© Senses of Cinema
1999–2006



 

Oct–Dec 2004

 


Florian Bülow

(revised list, in no particular order)

Fury        (Fritz Lang, 1936)
Intimate Confessions of a Chinese Courtesan        (Chor Yuen, 1972)
L'Argent        (Robert Bresson, 1983)
Late Spring        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1949)
Eureka        (Shinji Aoyama, 2000)
Le Signe du lion        (Eric Rohmer, 1959)
Throne of Blood        (Akira Kurosawa, 1957)
M. Butterfly        (David Cronenberg, 1993)
El Espíritu de la colmena        (Victor Erice, 1973)
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre        (Tobe Hooper, 1974)

See also Florian's previous list: May–June 2003

Florian Bülow is 27 years old and is editor of the book review section of German film magazine F.LM.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Fred Camper

(revised list, in preferential order)

1.  The Loyal 47 Ronin        (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1942)
2.  India        (Roberto Rossellini, 1958)
3.  Arabic Series        (Stan Brakhage, 1981)
4.  Red River        (Howard Hawks, 1948)
5.  Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson,1966)
6.  Tabu        (F.W. Murnau, 1930)
7.  Schwechater        (Peter Kubelka, 1958)
8.  Seven Women        (John Ford, 1966)
9.  The Tarnished Angels        (Douglas Sirk, 1957)
10. Bang!        (Robert Breer, 1986)

See also Fred's previous list: Jul–Aug 2000

Fred Camper is a writer and lecturer on film, art, and photography who lives in Chicago. His writing appears regularly in the Chicago Reader.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Steve Collins

There are films that I am in awe of: Welles' Touch of Evil (1958); Fuller's Pickup on South Street (1953); Von Sternberg's Scarlet Empress (1936); Scorsese's Goodfellas (1990), and Anthony Mann's Tin Star (1957), but none have my heart as completely as these ten. I go to these films for nourishment.

(in no particular order)

Bonjour Tristesse        (Otto Preminger, 1958)
History is Made at Night        (Frank Borzage, 1937)
All That Heaven Allows        (Douglas Sirk, 1955)
The Lusty Men        (Nicholas Ray, 1952)
The Awful Truth        (Leo McCarey, 1937)
Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
The Cranes are Flying        (Mikhail Kalatozov, 1957)
Hana-Bi        (Takeshi Kitano, 1997)
French CanCan        (Jean Renoir, 1955)
The Apartment        (Billy Wilder, 1960)

If there were more than ten: The Edge of the World (Michael Powell, 1937); Black Narcissus (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1947); Holiday (George Cukor, 1938); Meet Me in St. Louis (Vincente Minnelli, 1944); The Age of Innocence (Martin Scorsese, 1993); Trouble in Paradise (Ernst Lubitsch, 1932).

Steve Collins is a filmmaker living in Austin, Texas.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


John Davies

(revised list, in preferential order)

1.  Sanshô dayû        (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1954)
2.  Andrei Rublev        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1966)
3.  Paris, Texas        (Wim Wenders, 1984)
4.  Maborosi        (Hirokazu Koreeda, 1995)
5.  L'Avventura        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1960)
6.  Le Rayon vert        (Eric Rohmer, 1986)
7.  Vale Abraão        (Manoel de Oliveira, 1993)
8.  Pather Panchali        (Satyajit Ray, 1955)
9.  Shin Heike Monogatari        (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1955)
10. The Story of the Last Chrysanthemums        (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1939)

This time round I've excluded contenders which are currently in the poll's overall top ten, and which would appear to be in less need of support. So, no Mirror (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974); 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968); Sunrise (F. W. Murnau, 1927); La Règle du jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939), or Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) – which leaves room for three by Mizoguchi, who seems strangely neglected in recent submissions here.

See also John's previous lists: May–June 2002        May–June 2003

John Davies is a 43-year-old from Brecon, Wales, is still a publicist and researcher for the local film society and is now just an occasional writer for the MovieMail world cinema company based in the U.K.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Marcos Ribas de Faria

(revised list, in preferential order)

1.  Jules et Jim        (François Truffaut, 1962)
2.  Sunrise        (F. W. Murnau, 1927)
3.  Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
4.  Le Carrosse d'or        (Jean Renoir, 1952)
5.  The Passenger        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1975)
6.  Singin' in the Rain        (Stanley Donen & Gene Kelly, 1952)
7.  The Leopard        (Luchino Visconti, 1963)
8.  Vivre sa vie        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1962)
9.  The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956)
10. The Empress Yang Kwei Fei        (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1955)

Movies also very well received: Hiroshima mon amour (Alain Resnais, 1959); Viaggio in Italia (Roberto Rossellini, 1953); Tokyo Story; Cries and Whispers (Ingmar Bergman, 1972); Ivan The Terrible (Sergei Eisenstein, 1945 and 1958); Ma nuit chez Maud (Eric Rohmer, 1969); Opening Night (John Cassavetes, 1977); The Godfather Parts I–III (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972–1990); Ordet (Carl Dreyer, 1954), and The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (Vincente Minnelli, 1962). I must add that I haven't repeated directors.

See also Marcos' previous list: Nov 2000

Marcos Ribas de Faria is a Brazilian critic who writes for the website web4fun and was the film critic for the magazines Opinião, Jornal do Brasil, O Jornal, and Última Hora.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Anthony Dolphin

(in preferential order)

1.  A Canterbury Tale        (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1944)
2.  Husbands        (John Cassavetes, 1970)
3.  Lancelot du Lac        (Robert Bresson, 1974)
4.  Short Cuts        (Robert Altman, 1993)
5.  Sanshô dayû        (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1954)
6.  Andrei Rublev        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1966)
7.  Dawn of the Dead        (George A. Romero, 1978)
8.  Safe        (Todd Haynes, 1995)
9.  Pandora's Box        (G.W. Pabst, 1928)
10. The Curse of the Cat People        (Robert Wise & Gunther von Fritsch, 1944)

Always hard to put newer titles in these selections. I hope Takashi Miike's Audition (1999) and Spielberg's A.I. (2001) seem as outstanding as they first appeared in ten or 20 years time. Most painful omissions: Ozu, Dreyer and Hitchcock.

Anthony Dolphin is a writer/musician based in Tokyo, Japan.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Phil Frank

(in preferential order)

1.  Blue Velvet        (David Lynch, 1986)
2.  Winter Light        (Ingmar Bergman, 1963)
3.  The Seventh Continent        (Michael Haneke, 1989)
4.  2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
5.  A Zed and Two Noughts        (Peter Greenaway, 1985)
6.  The Thin Red Line        (Terrence Malick, 1998)
7.  Even Dwarfs Started Small        (Werner Herzog, 1971)
8.  Window, Water, Baby, Moving        (Stan Brakhage, 1959)
9.  Weekend        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1967)
10. Santa Sangre        (Alejandro Jodorowsky, 1989)

Deserving no less love: Il Vangelo secondo Matteo (Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1964); The Last of England (Derek Jarman, 1988); Damnation (Béla Tarr, 1988); Dead Man (Jim Jarmusch, 1995); Visitor Q (Takashi Miike, 2001).

Phil Frank is a 23-year-old writer and Sociology student from Los Angeles.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Jim Gerow

These are some of the films which have overwhelmed me and have burned lasting images in my mind:

(in roughly preferential order)

Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927)
Simply the most beautiful love story ever.

Ordet        (Carl Dreyer, 1954)
A miraculous reconciliation of body and spirit.

The Magnificent Ambersons        (Orson Welles, 1942)
Brilliant long takes suffused with the passing of time, loss and regret.

Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966)
A depiction of the soul through the saintly suffering and grace of a donkey.

Letter from an Unknown Woman        (Max Ophuls, 1948)
Ophuls' gliding camera whirls Joan Fontaine full circle to her inevitably tragic end.

Ugetsu Monogatari        (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1953)
The central ghost story and the transcendent final sequences make this endlessly watchable.

La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939)
Tout le monde a ses raisons.

Psycho        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960)
The master in full command of the audience through a series of memorable set pieces.

L'Eclisse        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1962)
Especially for the amazing seven-minute final sequence in which the urban landscape supplants the characters.

The Long Day Closes        (Terence Davies, 1992)
A childhood memoir whose deliberate pace and formal precision are mesmerising.

A follow-up list might include Tokyo Story; The Scarlet Empress; The Searchers; The Night of the Hunter (Charles Laughton, 1955); Muriel (Alain Resnais, 1963); Ali: Fear Eats the Soul (R.W. Fassbinder, 1973); Written on the Wind (Douglas Sirk, 1956); Days of Heaven (Terrence Malick, 1978); The Palm Beach Story (Preston Sturges, 1942); La Femme infidele (Claude Chabrol, 1969); Vampyr (Dreyer, 1932); Touch of Evil; L'Argent, and Kiss Me Deadly (Robert Aldrich, 1955).

Jim Gerow is a legal assistant who lives in New York and thinks about film approximately 16 hours a day. He has a B.A. in Film and Theatre Studies from Hunter College.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Aaron William Graham

(in no particular order)

Only Angels Have Wings        (Howard Hawks, 1939)
Detour        (Edgar G. Ulmer, 1945)
I Vitelloni        (Federico Fellini, 1953)
Riding Shotgun        (André De Toth, 1954)
Tirez sur le pianiste        (François Truffaut, 1960)
The Wild Angels        (Roger Corman, 1966)
Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid        (Sam Peckinpah, 1973)
Hard Times        (Walter Hill, 1975)
The Killing of a Chinese Bookie        (John Cassavetes, 1976)
They All Laughed        (Peter Bogdanovich, 1981)

Five filmmakers whose body of work is all worthwhile: Samuel Fuller, Alfred Hitchcock, Brian De Palma, Akira Kurosawa and Jean-Pierre Melville.

Aaron William Graham, 20, is an aspiring film-writer/filmmaker who splits his time between Cape Breton, Nova Scotia and Winnipeg, Manitoba.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Daniel Hayes

(in chronologicial order)

Winsor Mccay: Animation Legend        (Winsor Mccay, 1911–1921)
A Page of Madness        (Teinosuke Kinugasa, 1926)
The End of St. Petersburg        (Mikhail Doller & Vsevolod Pudovkin, 1927)
Vida en sombras        (Lorenzo Llobet Gracia, 1952)
Celui qui doit mourir        (Jules Dassin, 1957)
Chimes at Midnight        (Orson Welles, 1966)
Rebellion        (Masaki Kobayashi, 1967)
Red Psalm        (Miklós Jancsó, 1971)
Salò        (Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1975)
L'Argent        (Robert Bresson, 1983)

Daniel: “No Musicals, Documentaries, Westerns, or Tarkovskys?!”
Daniel: “Yes, I know... it's disgraceful. I re-compiled this damned list dozens of times trying to get it right. I ended up trying to find those films that have changed the way I view film as a whole, as opposed to ones that are simply technically perfect (La Grande Illusion [Jean Renoir, 1937], The Story of the Last Chrysanthemums) or deal with subject material that I find intriguing (L'Amore [Roberto Rossellini, 1948], The Travelling Players [Theo Angelopoulos, 1975]), or even accomplish both of these (Ordet). It may seem lacking on paper, but if I ever get to start actually making films, these are the ten that will have impacted upon me more than any others.”

Daniel Hayes is a second year student of Film and Philosophy at the University of King's College and Dalhousie University in Halifax, Nova Scotia.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Jake Hinkson

(revised list, in no particular order, although I notice that the list goes from dark to light. All these movies represent the joy of moviemaking.)

To Live        (Zhang Yimou, 1994)
Zhang's best work to date and the best film of the Chinese new wave.

Three Colours: Blue        (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1993)
I don't believe in “the best film ever made”. But if I had to pick one, this would be it.

Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
Gets better every time you see it.

Chimes at Midnight        (Orson Welles, 1966)
Sad, beautiful and Welles' masterpiece.

Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976)
The best American film of the last 40 years.

Ikiru        (Akira Kurosawa, 1952)
Kurosawa's humanist masterpiece.

L'Atalante        (Jean Vigo, 1934)
Film as poetry. Gritty, sexy and real. And soaringly romantic.

To Have and Have Not        (Howard Hawks, 1944)
Bogart was never better and Hawks' direction was never so light and assured. A pure joy.

Paper Moon        (Peter Bogdanovich, 1973)
Another film bursting with the joy of moviemaking. Funny, sweet and unsentimental.

Manhattan        (Woody Allen, 1979)
Crimes and Misdemeanors is more profound, but this is Allen's ode to New York and to the joy of cinema.

Honorable mentions:

John Ford: The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962) – Ford's best.
Stanley Kubrick: Eyes Wide Shut (1999) – Kubrick's last, best and most underrated.
Gary Cooper: High Noon (Fred Zinnemann, 1952) – Craftsmanship at its best. Cooper rules.
The Movie: Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941) – The best American film until Taxi Driver.
The Epic: The Godfather (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972) – Irresistable, this movie works on every level. Incredible.

See also Jake's previous list: May–June 2003

Jake Hinkson is a cinephile currently enrolled in the Masters of Creative Writing program at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Germán Kijel

(in no particular order)

Back to the Future        (Robert Zemeckis, 1985)
La Cérémonie        (Claude Chabrol, 1995)
Groundhog Day        (Harold Ramis, 1993)
La Jetée        (Chris Marker, 1962)
Nobody Loves Me        (Doris Dörrie, 1994)
Ladri di Biciclette        (Vittorio de Sica, 1948)
Notorious        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1946)
Rashomon        (Akira Kurosawa, 1950)
Le Rayon vert        (Eric Rohmer, 1986)
Oasis        (Lee Chang-Dong, 2002)

I would like to mention two Argentinian films of recent years: Bolivia (Adrián Caetano, 2001) and La ciénaga (Lucrecia Martel, 2001). Both take place in the raw reality of a poor country whose base is corrupted by the absence of honesty and intelligence.

Germán Kijel is a journalist from Argentina, and writes for “El Acomodador de Cine”, a film criticism website.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


John Robert Martin

(revised list, in approximate preferential order)

1.  La Grande Illusion        (Jean Renoir, 1937)
2.  Pierrot le Fou        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1965)
3.  Marnie        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1964)
4.  The Wind        (Victor Sjöstrom, 1928)
5.  L'Atalante        (Jean Vigo, 1934)
6.  The Portrait of a Lady        (Jane Campion, 1996)
7.  Only Angels Have Wings        (Howard Hawks, 1939)
8.  Sherlock, Jr.        (Buster Keaton, 1924)
9.  The Red Shoes        (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1949)
10. Before Night Falls        (Julian Schnabel, 2000)

See also John's previous list: Jul–Aug 2002

John Robert Martin is a student at the University of Chicago.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Mark Richardson

(in no particular order)

The Falls        (Peter Greenaway, 1980)
Gummo        (Harmony Korine, 1997)
Weekend        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1967)
Buffalo 66        (Vincent Gallo, 1998)
Life is Cheap... But Toilet Paper is Expensive        (Wayne Wang, 1989)
The Chelsea Girls        (Andy Warhol, 1966)
Morvern Callar        (Lynne Ramsay, 2002)
Martin        (George A. Romero, 1977)
Slacker        (Richard Linklater, 1991)
Eraserhead        (David Lynch, 1976)

Mark Richardson is an undergraduate in Philosophy at the University of Dundee, Scotland. His articles and short stories have been published in, amongst others, The Film Journal and the Glasgow-based arts magazine, Cutting Teeth.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Jacobo J. Roman

(in random order, except for #1)

1.  Ordet        (Carl Dreyer, 1954)
Throne of Blood        (Akira Kurosawa, 1957)
Barry Lyndon        (Stanley Kubrick, 1975)
Aguirre: The Wrath of God        (Werner Herzog, 1972)
The General        (Buster Keaton/Clyde Bruckman, 1926)
Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927)
The Big City        (Satyajit Ray, 1963)
The Red Shoes        (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1949)
Seppuku        (Masaki Kobayashi, 1962)
La Belle et la bête        (Jean Cocteau, 1946)

One movie per director. MIA's for lack of space: Leone, Visconti, Clouzot, Tarkovsky and Lang. So many things to say about my movies, but others have already done so, much better than I ever could. Why torture fellow readers with smart-arse snappy prose? Ok then: DREYER is the MAN! Falconetti is the BOMB! Julian West, keepin' it REAL! See what I mean?

Jacobo J. Roman is a movie fan in Puerto Rico who wishes for more diversity and less restrictions in film college courses. He also likes to speak and write in the third person, he thinks.

P.S. Did he mention Dreyer was the man?

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Robert Smyth

(in alphabetical order)

Blow-Up        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1966)
The only one of Antonioni's films in which things actually happen, and where terminal longueurs don't eventually possess us with the desire to run from the theatre. And thrilling in the '60s, because it was exactly who we wanted to be.

The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser        (Werner Herzog, 1974)
In which Herzog goes fathoms-deep into the intimate detail of self, to demonstrate that life is viscerally woven from dreams within dreams, and the external world, which he depicts in images of breathless beauty, means nothing.

Fahrenheit 451        (François Truffaut, 1965)
Stunning evocation of an artificial future. Truffaut had difficulties with English (and with Oskar Werner) but the texture, tone and colour of his most undervalued film is unique, and its redemptive denouement grows more salutary by the year.

Jules et Jim        (François Truffaut, 1962)
Unchallengeable as cinema's most lyrical hymn to life, yet in every sunlit frame there lies the terrible transience of love, youth and happiness, and the shadow of decay and death. Truffaut's masterpiece, and the greatest film ever made.

The Ladykillers        (Alexander Mackendrick)
Sublime, acidic fable which proves that there was a reason for Alec Guinness. Every black, disquieting, hilarious moment distils the rare spirit that made Ealing such an enchanted forest in the bleak urban British '50s.

The Man Who Would Be King        (John Huston, 1975)
Kipling's short story (just 30 pages) provides the raw material for one of the few films worthy of the word epic. Huston, Connery and Caine prove that testosterone has occasionally wrought true wonders in art.

To Kill a Mockingbird        (Robert Mulligan, 1962)
Wonderfully evocative, touching and – no other word for it – decent. Even the occasional flirtation with base melodrama does no damage to its resilient spirit. One of the rare instances of a film achieving equality with its literary source.

Wild Strawberries        (Ingmar Bergman, 1957)
Magisterial. As though in spite of himself, Bergman allows sentiment to corrode his studied and distant view of life. Just as his aged protagonist discovers that a life of seeming achievement may in fact be fatally chimerical and empty.

Withnail and I        (Bruce Robinson, 1986)
Comedy sown thick with the seeds of tragedy – elegiac, scatological and at its ending profoundly uplifting and depressing at the same time. Uncannily true to the spirit of the times it portrays, and very, very funny.

And the five that didn't quite make the list: Kes (Ken Loach, 1969), Night of the Hunter, La Règle du jeu, The Seventh Seal (Ingmar Bergman, 1957) and La Nuit de Varennes (Ettore Scola, 1982).

See also Robert's revised list: Oct–Dec 2006

Robert Smyth wrote for Nation Review and other newspapers in the 1970s and '80s, predominantly on rock music and pop culture. He declined Richard Neville's invitation to write for the short-lived The Living Daylights magazine, after which Neville refused to speak to him (an unlooked-for bonus). In 1974 he hitch-hiked from Melbourne to Sydney to see a screening of Jules and Jim at Sydney University, leaving at dawn and arriving at 7.45 pm, with 15 minutes to spare.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Finn Szumlas

(revised list, in preferential order)

1.  The Thin Red Line        (Terrence Malick, 1998)
2.  Stalker        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979)
3.  Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore        (Martin Scorsese, 1974)
4.  The Cranes are Flying        (Mikhail Kalatozov, 1957)

Then in chronological order:

Le Mépris        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963)
Il Deserto Rosso        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1964)
Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966)
Don't Look Now        (Nicolas Roeg, 1973)
Annie Hall        (Woody Allen, 1977)
Mauvais Sang        (Leos Carax, 1986)

This new list is rather modern and completely Atlantic, but simply represents an attempt to come to some “true favorites” apart from any “representational” considerations. Very personal then once again, and I will make no excuses.

See also Finn's previous list: Apr–May 2001

Finn Szumlas is currently in the process of completing his Film Studies degree at the University of Amsterdam. He is writing his thesis on the relationships between cinema and thought from the points of view of Deleuze, Heidegger and Terrence Malick's The Thin Red Line.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Rüdiger Tomczak

(in no particular order)

Early Summer        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1951)
Having to choose between a dozen masterpieces by Ozu, I will opt to mention this one.

The River        (Jean Renoir, 1951)
For mine, Renoir's most beautiful film, and in all its mood probably the only real Asian film ever made by a European.

The Puppetmaster        (Hou Hsiao-hsien, 1993)
Choosing between Hou's masterpieces for me means to choose the most groundbreaking one.

The Cloud-Capped Star        (Ritwik Ghatak, 1960)
Part 1 of his refugee-trilogy dealing with the partition of Bengal.

Mr Thankyou        (Hiroshi Shimizu)
Shimizu is, with Ozu, probably one of the greatest Japanese directors, and this one I like to claim as the most beautiful road movie ever made.

The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956)
Besides its cinematic quality it also has the most precise analysis of racism I've ever seen in American cinema.

Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
High and Low        (Akira Kurosawa, 1963)

People in Sheffield        (Peter Nestler, 1965)
The most touching documentary I have ever seen, by one of the greatest documentary filmmakers.

Nostalgia for the Countryside        (Nhat Minh Dang, 1995)
Last but not least, the masterpiece of Vietnamese cinema.

Since 1995 Rüdiger Tomczak has published shomingeki, a film magazine which is a homage to the Japanese everyday realism of the '30s, and especially to one of its masters, Yasujiro Ozu.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Brian Twomey

Here are the movies I love and what was influencing me on my first viewing.

(in no particular order)

Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia        (Sam Peckinpah, 1974)
tequila and grape soda, 70 mg of adderall

Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
six fresh psilocybin mushrooms, a deep emotional attachment to Kim Novak's breasts

Fires on the Plain        (Kon Ichikawa, 1959)
vodka, black coffee, Zoloft booster

El Topo        (Alejandro Jodorowsky, 1971)
a chorizo torta with a hefty dose of MSG

The Destroying Angel        (Peter De Rome, 1976)
the lingering dissociative effects of a week-long ketamine binge

Driller Killer        (Abel Ferrara, 1979)
opium, food poisoning from the guacamole burger I ate the hour before

Assault on Precinct 13        (John Carpenter, 1976)
one super joint, cocaine

The Testament of Dr. Mabuse        (Fritz Lang, 1932)
cough syrup, hypnosis

Beyond the Valley of the Dolls        (Russ Meyer, 1970)
ecstasy, wine, GBH

Les Yeux sans visage        (Georges Franju, 1959)
LSD and pernod

There will be so many good movies I will never see, let alone make, before I die. Whatever that means. I've never seen The Bicycle Thief, Bob le Flambeur, Andrei Rublev, Casablanca, Birth of a Nation, New York Minute...

Brian Twomey lives in South El Monte, CA. He took a film class once and it was very interesting. He wants to make a movie of a screenplay he wrote two years ago, but he doesn't know the first thing about filmmaking. Ticket prices are too high and he has to drive a half hour to get to the nearest decent video store. Are there any movies about Syd Barrett or Roky Erikson?

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Godfrey D. Vereaux

(in preferential order)

1.  Topsy-Turvy        (Mike Leigh, 1999)
2.  I Walked with a Zombie        (Jacques Tourneur, 1943)
3.  This is Spinal Tap        (Rob Reiner, 1983)
4.  Broken Blossoms        (D.W. Griffith, 1919)
5.  Hi, Mom!        (Brian De Palma, 1970)
6.  Russian Ark        (Aleksandr Sokurov, 2002)
7.  Happy Together        (Wong Kar-wai, 1997)
8.  Requiem for a Dream        (Darren Aronofsky, 2000)
9.  Les Enfants du Paradis        (Marcel Carné, 1945)
10. Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941)

Godfrey D. Vereaux is a Baltimore educator and independent filmmaker.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Santiago E. Mohar Volkow

(in no particular order)

Dead Man        (Jim Jarmusch, 1995)
Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953)
Pulp Fiction        (Quentin Tarantino, 1994)
The Royal Tenenbaums        (Wes Anderson, 2001)
A Clockwork Orange        (Stanley Kubrick, 1971)
Los Olvidados        (Luis Buñuel, 1950)
Days of Heaven        (Terrence Malick, 1978)
Stalker        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979)
Raging Bull        (Martin Scorsese, 1980)
Apocalypse Now        (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979)

Other films I would like to mention: A Bout de Souffle (Jean-Luc Godard, 1959); Paris, Texas; Fight Club (David Fincher, 1999); Sunrise, and of course Vertigo.

Santiago E. Mohar Volkow is a devoted cinephile and artist. He writes on cinema for the magazine ¡BU! in Mexico.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


Turkka Ylinen

(in chronological order)

Seven Samurai        (Akira Kurosawa, 1954)
Le Mépris        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963)
2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976)
Once Upon a Time in America        (Sergio Leone, 1984)
Hannah and Her Sisters        (Woody Allen, 1986)
Bad Lieutenant        (Abel Ferrara, 1992)
Three Colours: Blue        (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1993)
Eternity and a Day        (Theo Angelopoulos, 1998)
Mulholland Drive        (David Lynch, 2001)

Five directors who should be present on the list: Wong Kar-Wai, Claude Sautet, Michelangelo Antonioni, Michael Powell and Quentin Tarantino.

Turkka Ylinen studies communication at the University of Helsinki and works as a freelance writer.

back to lists, Oct-Dec 2004


TALLY at October–December 2004,
after 451 original lists, 68 revised lists, and 4 deleted lists:

By film:

Tokyo Story
Tokyo Story
 1.
 2.
 3.
 4.
 5.

 7.

 9.
10.
Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941)
La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939)
Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927)
Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953)
Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976)
       (Federico Fellini, 1963)
Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966)
The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956)
89
52
49
39
35
35
33
33
31
30

By director:

to Dan Harper's 'Great Directors' profile of Akira Kurosawa
Akira Kurosawa
 1.
 2.
 3.
 4.
 5.
 6.
 7.
 8.
 9.
10.
Alfred Hitchcock
Jean-Luc Godard
Orson Welles
Stanley Kubrick
Robert Bresson
Ingmar Bergman
Andrei Tarkovsky
Martin Scorsese
Akira Kurosawa
Carl Dreyer
163
113
108
106
  94
  88
  87
  86
  79
  75

  back to the top of the page


 

Jul–Sept 2004

 


Frank Blaakmeer

(in random order)

Journal d'un curé de campagne        (Robert Bresson, 1950)
The ultimate “religious movie”, being also perhaps the best literary adaptation ever made and a showcase of Bresson's minimalism.

Mirror        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974)
Or how the strictly personal can be sheer poetry. A very “difficult” film which is at the same time as transparent as can be, as long as you don't search for meaning.

L'Albero Degli Zoccoli        (Ermanno Olmi, 1978)
Poetry once again. A breath of sheer humanism.

The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956)
I hate to admit that I love John Wayne, but that is not the main point. The first and final scenes speak volumes.

Le Samourai        (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1967)
Never before have we been inside a mind in like fashion, from a distance so near.

Il Grido        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1957)
The main themes of the famous trilogy which was to come are there, only better.

Winter Light        (Ingmar Bergman, 1963)
Inside minds once again. Mental turmoil in a tranquil style.

'Round Midnight        (Bertrand Tavernier, 1986)
Even though I'm not a sucker for jazz. Leaves moving in the wind outside a window. We actually see them!

El Sur        (Víctor Erice, 1983)
Sheer mystery with a perfectly timed ending.

Meet Me in St. Louis        (Vincente Minnelli, 1944)
Heart-warming song and dance, and Judy Garland... oh boy!

Directors who had to be left out: Resnais, Vigo, Renoir, Sirk, Kazan, Ozu (what? Ozu not in the list? shame on me!), Dreyer, Visconti, etc. etc.

Frank Blaakmeer lives in the Netherlands, and has had a keen interest in cinema since he was 14 (1974). He wrote a Masters thesis on Tarkovsky's Stalker and wrote a few hundred reviews for the University Newspaper of the State University of Groningen. That was some time ago, but he still occasionally does some writing on film theory, all published in The Netherlands.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Ryan Canlas

(in alphabetical order)

Dog Star Man        (Stan Brakhage, 1962–64)
Hour of the Furnaces        (Fernando Solanas & Octavio Getino, 1968)
The Man with a Movie Camera        (Dziga Vertov, 1928)
Manila by Night        (Ishmael Bernal, 1980)
Les Parapluies de Cherbourg        (Jacques Demy, 1964)
Pather Panchali        (Satyajit Ray, 1955)
Pyaasa        (Guru Dutt, 1957)
La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939)
Salò        (Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1975)
The Travelling Players        (Theo Angelopoulos, 1975)

Other films I'd like to mention: La Battaglia di Algeri (Gillo Pontecorvo, 1965); Ivan the Terrible, Parts I & II (Sergei Eisenstein, 1945 and 1958); Lucía (Humberto Solás, 1968); 2 ou 3 choses que je sais d'elle (Jean-Luc Godard, 1966); Wavelength (Michael Snow, 1966–7).

Ryan Canlas is a graduate student in Cornell University's English Department.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Surajit Chakravarty

It would be torture to try and rank these.

(in no particular order)

The Apu Trilogy        (Satyajit Ray, 1955–59)
Do Bigha Zamin        (Bimal Roy, 1953)
Ladri di Biciclette        (Vittorio de Sica, 1948)
White Balloon        (Jafar Panahi, 1995)
The Son        (Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, 2002)
Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953)
Maborosi        (Hirokazu Koreeda, 1995)
In the Mood for Love        (Wong Kar-wai, 2000)
Chungking Express        (Wong Kar-wai, 1994)
Raise the Red Lantern        (Zhang Yimou, 1991)

My list includes the Apu Trilogy and I suppose that makes it a top 12. This list is very personal. Classics such as , Wild Strawberries and Citizen Kane might be conspicuous by their absence, but then what would be the point if everyone listed the same films. The films listed are those that have most inspired the love of cinema in me.

Surajit Chakravarty is a graduate student at the University of Southern California (not at the Cinema School though), and would trade a place in heaven for a chance to meet Maggie Cheung (Man-Yuk).

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Stephen Cone

(in preferential order)

1.  Field of Dreams        (Phil Alden Robinson, 1989)
2.  Days of Heaven        (Terrence Malick, 1978)
3.  The Last Picture Show        (Peter Bogdanovich, 1971)
4.  A.I. Artificial Intelligence        (Steven Spielberg, 2001)
5.  Jules et Jim        (François Truffaut, 1962)
6.  The Sweet Hereafter        (Atom Egoyan, 1997)
7.  Le Mépris        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963)
8.  Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953)
9.  Autumn Sonata        (Ingmar Begrman, 1978)
10. Close-Up        (Abbas Kiarostami, 1989)

In a different place and state of mind, my list could just as well have included Fargo (Joel Coen, 1995), Barry Lyndon (Stanley Kubrick, 1975), The Long Day Closes (Terence Davies, 1992), Mulholland Drive (David Lynch, 2001) or I Was Born, But... (Yasujiro Ozu, 1932).

Stephen Cone is a 23 year old playwright/actor/aspiring filmmaker currently spending time in Charleston, SC before relocating to Chicago later in the year. He holds a BA in Theatre from the University of South Carolina.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Laurent Courtin

(first is my favourite film, others are in chronological order)

The Innocents        (Jack Clayton, 1961)
City Lights        (Charles Chaplin, 1931)
Notorious        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1946)
Ladri di Biciclette        (Vittorio de Sica, 1948)
Ikiru        (Akira Kurosawa, 1952)
El        (Luis Buñuel, 1952)
The Human Condition        (Masaki Kobayashi, 1959–61)
Repulsion        (Roman Polanski, 1965)
Jin-Roh        (Hiroyuki Okiura, 1998)
Eureka        (Shinji Aoyama, 2000)

Comments: I preferred to limit myself to one per director, or else it would have been full of Kurosawa, Chaplin, Hitchcock and Buñuel films. There are so many movies and directors left to mention (Godard, Bergman, Antonioni...), it was pretty difficult to make a choice. As a Japanese animation fan, I had to put one in my list, Jin-Roh, the only anime I've seen that made me forget I wasn't watching “real” actors.

Laurent Courtin is a French ex-cine-club member who's working on a screenplay and should direct a short movie soon. He's a great fan of Japanese cinema.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Joe Friesen

Well, a year has gone by, time to reappraise my tastes with another wacky Top Ten list.

(revised list, in chronological order)

Duck Soup        (Leo McCarey, 1933)
Ordet        (Carl Dreyer, 1954)
The Killing        (Stanley Kubrick, 1956)
Mon Oncle        (Jacques Tati, 1958)
Touch of Evil        (Orson Welles, 1958)
The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance        (John Ford, 1962)
Opening Night        (John Cassavetes, 1977)
Stalker        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979)
Videodrome        (David Cronenberg, 1982)
The Wind Will Carry Us        (Abbas Kiarostami, 1999)

I don't know about everyone else, but I had a heck of a lot of fun this past year developing my cinephilia. I discovered the work of three wonderful American independents, Stan Brakhage, Jim Jarmusch and John Cassavetes. I just barely had to squeeze out Jarmusch's Dead Man (1995), and Cassavetes has three or four other films either on or near the same level as Opening Night. Then there's my appreciation for old favourites like Orson Welles (the original American independent!) and John Ford. I feel like a bit of a heel for not including anything from the silent era (La Passion de Jeanne D'Arc, Sunrise and anything and everything Chaplin all spring to mind) or any musicals (like Singin' in the Rain). The restrictiveness of a “Top Ten” list means Mon Oncle and Duck Soup will have to do for now.

See also Joe's previous list: Mar–Apr 2003

Joe Friesen is keepin' it real at Portland State University.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Greg Giles

(in no particular order)

Twentieth Century        (Howard Hawks, 1934)
Sand from the holy land. Slews of myrmidons. 17 shades of lavender.

The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp        (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1943)
No finer Technicolor movie.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre        (Tobe Hooper, 1974)
Look what your brother did to the door.

Stranger Than Paradise        (Jim Jarmusch, 1984)
Screamin' Jay Hawkins is a wild man.

Les Enfants du Paradis        (Marcel Carné, 1945)
Vivent les Funambules!

Decasia        (Bill Morrison, 2002)
The ultimate readymade and the best soundtrack for an “experimental” since Max Butting's score to Walter Ruttman's Opus 1 (1921).

Woman of the Dunes        (Hiroshi Teshigahara, 1964)
The ultimate microcosm/pit of hell/sexual fantasy/study of sand.

L'eclipse du soleil en pleine lune        (Georges Méliès, 1907)
Several minutes of early, cosmic homoeroticism and cuckoldry.

The Invisible Man        (James Whale, 1933)
You always were a dirty little coward, Kemp.

Moonlighting        (Jerzy Skolimowski, 1982)
Jeremy Irons mooning over a lost wife in a broken television set, and the shopping cart as apocalypse.

Greg Giles is an American musician in a band called “20 Minute Loop” who slinks home late at night to write about movies.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Chiranjit Goswami

(in alphabetical order)

        (Federico Fellini, 1963)
Goodfellas        (Martin Scorsese, 1990)
In the Mood for Love        (Wong Kar-wai, 2000)
Pierrot le Fou        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1965)
Pulp Fiction        (Quentin Tarantino, 1994)
La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939)
Sullivan's Travels        (Preston Sturges, 1942)
Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976)
Touch of Evil        (Orson Welles, 1958)
Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)

Special mentions – five films: The Godfather II (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974); Memento (Christopher Nolan, 2000); Persona (Ingmar Bergman, 1966); Platoon (Oliver Stone, 1986); Sunrise (F.W. Murnau, 1927). Five filmmakers: Wes Anderson; David Fincher; Samuel Fuller; Stanley Kubrick; Alain Resnais.

This is a list of my favourite films, because I doubt I am able to adequately state with any degree of certainty what the “best” films ever created are. A list of films I feel display great filmmaking may have included a few alternative choices (Raging Bull, 2 ou 3 choses que je sais d'elle, Battleship Potemkin, etc.), but I believe these types of decisions regarding art should remain somewhat subjective. Admittedly, I broke the one-film-per-director convention in order to emphasise my personal interests. As well, I think it tragic that Citizen Kane is despised by many, simply because it has long established itself as a pinnacle in some distinguished circles.

Chiranjit Goswami lives in Winnipeg, Canada and hopes to retain his enthusiasm, further his knowledge, and mature his taste regarding film as he grows older.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Anton Ivin

(in no particular order)

Hana-Bi        (Takeshi Kitano, 1997)
The most paradoxical film in history: it succeeds both as a dramatic thriller with twists and gore as well as a stunning parable of human's life fragility.

La Notte        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1961)
Antonioni's most passionate work of art thanks to the best duet of actors of all time – Marcello Mastroianni and Jeanne Moreau.

Dancer in the Dark        (Lars von Trier, 2000)
The most musical of all dramas and the most tragical of all musicals, this film hits with the mindblowing power of the director's talent.

Andrei Rublev        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1966)
The only historical film that manages equally to succeed in the reconstruction of medieval spirit and in showing the glaring violence of one man's life with such poetic vision.

Ugetsu Monogatari        (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1953)
Jules et Jim        (François Truffaut, 1962)
Woman of the Dunes        (Hiroshi Teshigahara, 1964)
The Wind Will Carry Us        (Abbas Kiarostami, 1999)
Werckmeister Harmonies        (Béla Tarr, 2000)
Suspiria        (Dario Argento, 1976)

Anton Ivin studies Japanese culture at the State University of Saint-Petersburg, Russia.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Elric Kane

(revised list, in no particular order)

La Passion de Jeanne D'Arc        (Carl Dreyer, 1928)
Masters the language of cinema so early, and influenced so many.

Onibaba        (Kaneto Shindô, 1964)
One of the most exciting films about the basic almost savage need for sex.

Pickup on South Street        (Samuel Fuller, 1953)
Precursor to Bresson's Pickpocket is a brilliant character study of underworld life.

Scenes from a Marriage        (Ingmar Bergman, 1973)
More believable moments of connection to love than one can imagine.

The Unknown        (Tod Browning, 1927)
Lon Chaney and Browning's best collaboration is grotesque perfection.

Mes petites amoureuses        (Jean Eustache, 1974)
(My Little Love Affairs) – less seen than La Maman et la putain but an equally powerful film, exploring a young boy's emotional journey through the girls he desires.

Playtime        (Jacques Tati, 1967)
Absolute virtuoso. Tati land is a strange vision and wonderfully human.

Manji        (Yasuzo Masumura, 1964)
Bizarre love triangle, hypnotic and erotic.

Katzelmacher        (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1969)
One of his first films and still fairly “stagey” but the deadpan humor and wasted lives sing.

The Night of the Hunter        (Charles Laughton, 1955)
I can't keep this off my lists. Perfect expressionism.

I feel optimistic about the high level of world cinema, which is especially important while the Hollywood cookie-cutter is churning out glorified video game “films”. A few works that have impressed me of late: Werckmeister Harmonies (Béla Tarr, 2000); Turning Gate (Hong Sang-Soo, 2002); Dog Days (Ulrich Seidl, 2000); Songs from the Second Floor (Roy Andersson, 2000), and the brilliant Uzak (Nuri Bilge Ceylan, 2003).

See also Elric's previous lists: Sept–Oct 2001        Jul–Aug 2002

Elric Kane is a Wellington filmmaker currently studying in the small southern town of Savannah, Georgia towards his MFA in filmmaking. Email: elkane20@scad.student.edu.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Ken Krimstein

(in no particular order, with no particular degree of thinking)

Les Vacances de M. Hulot        (Jacques Tati, 1953)
Mostly for the thumping of the spring at the door. Next, for all the sounds. Next, for all the music. Then for all the visuals. Then for the scents – can't you smell the seashore?

Woman in the Window        (Fritz Lang, 1944)
A nightmare made real. This is not a representation of any-thing – it is some-thing.

The Wizard of Oz        (Victor Fleming, 1939)
Due to my kids I've seen it literally hundreds of times. It does get better every time.

Aguirre: The Wrath of God        (Werner Herzog, 1972)
The past made present. The most novelistic film I can imagine.

La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939)
Tough to pick any of his films over any other – but his performance, the mist, and the robot automaton scene win this one for me. Although The River (1951) and French CanCan (1955) come close.

Dr. Strangelove        (Stanley Kubrick, 1963)
It just don't get any blacker – or any funnier.

Only Angels Have Wings        (Howard Hawks, 1939)
The romantic/heroic thriller that puts people first.

A Hard Day's Night        (Richard Lester, 1964)
The performances of the century.

Letter from an Unknown Woman        (Max Ophuls, 1948)
True tragedy – as sad as love can be.

The Navigator        (Buster Keaton & Donald Crisp, 1924)
The most incredible succession of sight gags – and are there any other kind? – ever. Amazing that one brain could come up with all that in one lifetime, much less in one movie.

Ken Krimstein is a writer living in New York. Find out more at www.kenkrimstein.com.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Tony Larder

(in no particular order)

Rear Window        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1954)
Hitchcock deserves a Top Ten of his own...

The Company of Wolves        (Neil Jordan, 1984)
La Belle Noiseuse        (Jacques Rivette, 1991)
Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me        (David Lynch, 1992)
Straw Dogs        (Sam Peckinpah, 1971)
A Nightmare on Elm Street        (Wes Craven, 1984)
Star 80        (Bob Fosse, 1983)
Modern Times        (Charles Chaplin, 1936)
Ms .45        (Abel Ferrara, 1981)
Playtime        (Jacques Tati, 1967)

Tony Larder is a filmmaker and the Acting Director of Film Studies at the University of New Brunswick.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Kenneth Laux

(in no particular order)

The Exterminating Angel        (Luis Buñuel, 1962)
A cosmic, surreal belly-laugh, allegorically skewering Franco's Spain.

Celine et Julie Vont en Bateau        (Jacques Rivette, 1974)
Through the Looking Glass, to...a writer's workshop!!

Dr. Strangelove        (Stanley Kubrick, 1963)
A bold parody of our MADness made for the best black comedy ever.

Equus        (Sidney Lumet, 1977)
Superb acting from Richard Burton and Joan Plowright in a much-overlooked psychodrama/mystery.

Groundhog Day        (Harold Ramis, 1993)
Look beyond the Bill Murray humour for a meditation on the infinite and a profoundly optimistic view of man's perfectability.

Lone Star        (John Sayles, 1996)
An elliptical inquiry into the illusion of boundaries, and the role and influence of history, from a master storyteller.

Rashomon        (Akira Kurosawa, 1950)
It's precisely what matters to us most that we will twist and distort in the retelling.

Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927)
Perhaps the most perfect cinematic expression of emotional purity.

Woman of the Dunes        (Hiroshi Teshigahara, 1964)
In the end, dull human routine takes hold – as relentless as an encroaching sand dune.

The Dreamlife of Angels        (Erick Zonca, 1998)
Utterly believable, utterly heartbreaking. Some dreams are life-affirming; others can be lethal.

On another day of the week, in another mood or frame of mind, I would include something by Ozu, Kieslowski, Chabrol, de Sica, Weir, Bergman, Rohmer, Bresson and several others.

Kenneth Laux is a cinephile and student of language, history and philosophy living in rural Indiana.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Mikhail Loskutnikov

(in preferential order)

1.          (Federico Fellini, 1963)
An example of perfect filmmaking. The only film to picture dreams and the process of creation so magically.

2.  Andrei Rublev        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1966)
The spiritual depth of this poetic masterpiece is perhaps the greatest in the art of the 20th century.

3.  Mirror        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974)
Great poetry and the best capturing of nature in the history of filmmaking.

4.  La Dolce Vita        (Federico Fellini, 1960)
Life as it is. Funny, existential and epic (!) story not only about Roma...

5.  Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941)
Maybe the greatest STORY in the history of cinema. Breathtaking, moving and groundbreaking!

6.  Color of Pomegranates        (Sergei Parajanov, 1969)
One of the most complex films in history, but very magical, attractive and enigmatic. An example of cinema as a great art.

7.  Wild Strawberries        (Ingmar Bergman, 1957)
Bergman at his best. It was Bergman who discovered that directing is magic.

8.  Journal d'un curé de campagne        (Robert Bresson, 1950)
Bresson's breakthrough. Pure art. One of the most daring films of all time. A powerful, complex exploration of faith.

9.  Fanny and Alexander        (Ingmar Bergman, 1982)
“Distillation of Bergman”. The greatest epic drama in history.

10. Pather Panchali        (Satyajit Ray, 1955)
An exquisite masterpiece which is unfortunately very underrated. Few films picture Life and Death so deeply. Everything is perfect: cinematography, editing, perfomance and poetic rhythm...

Such lists are often made according to the rule “one director: one film”. For me, it's impossible, because of my favour of Fellini and Tarkovsky. I'd like to mention also one of the most influential of all films, Battleship Potemkin (Sergei Eisenstein, 1925); the genre-defining surrealist masterpiece L'Âge d'or (Luis Buñuel, 1930); Nostalghia (Andrey Tarkovsky, 1983); Le Notti di Cabiria (Federico Fellini, 1957), and the greatest ever documentary, The Man with a Movie Camera (Dziga Vertov, 1928).

Mikhail Loskutnikov is a 21 year old film lover from Russia and a collaborator in the Museum of Cinema in Moscow.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Royce Ng

(in no particular order)

Baisers volés        (François Truffaut, 1968)
Truffaut's best film.

Un Coeur en hiver        (Claude Sautet, 1992)
A truly emotionally exhausting film.

Singin' in the Rain        (Stanley Donen & Gene Kelly, 1952)
Kelly's “Singin' in the Rain” routine is probably the most joyous and ecstatic thing ever committed to film.

Conte d'été        (Eric Rohmer, 1996)
His films fulfil all my fantasies of bourgeois sophistication.

Larks on a String        (Jirí Menzel, 1969)
For the scene in which the male and female prisoners stand warming themselves around a fire in the rain.

Le Cercle rouge        (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1970)
1) The opening shot of a traffic light turning red. 2) Delon and Volonte creeping across the rooftops of Paris at night. 3) The closing shot of Bourvil.

Wild Strawberries        (Ingmar Bergman, 1957)
For the devastating scene in which a husband and wife sit in their car quietly arguing as the rain beats against the windscreen.

Days of Being Wild        (Wong Kar-wai, 1991)
This film has more substance and just as much style as its sequel, In the Mood for Love, and is in my estimation Wong's best film.

This Happy Breed        (David Lean, 1944)
The scene in which the camera lingers on an empty room, as the daughter goes to tell her parents that their son has been killed, has as much pathos as anything in cinema.

The Convent        (Manoel de Oliveira, 1995)
Equal parts mystifying, terrifying and sublime.

Royce Ng is a student of Art History at the University of Melbourne who plays in an Elvis cover band called “Paradise Hawaiian Style”.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Ali Shojaee

(in no particular order)

Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976)
Stalker        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979)
Seven Samurai        (Akira Kurosawa, 1954)
Ladri di Biciclette        (Vittorio de Sica, 1948)
Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
Annie Hall        (Woody Allen, 1977)
2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
Battleship Potemkin        (Sergei Eisenstein, 1925)
L'Argent        (Robert Bresson, 1983)
The Last Laugh        (F.W. Murnau, 1925)

I also can't resist naming some other lovely movies that are equal to my top ten: Three Colors Trilogy, Scarface (De Palma), Rosemary's Baby, Edward Scissorhands and Spirited Away.

Ali Shojaee, 21, lives in Iran, and has been a movie lover since 2000.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Michael Smith

For the sake of diversity, I'm limiting myself to one film per director. (Otherwise Bresson, Dreyer and Godard would occupy most of the slots.)

(in preferential order)

1.  A Brighter Summer Day        (Edward Yang, 1991)
2.  L'Argent        (Robert Bresson, 1983)
3.  Gertrud        (Carl Dreyer, 1964)
4.  Le Mépris        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963)
5.  Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953)
6.  Andrei Rublev        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1966)
7.  Ashes of Time        (Wong Kar-wai, 1994)
8.  Les Vampires        (Louis Feuillade, 1915)
9.  Masked and Anonymous        (Larry Charles, 2003)
10. Viaggio in Italia        (Roberto Rossellini, 1953)

Michael Smith is a 28 year old independent filmmaker. He received a BA from Columbia College in Chicago and an MA from Humboldt State University in Arcata, California.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


John Steinle

As a historian who runs a museum, my choices will be a bit old-fashioned. No Tarantino or Oliver Stone flicks here; sorry! I tend to rate movies according to how they may have moved the perception of the art form forward in some way. So here goes the list, off the top of my head while bored to tears at work, and in no particular order:

Intolerance        (D.W. Griffith, 1916)
In its scope and sweep of imagination and vision for humanity, this film is definitely number one of all time (so far)!

Greed        (Erich von Stroheim, 1925)
Amid the fluff of 1920s American film, von Stroheim dared to tell a grim story of revenge and death. Not 20 or 30, but 100 years ahead of its time!

Metropolis        (Fritz Lang, 1926)
The first great sci-fi film is a stark vision of the future, with the most beautiful female robot ever!

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre        (John Huston, 1948)
Walter Huston's performance alone would make this one of the greatest films! And how about Bogie as the hapless Fred C. Dobbs?

The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956)
Will anyone ever make a better Western than this one? “That'll be the day!”

The Bank Dick        (Edward F. Cline, 1940)
Maybe the funniest movie ever made! Prepare to fall out of your chair as W.C. Fields talks about Eppingham Huffnagel, his uncle who was a balloon ascentionist...

Rear Window        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1954)
Hitch at the top of his form, with the great Jimmy Stewart and the unbelievably beautiful Grace Kelly... how can you beat this one?

Rashomon        (Akira Kurosawa, 1950)
Moving, compassionate, exciting, enigmatic, fascinating... HAS to be in the top ten of all time!

Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941)
Welles really delivered the goods with this one. A cliche to say that's it's among the best? Maybe, but it's a truthful one. Welles moved the art of the movies ahead a long way with his first film(!)

Modern Times        (Charles Chaplin, 1936)
Charlie's immortal Tramp meets and beats the soullessness of industrial life!

So many others I want to include! How about Funny Face (Stanley Donen, 1957) – Audrey Hepburn & Fred Astaire, in Paris? Or Dinner at Eight (George Cukor, 1933), with Harlow, Beery, Marie Dressler, and especially the great John Barrymore, at the top of their respective forms? How Green Was My Valley (John Ford, 1941) – the greatest tearjerker of all time? Or Camille (George Cukor, 1936), with Garbo in the role she was born to play? Or The Ox-Bow Incident (William A. Wellman, 1943), with unbelievably good direction from Wellman and a matching performace from Fonda? Guess I'd better give up and leave the top ten to be scrutinised.

2nd greatest director: John Ford. The poetry of the movies was never better expressed than by the drunken old Irishman. Put the list together: The Iron Horse, Stagecoach, How Green Was My Valley, The Grapes of Wrath, They Were Expendable, She Wore A Yellow Ribbon, My Darling Clementine, The Quiet Man, The Searchers, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance... and all the others. This man created a world in itself through his movies.

Greatest director: D.W. Griffith. He created the world of the movies that we know.

John Steinle is a museum director in Colorado. He has been fascinated with the movies ever since he got so excited at a screening of Moby Dick when he was six years old that he got sick! He has appeared in many film and video documentaries for the National Park Service and other agencies.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


James Sturch

(in no particular order)

The Bad News Bears        (Michael Ritchie, 1976)
A great film of the '70s even if you don't like baseball. A classic.

Giant        (George Stevens, 1956)
Epic storytelling in Texas from the music, story, acting, and Jett Rink!

Cet obscur objet du désir        (Luis Buñuel, 1977)
Buñuel, the genius, used three actresses by the time he finished his last film. Brilliant.

Mr. Klein        (Joseph Losey, 1976)
I cannot believe this was made in 1976! The look is exquisite. Strange Kafka-like study of identity. Losey put all the greatest artists together for this one. Check out his Servant too!

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre        (John Huston, 1948)
Huston was probably the most diverse director. This was near perfect filmmaking.

Saturday Night Fever        (John Badham, 1977)
Forget about the disco, the character study and Travolta's performance are remarkable.

Kagemusha        (Akira Kurosawa, 1980)
How old was Kurosawa when he made this? Another study on identity, in epic verse.

Wings of Desire        (Wim Wenders, 1987)
Lyrical, like a poem. Beautiful like light of a painting. A masterpiece.

Rebel Without a Cause        (Nicholas Ray, 1955)
One of the first films that made me want to become an actor, and probably everyone else for that matter. Ray was a greatly underrated director championed by the Cahiers group. Dean was an acting god.

Seconds        (John Frankenheimer, 1966)
Strange. Pure strangeness. Great James Wong Howe cinematography. Frankenheimer was certainly on a roll starting with The Manchurian Candidate. Rock Hudson man!

Film purists are probably wondering how dare I list Bad News Bears along with a Kurosawa! My tastes are eclectic, and having grown up with the films of the '70s, I have to say Ritchie's film is a classic, one that you can watch every time it's on. All of these choices (and there are so many more) can be viewed over and over. Of course there are many directors left out: Ozu, Scorsese, Wilder, Bergman, Altman, Hitchcock, Chaplin, Keaton, Woody Allen, Fellini, Welles...the list goes on. My list changes daily.

James Sturch is a high school English teacher and a film historian from San Diego, Ca.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Peter Tonguette

(revised list, in preferential order)

1.  Chimes at Midnight        (Orson Welles, 1966)
2.  Viaggio in Italia        (Roberto Rossellini, 1953)
3.  Make Way for Tomorrow        (Leo McCarey, 1937)
4.  The “garden fragment” from The Dreamers        (Orson Welles, 1982, fragment from unfinished film)
5.  An American Romance        (King Vidor, 1944)
6.  Gertrud        (Carl Dreyer, 1964)
7.  Hatari!        (Howard Hawks, 1962)
8.  The Magnificent Ambersons        (Orson Welles, 1942)
9.  Stars in My Crown        (Jacques Tourneur, 1950)
10. Metaphor: King Vidor Meets With Andrew Wyeth        (King Vidor, 1980)

See also Peter's other lists: Jan–Feb 2003      July–Sept 2006

Peter Tonguette, 21, is staff critic at The Film Journal. His writing on film has also appeared in 24fps Magazine and Bright Lights Film Journal, among others. His article on Orson Welles' unfinished film The Dreamers, which first appeared in Senses of Cinema, was translated to Portuguese for publication in Contracampo.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


Samuel Wigley

(revised list, in alphabetical order)

Aguirre: The Wrath of God        (Werner Herzog, 1972)
The Big Sleep        (Howard Hawks, 1946)
Chinatown        (Roman Polanski, 1974)
The Lady from Shanghai        (Orson Welles, 1947)
Landscape in the Mist        (Theo Angelopoulos, 1988)
Le Mépris        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963)
Une Partie de Campagne        (Jean Renoir, 1936)
Persona        (Ingmar Bergman, 1966)
Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
Viaggio in Italia        (Roberto Rossellini, 1953)

Five runners up: La Battaglia di Algeri (Gillo Pontecorvo, 1965); Talk to Her (Pedro Almodóvar, 2002); I Know Where I'm Going! (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1945); Johnny Guitar (Nicholas Ray, 1954); Manhattan (Woody Allen, 1979).

This doesn't get any easier and I know that as soon as I submit this I'll regret the lack of Altman, Sirk, and Ozu especially. And obviously it's only sensible to stick to one film per director, so no Pierrot le fou, Notorious, Rio Bravo or Fanny and Alexander. There is still so much for me to see, and in the near future I look forward to discovering more of Bresson, Mizoguchi, Dreyer, Ozu, Tarkovsky, Rivette, Antonioni, Kiarostami...

See also Samuel's other lists: Jan–Feb 2003      Apr–June 2007

Samuel Wigley, 23, recently completed a Masters Degree in Visual Culture at the University of Nottingham, UK.

back to lists, Jul-Sept 2004


TALLY at July–September 2004,
after 436 original lists, 61 revised lists, and 4 deleted lists:

By film:

Vertigo
Vertigo
 1.
 2.
 3.
 4.
 5.

 7.

 9.
10.

Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941)
La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939)
Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927)
Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953)
Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976)
       (Federico Fellini, 1963)
Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966)
The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956)
Mirror        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974)
86
50
49
39
34
34
33
33
29
28
28

By director:

to Alan Pavelin's 'Great Directors' profile of Robert Bresson
Robert Bresson
 1.
 2.
 3.
 4.
 5.
 6.
 7.
 8.
 9.
10.
Alfred Hitchcock
Jean-Luc Godard
Orson Welles
Stanley Kubrick
Robert Bresson
Ingmar Bergman
Andrei Tarkovsky
Martin Scorsese
Akira Kurosawa
Carl Dreyer
158
109
107
104
  90
  88
  86
  85
  74
  73

  back to the top of the page


 

April–June 2004

 


Bill Blick

(in no particular order)

One-Eyed Jacks        (Marlon Brando, 1961)
The most underrated western of all time. It's got guts, character, and smarts.

Journal d'un curé de campagne        (Robert Bresson, 1950)
A quiet, delicate film full of nuance and introspection. Watching the film is a meditative experience.

Mean Streets        (Martin Scorsese, 1973)
Brilliant personal film and character study.

Rififi        (Jules Dassin, 1955)
The best caper movie ever with the best heist scene ever. A gritty portrayal of the French underworld.

Der Letzte Mann        (F.W. Murnau, 1924)
A brilliant Kammerspiel and a great tribute to the common man.

Z        (Costa-Gavras, 1969)
The all-time greatest political paranoia film.

Rashomon        (Akira Kurosawa, 1950)
A beautiful film that most effectively deals with the ambiguity of truth.

Blood Simple        (Joel Coen, 1983)
A neo-noir masterpiece displaying incredible mastery of technique of the genre film.

Kiss Me Deadly        (Robert Aldrich, 1955)
A bizarre take on the hardboiled detective film with strangely allegorical elements.

Shock Corridor        (Samuel Fuller, 1963)
Sensationalism at its best.

Bill Blick is a freelance writer and cinephile hailing from Bellerose, New York. He has a BA in Media Studies and an MA in English Literature from Queens College.

back to lists, April-June 2004


Matthew Clayfield

(in preferential order)

1.  Lawrence of Arabia        (David Lean, 1962)
2.  Casablanca        (Michael Curtiz, 1942)
3.  The Godfather        (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972)
4.  Blade Runner        (Ridley Scott, 1982)
5.  Bande à part        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1964)
6.  North by Northwest        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1959)
7.  Pulp Fiction        (Quentin Tarantino, 1994)
8.  Singin' in the Rain        (Stanley Donen & Gene Kelly, 1952)
9.  Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976)
10.  The General        (Buster Keaton/Clyde Bruckman, 1926)

See also Matthew's revised lists: Apr–June 2005      Jul–Sept 2006

Matthew Clayfield is a film and television student at Bond University in Queensland, Australia.

back to lists, April-June 2004


Aurelio Nieto Codina

(in no particular order)

Marnie        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1964)
Ordet        (Carl Dreyer, 1954)
Viridiana        (Luis Buñuel, 1961)
Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953)
Sanshô dayû        (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1954)
The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance        (John Ford, 1962)
Barry Lyndon        (Stanley Kubrick, 1975)
Casanova        (Federico Fellini, 1976)
Wild Strawberries        (Ingmar Bergman, 1957)
Moonfleet        (Fritz Lang, 1955)

I will also mention a Spanish movie, an unknown masterpiece, it is really superb: Vida en sombras (Lorenzo Llobet Gracia, 1948). The title translated to English is “Live in Shadows”.

Aurelio Nieto Codina was born in 1965 in Madrid, Spain, and has been a film fanatic since he was a kid, with a special penchant for classic American movies. He is a Doctor in Geography, teaches History and Urban Geography in Fuenlabrada, Madrid, and has studied the relationship between urbanism and cinema, i.e., the role of the city in the movies. He wrote about Pasolini in the Spanish magazine OrientacioneS in 2002.

back to lists, April-June 2004


Ruslan Dzhanumyan

(revised list, in preferential order)

1.  Ivan the Terrible, Parts I and II        (Sergei Eisenstein, 1945 and 1958)
2.  I Racconti di Canterbury        (Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1972)
3.  Simon of the Desert        (Luis Buñuel, 1965)
4.  Doomed Love        (Manoel de Oliveira, 1979)
5.  Le Testament d'Orphée        (Jean Cocteau, 1959)
6.  Monsieur Verdoux        (Charles Chaplin, 1947)
7.  Lancelot du Lac        (Robert Bresson, 1974)
8.  Blow Out        (Brian De Palma, 1981)
9.  Othello        (Orson Welles, 1951)
10.  Asthenic Syndrome        (Kira Muratova, 1989)

Too early to tell: Flowers of Shanghai (Hou Hsaio-hsien, 1998); Mulholland Drive (David Lynch, 2001); Pulp Fiction (Quentin Tarantino, 1994); Through the Olive Trees (Abbas Kiarostami, 1994); The Hole (Tsai Ming-liang, 1998).

See also Ruslan's previous list: Mar–Apr 2002

Ruslan Dzhanumyan is a biology and film student at the University of California, Irivine.

back to lists, April-June 2004


David Ehrenstein

(revised list, in preferential order)

1.  Those Who Love Me Can Take the Train        (Patrice Chéreau, 1998)
2.          (Federico Fellini, 1963)
3.  The Night of the Hunter        (Charles Laughton, 1955)
4.  The Red Shoes        (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1949)
5.  Lola Montès        (Max Ophuls, 1955)
6.  Playtime        (Jacques Tati, 1967)
7.  The Leopard        (Luchino Visconti, 1963)
8.  Duelle        (Jacques Rivette, 1976)
9.  Pas sur la bouche        (Alain Resnais, 2003)
10.  Good News        (Charles Walters, 1947)

See also David's other lists: Jul–Aug 2002      Jul–Sept 2006

David Ehrenstein is the author of Open Secret: Gay Hollywood 1928-2000 (Harper, 2000), The Scorsese Picture (Birch Lane Press, 1992) and Film: The Front Line 1984 (Arden Press, 1984). His essays have appeared in Film Comment and Film Quarterly. He participated in the roundtable discussion “Obscure Objects of Desire” with Raymond Durgnat and Jonathan Rosenbaum in Film Comment (July–August 1978). Visit www.ehrensteinland.com.

back to lists, April-June 2004


Matthew Ford

(in chronological order)

La Dolce Vita        (Federico Fellini, 1960)
        (Federico Fellini, 1963)
Masculin Féminin        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1966)
Il Conformista        (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1969)
Le Charme Discret de la Bourgeoisie        (Luis Buñuel, 1972)
Chinatown        (Roman Polanski, 1974)
Mirror        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974)
Nashville        (Robert Altman, 1975)
Raging Bull        (Martin Scorsese, 1980)
Underground        (Emir Kusturica, 1995)

This is a rather conservative list by my reckoning, with a peculiar predilection for the early '70s. On a different day it would have some early Hollywood noir, a Japanese film or two and some more nouvelle vague. Melville and Roeg loom as potential dark horses, and it would also be nice to find space for a musical. (If only we used a dodecimal numbering system…)

Matthew Ford is an independent filmmaker based in Sydney.

back to lists, April-June 2004


Chemi González

(in order of preference – by how strongly these films made an impact on me when I saw them for the first time, and how that impression has held up over time)

1.  McCabe & Mrs. Miller        (Robert Altman, 1971)
2.  The Exterminating Angel        (Luis Buñuel, 1962)
3.  Une Femme est une femme        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1961)
4.  The Apartment        (Billy Wilder, 1960)
5.  Chinese Roulette        (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1976)
6.  Blow-Up        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1966)
7.  The Purple Rose of Cairo        (Woody Allen, 1985)
8.          (Federico Fellini, 1963)
9.  A Woman Under the Influence        (John Cassavetes, 1974)
10.  Underground        (Emir Kusturica, 1995)

Making a top ten list – or even a 100 best list – is always such a difficult and demanding task. Just when you think you have everything covered, there are always some titles that keep popping into your head. I decided that my top ten would be a mixture of films that have always represented a lot to me and have shaped my interest in film (The Purple Rose of Cairo, ), with the addition of some recent favourites as well as some films that I simply respond to not only in cinematic terms but in emotional terms too (McCabe & Mrs. Miller, The Apartment). This list is very incomplete, a little American-centric and if I were to do it again tomorrow it would probably be a little different (I know I keep changing my Fassbinder pick from Satan's Brew to Chinese Roulette, from list to list). And even though some of my favourite directors are there, it's a shame about all those I had to leave out. Aki Kaurismäki, Claude Chabrol, Nicolas Roeg, Ken Russell, Atom Egoyan, Douglas Sirk, Ozu, Brian De Palma…but again that is the magic and the curse of these lists.

Chemi González is a student at the University of Puerto Rico, currently majoring in film and literature. He has made some short films and writes for a Puertorrican journal, Claridad, about film.

back to lists, April-June 2004


J. Alec Hawkins

(in preferential order)

1.  Hour of the Wolf        (Ingmar Bergman, 1968)
2.  Aguirre: The Wrath of God        (Werner Herzog, 1972)
3.  La Passion de Jeanne D'Arc        (Carl Dreyer, 1928)
4.  Alphaville        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1965)
5.  Bad Lieutenant        (Abel Ferrara, 1992)
6.  The Great Ecstasy of Woodcarver Steiner        (Werner Herzog, 1974)
7.  Vivre sa vie        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1962)
8.  Last Tango in Paris        (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1972)
9.  Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story        (Todd Haynes, 1987)
10.  Puce Moment        (Kenneth Anger, 1949)

Honourable mention: Sans soleil (Chris Marker, 1982); The Unbearable Lightness of Being (Philip Kaufman, 1987); The Last Temptation of Christ (Martin Scorsese, 1988); Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, 1982); Grey Gardens (David & Albert Maysles, Ellen Hovde & Muffie Meyer, 1975).

There are so many movies yet to see, but for now, these are the ones that still linger in my mind. A great thanks to these great masters of cinema. In 100 years you have changed the way we think, see, and love.

J. Alec Hawkins is a filmmaker from Columbus, MS.

back to lists, April-June 2004


Quatrain Heifer

Ten films that knocked my socks off:

(in alphabetical order)

Amateur        (Hal Hartley, 1994)
Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966)
Black Narcissus        (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1947)
Desperate Living        (John Waters, 1977)
Gasman        (Lynne Ramsay, 1997)
Pather Panchali        (Satyajit Ray, 1955)
Regen        (Joris Ivens, 1929)
Sans Soleil        (Chris Marker, 1982)
Stroszek        (Werner Herzog, 1977)
Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story        (Todd Haynes, 1987)

Some shout-outs to Chantal Akerman, F.W. Murnau, Lukas Moodysson, Yasujiro Ozu, Preston Sturges and Jean Vigo.

Quatrain Heifer is a pseudonym studying digital farts at an acronymic art school in an acronymic country between two shining seas.

back to lists, April-June 2004


Jack Hughes

(in alphabetical order)

Celine et Julie Vont en Bateau        (Jacques Rivette, 1974)
Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941)
Dog Star Man        (Stan Brakhage, 1962–64)
The King of Comedy        (Martin Scorsese, 1983)
Love Streams        (John Cassavetes, 1984)
Ordet        (Carl Dreyer, 1954)
Orphée        (Jean Cocteau, 1950)
The Passenger        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1975)
Playtime        (Jacques Tati, 1967)
Rio Bravo        (Howard Hawks, 1959)

Which of course fails to do justice to Hitchcock, Bresson, Pasolini and at least twenty others. If the object were to select ten films for a desert island, I would have to find room somewhere for Les Parapluies de Cherbourg (Jacques Demy, 1964) and The Band Wagon (Vincente Minnelli, 1953).

Jack Hughes writes film reviews for the Outreach Connection in Toronto, Canada.

back to lists, April-June 2004


Jack Jewers

(revised list, in chronological order)

Napoléon        (Abel Gance, 1927)
Bitter Rice        (Giuseppe De Santis, 1949)
Rear Window        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1954)
Hidden Fortress        (Akira Kurosawa, 1958)
A Bout de Souffle        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1959)
The Virgin Spring        (Ingmar Bergman, 1960)
La Dolce Vita        (Federico Fellini, 1960)
Lawrence of Arabia        (David Lean, 1962)
A Clockwork Orange        (Stanley Kubrick, 1971)
Manhattan        (Woody Allen, 1979)

I limited myself to one per director, otherwise I could quite easily have included Le Notti di Cabiria and The Seventh Seal. Nothing from the '80s I realise, which is probably wrong. I think that it's harder to tell about films made in the last ten years, otherwise I'd have no hesitation in checking off Mulholland Drive, Donnie Darko and Everyone Says I Love You. These things always fall somewhere between amusing and infuriating to put together! But in the end, of course, it is only a game.

See also Jack's previous list: May–June 2002

Jack Jewers is a director from London.

back to lists, April-June 2004


Ian Laird

(in preferential order)

1.  The General        (Buster Keaton/Clyde Bruckman, 1926)
Boy has train. Boy loses train. Boy finds train.

2.  L'Atalante        (Jean Vigo, 1934)
Vigo's poem of the bargees' life illuminated by the light from Dita Parlo's wedding dress.

3.  Singin' in the Rain        (Stanley Donen & Gene Kelly, 1952)
Genuinely witty, and some of the best dance caught on film.

4.  High and Low        (Akira Kurosawa, 1963)
A m