film writer, and life-long film enthusiast.

TALLY at September–October 2001, after 190 original lists, 26 revised lists, and 2 deleted lists: By film: 2001: A Space Odyssey  1.  2.  3.  4.  7.  9. Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941) Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927) La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939) Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) 2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966) Mirror        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974) Seven Samurai       (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) The Thin Red Line       (Terrence Malick, 1998) 39 19 18 16 16 16 15 15 14 14 By director: Andrei Tarkovsky  1.  2.  3.  4.  5.  6.  7.  9. 10. Alfred Hitchcock Jean-Luc Godard Robert Bresson Andrei Tarkovsky Orson Welles Carl Dreyer Stanley Kubrick Yasujiro Ozu Martin Scorsese Ingmar Bergman   62   53   52   42   39   35   34   34   33   32   back to the top of the page

July–August 2001   Greg Baker Andres Bermudez Gaston Cayman Anthony Easton Brian Frye Ian Haig Lindsay Anne Hallam   revised list Adele Hann Eric Henderson Julien Humphreys Tally: Jul–Aug 2001 Ryan McGinley Gawain McLachlan Kim Patterson Ingo Petzke Martin Plunkett Rad Rudd Max Scheinin   revised list Craig Small Julia Wilde Wong Lung-Hsiang

Greg Baker My father went to school for twelve years to get his MS in library science, and so I cut my teeth on foreign films shown on campuses in the '50s, but the only two I remember vividly are Genevieve and Les Vacances de M. Hulot. Extracurricular cinematic activities included 25 cent admission and ten cent popcorn in '20s era Chicago theatre, really temple, balconies enfolded by long-past design esthetics of ornate filligrees, fluted columns, rococco sensibilities, and there might even have been a gargoyle or two, but it was probably just another case of Rapture of the Cinemas that I was prone to succumb to. I got my ticket for Forbidden Planet via a promotional tie-in with Quaker Oats - open the box and a ticket was on the inside of the lid. In the '60s I stumbled upon the Unicorn Cinema in La Jolla, California, which with its spiritual siamese-twin bookstore The Mithras, embodied the design zeitgeist equivalent to the older temples. A wonderful place. I still lament its passing in 1977, but am grateful for the cinematic treasure chest of memories I have from there, as it elevated my senses with a giddy array of sparkling jewels from the forges of the greats and to this day defines my assesment of film. For all the new wave, post-modern, deconstructionist (and these are not necessarily negative appellations) films to have poured out since the '50s and '60s, this golden era of art and foreign film is still referred to and seen as a standard to be measured up to or by. Distilling it all down to the finest nectar of film that I am able to, herewith my selections: (in preferential order) 1.  Seven Samurai        (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) As close to perfect as it gets. 2.  Babette's Feast        (Gabriel Axel, 1987) The true essence of sacrifice based in love. 3.  Wings of Desire        (Wim Wenders, 1987) Transcendent. 4.  Koyaanisqatsi        (Godfrey Reggio, 1983) Staggering, spellbinding, incomparable even now. 5.  El Espíritu de la colmena        (Victor Erice, 1973) When I view this film, a quote from Tarkovsky's book Sculpting in Time comes to mind - "When I speak of poetry I am not thinking of it as a genre. Poetry is an awareness of the world, a particular way of relating to reality." 6.  Woman in the Dunes        (Hiroshi Teshigahara, 1964) Profoundly moving, beautiful, and not a little scary. 7.  Aguirre: the Wrath of God        (Werner Herzog, 1972) Madness and destruction. Don't follow leaders, watch your parking meters. 8.  Sherman's March/Time Indefinite        (Ross McElwee, 1991/1993) Sublime. Genius. Hilarious. Poignant. Not to be missed! 9.  Fitzcarraldo/Burden of Dreams        (Werner Herzog/Les Blank, 1982) A visionary director perseveres to bring a visionary character to life. 10. Dekalog        (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1988) The Hand of God disguised as cinema. RUNNERS-UP: Apocalypse Now/Hearts of Darkness, The Seventh Seal, Maborosi, Macbeth (Polanski,) Beauty and the Beast (Cocteau,) Walkabout, Before the Rain, Underground, O Lucky Man, Children of Paradise, The Stunt Man, Sorcerer, The Cook, The Thief, His Wife & Her Lover, Black Narcissus, Marat/Sade, The Element of Crime, Black Orpheus, Melvin & Howard, The Day of the Locust, The Ninth Configuration, L'Avventura, Kwaidan, Adventures of Baron Munchausen, Andrei Rublev, The Scent of Green Papaya, Tokyo-ga, Wild Strawberries, Delicatessen, Tampopo, Gospel According to Saint Matthew, The Hidden Fortress, Last Year at Marienbad, Insignificance, Knife in the Water, The Last Waltz, Tristana, Medium Cool, Onibaba, Toto the Hero, Ugetsu, The Burmese Harp, Divertimento, Storm over Asia, The Duellists, Floating Weeds, Red Desert, Hunter in the Dark, Hypothesis of the Stolen Painting, if...., Cinema Paradiso, Il Postino, Raising Arizona, Cruel Story of Youth, The Kingdom, Arabian Nights, Dead-Alive, Freaks, Hour of the Wolf, Pather Panchali, Ordet, The Piano, Ivan the Terrible, The Pedestrian, Persona, Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors, Blue, White, Red, The Singing Detective, Sleuth, The Loved One, The Bicycle Thief, The Train, Weekend, The Silence, The Insect Woman, La Dolce Vita, Stalker, In the White City, Dust, Ran, The Hudsucker Proxy, Alphaville... I wish to note what a privileged and gifted era we live in – at no other time in human experience has there been the capability to incorporate the arts of sculpture, architecture, theatre, painting, literature and photography (have I missed any?) into one medium – cinema! Peter Greenaway, in an interview in Salon.com, says that all that can be done with cinema has been done; yet Andrei Tarkovsky says in his book Sculpting in Time that this is the first time in the history of art that an artist could capture time, and we don't yet realise what can be done with it, the art is too new. Who is right? Time will tell. Greg Baker, 54, is a surfer/bicyclist/writer/photographer/desert rat/recovering fundamentalist/corporate burnout living an a small backcountry town east of San Diego with an Australian Cattle Dog. He built his video collection to fend off insanity during cold, lonely winter nights (he hates TV). He can be reached at gbake@mtnempire.net Andres Bermudez (in chronological order) Battleship Potemkin        (Sergei Eisenstein, 1925) Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941) The Third Man        (Carol Reed, 1949) The Seventh Seal        (Ingmar Bergman, 1957) Smultronstället / Wild Strawberries        (Ingmar Bergman, 1957) Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) 8½        (Federico Fellini, 1963) Persona        (Ingmar Bergman, 1966) Le charme discret de la bourgeoisie        (Luis Buñuel, 1972) El Espíritu de la colmena        (Victor Erice, 1973) Andres Bermudez is a cinephile from Bogota, Colombia. He is 18 years old and starting Literature at Los Andes University this August; and he is planning to study Cinema in Paris or Madrid starting next year. Gaston Cayman I've tried to pin down the ten films, or at least ten of the films, that, while possessing my own terribly subjective view of "genuine artistic quality", also have commanded my attention and efforts so that I might view them repeatedly. (in no particular order) Sunset Boulevard        (Billy Wilder, 1950) A tragedy of operatic proportions, a thriller, a satire... Wilder's best. The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956) This stark, beautifully photographed, brilliantly chracterised piece of, almost, poetry remains the master at his very finest. As powerful a film as has ever been made. Persona        (Ingmar Bergman, 1966) Such a rich and complex work. So ahead of its time; or perhaps just out there on its own with other films being irrelevant to its timeliness. 8½        (Federico Fellini, 1963) Well, it's 8½, isn't it? Black Narcissus        (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1947) The sexiest and most blasphemous Disney film? Perhaps. Cries and Whispers        (Ingmar Bergman, 1972) Brutal, beautiful. Nashville        (Robert Altman, 1975) I was tempted to include a lesser known, or less often sighted, Altman film, but this, I feel, remains his best work. In my mind the ultimate "American" movie. Crimes and Misdemeanors        (Woody Allen, 1989) Everything Allen's ever tried to accomplish, or say, in film comes together in one cohesive whole; a tour de force, in that sense. The Wild Bunch        (Sam Peckinpah, 1969) A ferocious statement of purpose. A rich, dense, immensely beautiful, moving film. A Woman Under the Influence        (John Cassavetes, 1974) The most honest love story ever put on film? Regardless, a very real story, by one of the all-time great American filmmakers. Of the hundreds of films I just as easily might have listed instead, I'd like to mention: La Dolce Vita, The Seven Samurai, Brewster McCloud, Duck Soup, The Bicycle Thief, Rushmore, West Side Story, Forbidden Planet, The Long Goodbye, Shame, Repulsion, 3 Women, Virgin Spring, Minnie and Moskowitz, The Last Picture Show, Nights of Cabiria, Limelight, The Apartment, A Clockwork Orange, The Day the Earth Stood Still, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, A Knife in the Water, The Lost Weekend, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, Safe, Hail The Conquering Hero, City Lights, The Red Shoes, Singing in the Rain, The Seventh Seal, Shadow of a Doubt, Sullivan's Travels, La Strada, Barry Lyndon... I better stop there. Gaston Cayman, 30, is a fiction writer, essayist, and freelance journalist in New York City. Anthony Easton (in no particular order) Les Parapluies de Cherbourg        (Jacques Demy, 1964) Badlands        (Terrence Malick, 1973) Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941) Metropolis        (Fritz Lang, 1926) The Bride of Frankenstein        (James Whale, 1935) Peeping Tom        (Michael Powell, 1960) October        (Sergei Eisenstein, 1927) The General        (Buster Keaton/Clyde Bruckman, 1926) Raise the Red Lantern        (Zhang Yimou, 1991) A Bout de Souffle        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1959) See also Anthony's revised list: Nov–Dec 2002 Anthony Easton is an art history student at the University of Alberta in Edmonton, and tries to go to the movies once a week. Brian Frye (in alphabetical order) The Act of Seeing With One's Own Eyes        (Stan Brakhage, 1971) Centuries of June        (Stan Brakhage/Joseph Cornell, 1955) Cotillion/Midnight Party/The Children's Party        (Joseph Cornell, 1940s) The End        (Christopher Maclaine, 1953) La Grande Illusion        (Jean Renoir, 1937) The Hart of London        (Jack Chambers, 1969-'70) Heaven and Earth Magic        (Harry Smith, 1962) Wait        (Ernie Gehr, 1968) Les Yeux sans visage        (Georges Franju, 1959) Zefiro Torna, or Scenes from the Life of George Maciunas        (Jonas Mekas, 1972) I select these films based not on their special merit (though all are fantastically beautiful and profound films) but rather by virtue of their influence on my own filmmaking. I list them in alphabetical order as the viewing of each prompted an epiphany, and it is fundamentally impossible to gauge the intensity of an ecstatic moment. If one senses a common theme, it should not come as a surprise. Metaphysics is currently decidedly unfashionable, and likewise Kantian ethics. But one hardly chooses one's obsessions. Dreyer's Vampyr, Syberberg's Hitler, Dovzhenko's Earth, Buñuel's L'Âge d'or, Rouch's Les Maitres Fou, Gardner's Forest Of Bliss, Conner's Television Assassination, Ravett's Everything's For You and many others would certainly have found their way into a longer list. Their absence is sorely noted. Brian Frye is a filmmaker, curator and freelance writer living in New York City. Ian Haig (in preferential order) 1.  Ed Wood        (Tim Burton, 1994) 2.  Videodrome        (David Cronenberg, 1982) 3.  Once Upon a Time in America        (Sergio Leone, 1984) 4.  Princess Mononoke        (Hayao Miyazaki, 1998) 5.  The Thing        (John Carpenter, 1982) 6.  Starship Troopers        (Paul Verhoeven, 1997) 7.  Carlito's Way        (Brian De Palma, 1993) 8.  La Jetée        (Chris Marker, 1962) 9.  The Nutty Professor        (Jerry Lewis, 1963) 10. Two-Lane Blacktop        (Monte Hellman, 1971) Ian Haig is a Media Artist based in Melbourne. Lindsay Anne Hallam (revised list, in preferential order) 1.  Blue Velvet        (David Lynch, 1986) 2.  L'Âge d'or        (Luis Buñuel, 1930) 3.  Amateur        (Hal Hartley, 1994) 4.  Repulsion        (Roman Polanski, 1965) 5.  Wings of Desire        (Wim Wenders, 1987) 6.  The Night of the Hunter        (Charles Laughton, 1955) 7.  Aguirre: the Wrath of God        (Werner Herzog, 1972) 8.  Videodrome        (David Cronenberg, 1982) 9.  Pierrot le Fou        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1965) 10. The Big Lebowski        (Joel Coen, 1998) I tried to keep to one film per director which made for some hard decisions – Belle du Jour (Buñuel, 1967), Chinatown (Polanski, 1974) Paris, Texas (Wenders, 1984), Crash (Cronenberg, 1996), any early Godard and anything by David Lynch or the Coen Brothers could also be in there. And unfortunately there wasn't enough room to include films by Wong Kar-wai, Takeshi Kitano, Kubrick, Burton, Hitchcock, Lang, Gilliam, Malick, Wilder, Hawks, Argento, Scorsese, Waters, Welles, von Trier, Tourneur or Kurosawa. See also Lindsay's previous list: Dec 2000–Jan 2001 Lindsay Anne Hallam is a 21 year old student at Curtin University in Western Australia where she is majoring in Film and Television. Adele Hann (in no particular order) Seven Samurai        (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966) Ivan the Terrible        (Sergei Eisenstein, 1945 and 1958) The first film I saw where the power of every shot, the framing, composition and lighting immediately stamped it as a masterpiece. In the Realm of the Senses        (Nagisa Oshima, 1976) An exquisite, shocking creation of a state of insatiable desire and excess with the inevitable castration that is as emotionally comprehensible as it is appalling. La Jetée        (Chris Marker, 1962) An utterly paradoxical film – the simplest of forms, a series of still images, yet it creates a haunting series of paradoxes about memory, time & the little death of time that is cinema. Some Like It Hot        (Billy Wilder, 1959) A perfect comedy with a perfect ending. Belle de Jour        (Luis Buñuel, 1967) After eleven years in convent schools Belle de Jour was an almost unbearable exposition of repressed sexuality that still rattles my cage. The Hypothesis of the Stolen Painting        (Raúl Ruiz, 1978) My portal into the cinema of Ruiz and his wild intellectual games, art and Latin American fabulism. When We Were Kings        (Leon Gast, 1996) The audience, in a commercial cinema, stood up and cheered at the end of this, which I haven't experienced before in that context. It's hard to separate the greatness of the subject (Muhammad Ali) from the greatness of the film. Goodfellas        (Martin Scorsese, 1990) Adele Hann is a programmer and exhibitor who manages the Mercury Cinema for the Media Resource Centre in Adelaide. Eric Henderson (in chronological order) La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc        (Carl Dreyer, 1928) "Duck Amuck"        (Chuck Jones, 1953) Les Quatre Cents Coups        (François Truffaut, 1959) Yojimbo        (Akira Kurosawa, 1961) La Jetée        (Chris Marker, 1962) Repulsion        (Roman Polanski, 1965) Weekend        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1967) The Texas Chainsaw Massacre        (Tobe Hooper, 1974) Nashville        (Robert Altman, 1975) Rushmore        (Wes Anderson, 1998) I've got a lot of films left to see in my life, and although this list at one level represents what I feel to be the highest points in my viewing life thus far, I can only hope that on another level it stands as a promise of a far more exciting journey ahead. As of right now, I have a lifetime to savor the vacant eyes of Renée Falconetti, the run for freedom of young Antoine, the deadpan snark of Wes Anderson, the cortex-meltdown of Repulsion, the vicious mother-rearing display in Yojimbo, the relentless unpredictability of Jean-Luc Godard, the rich Vienetta of Altman's masterpiece, the withering shock of Texas Chainsaw's snuff, Daffy Duck's mise-en-scène-destroying journey, and the muted underground Mobius-strip of Chris Marker's filmed poem. My more traditional list of runners-up include: Chinatown (Polanski, 1974), Singin' in the Rain (Donen/Kelly, 1952), Taxi Driver (Scorsese, 1976), Sisters (De Palma, 1973), Shoeshine (De Sica, 1947), L'Atalante (Vigo, 1934), Straw Dogs (Peckinpah, 1971), Touch of Evil (Welles, 1958), Eraserhead (Lynch, 1978), and Showgirls (Verhoeven, 1995). See also Eric's revised list: Nov–Dec 2002 Eric Henderson is a 21 year old, burgeoning film glutton without a substantial-enough buffet (although he just moved back to Minneapolis after graduating from Concordia College in Moorhead, Minnesota, so that should help). He has worked in various cinemas, including a stint assisting the film program at a restored art house. Julien Humphreys (in no particular order) L'Âge d'or        (Luis Buñuel, 1930) Il Bidone        (Federico Fellini, 1955) The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser        (Werner Herzog, 1974) Ivan's Childhood        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1962) Freeze, Die, Come to Life        (Vitali Kanevsky, 1990) Shadows of Our Forgotten Ancestors        (Sergei Parajanov, 1964) M        (Fritz Lang, 1931) Les Quatre Cents Coups        (François Truffaut, 1959) Autumn Sonata        (Ingmar Bergman, 1978) Three Colours: Blue        (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1993) These are the films which I unfortunately had to leave out: Bergman's Cries and Whispers, Knife in the Water by Polanski, The Wind (Sjostrom), A Scene at the Sea (Takeshi Kitano), Jules et Jim (Truffaut), 2001: A Space Odyssey (Kubrick), La Grande Illusion (Renoir), Le Samourai (Melville), Seven Samurai (Kurosawa), Opening Night (Cassavetes), Jean de Florette + Manon des Sources (Claude Berri) and Solaris (Tarkovsky). It was a very hard choice to make. Diolch yn fawr, Cymru am Byth! See also Julien's revised list: Jul–Aug 2002 Julien Humphreys is a 17 year old film lover living in Bangor, Wales. He is studying English, French, Spanish and Welsh at school. Ryan McGinley (in alphabetical order) An Autumn Afternoon        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1962) Mr. Arkadin        (Orson Welles, 1955) Fallen Angels        (Wong Kar-wai, 1995) Flowers of Shanghai        (Hou Hsiao-hsien, 1998) Journal d'un curé de campagne        (Robert Bresson, 1950) Limelight        (Charles Chaplin, 1952) Masculin Féminin        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1966) Ordet        (Carl Dreyer, 1954) Sansho Dayu        (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1954) The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956) Ryan McGinley is an 18 year old film buff living in Victoria B.C. Canada. Gawain McLachlan (in no particular order) Mad Max 2        (George Miller, 1981) Blade Runner        (Ridley Scott, 1982) Apocalypse Now        (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979) Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976) The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly        (Sergio Leone, 1966) Seven Samurai        (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) Das Boot        (Wolfgang Peterson, 1981) Pulp Fiction        (Quentin Tarantino, 1994) A Clockwork Orange        (Stanley Kubrick, 1971) Annie Hall        (Woody Allen, 1977) Gawain McLachlan is the editor/publisher of the internet zine Filmnet. Kim Patterson (in preferential order) 1.  Three Colours: Red        (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1994) 2.  2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) 3.  Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966) 4.  Nosferatu        (F.W. Murnau, 1922) 5.  Once Upon a Time in the West        (Sergio Leone, 1969) 6.  Blood Simple        (Joel Coen, 1983) 7.  La Strada        (Frederico Fellini, 1954) 8.  Picnic At Hanging Rock        (Peter Weir, 1975) 9.  Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976) 10. Dead Man        (Jim Jarmusch, 1995) I've tried to include films chosen on both technical/artistic merit and personal gratification merit. I've also tried really hard to exclude films I know are crap but which I am addicted to. The films chosen demonstrate a deep understanding of the medium, by their creators, as a synthesis of both emotional truth and cinematic veracity (i.e. they work for me!) Kim Patterson teaches Media Studies to Victorian VCE students at Mildura Senior College in far North-West Victoria. He maintains a capsule film review website at www.milsen.vic.edu.au/kdp in between watching anything put in front of him and reading obscure film theories online. Ingo Petzke (first five in preferential order, the rest in constant movement) 1.  Apocalypse Now        (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979) 2.  Andrei Rublev        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1966) 3.  Seven Samurai        (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) 4.  Mare's Tail        (David Larcher, 1969) 5.  Local Hero        (Bill Forsyth, 1982) One, Two, Three        (Billy Wilder, 1961) Walkabout        (Nicolas Roeg, 1971) The Man With a Movie Camera        (Dziga Vertov, 1928) Scenes from a Marriage (the 281 min TV version)        (Ingmar Bergman, 1973) Aguirre: the Wrath of God        (Werner Herzog, 1972) Ingo Petzke is Associate Professor for Screen-Based Media at Bond University Martin Plunkett I've basically decided to stick to one film per director. I'm not sure if these are the greatest films of all time, but they're the ones that have moved me the most, and that have most profoundly affected the way I view the world and the cinema. (in chronological order) Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927)        - Could just as easily have been Tabu. La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939)        - Or Grand Illusion. The Magnificent Ambersons        (Orson Welles, 1942)        - Or Touch of Evil. Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953)        - Or Late Spring. Ugetsu Monogatari         (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1953)        - Or The Loyal 47 Ronin. Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)        - Or Rear Window. Gertrud        (Carl Dreyer, 1964)        - Or The Passion of Joan of Arc. Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966)           - Or A Man Escaped. Barry Lyndon        (Stanley Kubrick, 1975)        - Or Eyes Wide Shut. Flowers of Shanghai        (Hou Hsaio-hsien, 1998)        - Or The Puppetmaster. It's ridiculous how many great filmmakers and films I ended up leaving off this list, including Jean Vigo (L'Atalante), John Ford (The Searchers), Roberto Rossellini (Voyage in Italy), Max Ophuls (The Earrings of Madame de...), Alain Resnais (Last Year at Marienbad), Michelangelo Antonioni (L' Avventura), Jean-Luc Godard (Contempt), Jacques Rivette (Celine and Julie Go Boating), Martin Scorsese (Kundun), and Abbas Kiarostami (The Wind Will Carry Us). Martin Plunkett is a 20-year-old English and Philosophy student currently deciding which college to transfer to next semester from the University of Chicago. He currently lives in New Jersey. Rad Rudd (in preferential order) 1.  Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976) Perhaps apart from the shootout at the film's conclusion, this provides for an accurate portrayal of 'the loner' within moi. 2.  Blade Runner        (Ridley Scott, 1982) The same guy as in the above, really, only played by Harrison Ford. 3.  Star Wars Trilogy        (George Lucas/Irvin Kershner/Richard Marquand, 1977/80/83) I hope that you allow me to include not only these films, but the three together. Lucas' film technology genius creates a fantastic escape, but I don't look to it for referencing personal difficulties. 4.  Fist of Fury (aka The Chinese Connection)        (Lo Wei, 1972) Half-Asian boys growing up in a small Australian country town in the 1980s cannot help but be influenced by this charismatic and cool representation of their 'other half'. 5.  Blow-Up        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1966) Viewed for the first time in 1999, it is secure in this relative film illiterate's memory of the history of film style. By the way, is it the first film to revolve around a clue found in a picture? This plot device is compulsory these days - usually video footage. Perhaps it was a subconscious reference to the power of the now prolific indirect communication of reality. 6.  Police Story 3: SuperCop        (Stanley Tong, 1992) Jackie Chan & Michelle Yeoh are absolutely crazy people. He hung from the ladder from the helicopter as it swooped over the city, and she rode the trail-bike onto the moving cargo train. Such fun. 7.  Hard-Boiled        (John Woo, 1991) John Woo over-the-top, balletic, ballistic brilliance. 8.  La Double vie de Véronique        (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1991) A metaphysical statement that seems to cure ill-feeling by referring to the possibility of another plane of existence. Another escapism piece. 9.  Léolo        (Jean-Claude Lauzon, 1992) A beautifully dysfunctional family. 10. First Blood        (Ted Kotcheff, 1982) The first popular representation of a troubled Vietnam veteran that I saw. Believe me, if it had not been made 'big-budget' then I, in my ignorance as a dumb-ass teenager, would have had no inkling of this war issue. It was swept under the carpet was it not? In closing, each film is really a link to certain other favourite films that I would love to list. Additionally, films seen at the Melbourne Super 8 Film Group monthly open screenings deserve a place here as well, eg, Linou's Dividing Link, Woods' Smak Sux, Mousoulis' Michelangelo's Dream, Kuznir's Revolution. Another time, another list. Rad Rudd is... thinking a little too much about what he is, but generally assumes these various forms – independent filmmaker (Super 8 & video); committee member of the Melbourne Super 8 Film Group Inc.; sometime actor. Importantly, he is a self-proclaimed master of the new 'mish-mash' style (experimental, narrative, neo-narrative, action...) of filmmaking. Max Scheinin (revised list) 1.  Days of Heaven        (Terrence Malick, 1978) 2.  Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) 3.  The Godfather        (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972) 4.  2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) 5.  Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) 6.  Le Mépris        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963) 7.  Some Like It Hot        (Billy Wilder, 1959) 8.  Chinatown        (Roman Polanski, 1974) 9.  Close-Up        (Abbas Kiarostami, 1990) 10. Barton Fink        (Joel Coen, 1991) This list is a bit of an experiment – can a film besides The Godfather, my favourite movie since I was eleven, reside in the No. 1 spot? We'll see how long this ordering of things lasts. In any case, these films represent me, and what I love in art, as much as any ten could, at least at this point in my life. And seeing as my core group of faves has shifted for the first time in ages, I'm going to add that favourite tag I have never included before: this list could change if compiled tomorrow. See also Max's previous lists: June 2000        Dec 2000–Jan 2001 Max Scheinin is a teenage film buff and lover who writes a column on the movies for a local paper, the Santa Cruz Sentinel. Craig Small Over the past couple of years the rise of DVD technology (and the discovery of the Criterion Collection DVDs) has given me the opportunity to discover and enjoy a whole new world of film. Directors like Kurosawa, Kobayashi, Tarkovsky, Sokurov, Parajanov, Kieslowski, and Bava now reside on my DVD rack on equal standing with the Hollywood masters who once dominated the shelf-space. Through studying these films I've learned a few things about myself. I now know that I love films shot in ultra-widescreen (cinemascope, super panavision, etc.). I now know that I love highly stylised films in which great directors show off their grasp of technique (Scorsese, Michael Mann, Powell, Welles, etc.). Lastly, I've learned that I love directors and cinematographers who like to put the camera in motion. (in preferential order) 1.  2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) The perfect film. Not a lot of dialogue and one breathtaking image after another. 2.  Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) Incredible colors, incredible technique and the best score ever written. 3.  Blade Runner - Director's Cut        (Ridley Scott, 1982/1991) The ultimate "style" film. 4.  Raging Bull        (Martin Scorsese, 1980) Martin Scorsese throws restraint out the window and throws his love of cinema and its history directly in our faces. 5.  The Thin Red Line        (Terrence Malick, 1998) The closest anyone has come to the cinematic poetry of Kubrick's 2001 in thirty years. A war movie that's not really about war. 6.  Apocalypse Now        (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979) Another war movie that's not about war. I've heard it described as high opera and that pretty much sums it up. 7.  Black Narcissus        (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1947) Vertigo before Vertigo. Cardiff's cinematography dominates the film. 8.  Odd Man Out        (Carol Reed 1947) That Odd Man Out and Black Narcissus could both come out of England in the same year is staggering. I'm a sucker for cinematic snowfall and Odd Man Out has some of the best. James Mason pulls a great performance from a pretty thankless role. 9.  The Human Condition trilogy        (Masaki Kobayashi, 1959-61) Actually three films but to me it's just one ten hour epic. Another war movie that's not about war. More great snowfall, too! When I finished the trilogy I felt like I'd just been in a car wreck. Stunning. 10. The Trial        (Orson Welles, 1962) The strangest great film ever made. Bravado camerawork and reckless performances make for a film experience that's often bewildering and always exciting. Craig Small is a film fanatic and DVD addict from a small town in Maine, USA. Julia Wilde (in preferential order) 1.  Annie Hall        (Woody Allen, 1977) 2.  Duck Sou