My Top 100 Films (25-1)

25. The Man With a Movie Camera (1929) - Dziga Vertov
For some reason I just never know what to say about this here motion picture. I am not exactly counting documentaries for this list, then again this isn’t exactly a documentary. There is a narrative and well it’s too damn experimental to chalk it up as just some sort of avant-garde cinema verite. Many years ago I watched this alongside Sergei Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin and was far more impressed with Vertov. In the 23 years since then what was once an audacious statement seems to be echoed by a whole lot of people. Eisenstein’s classic is still great but it has been dissected in so many books/essays/classes that most of the artistry is academic. Vertov’s film can be broken down a thousand times and it wouldn’t seem any less impressive. It is the longest enduring entry in that all too brief sub genre known as “city symphonies”. Also with a recent restoration (at least in the past 10 years) it is entirely possible that revisiting it recently was like seeing it truly for the first time again. What else can you say besides this is just pure imagination?

24. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (1966) - Sergio Leone
One pleasant side note of my year of binging trash before earnestly working on this list, I got intimately familiar with spaghetti Westerns. Although, even after another 25-30 of these movies under my belt there was hardly any doubt that Sergio Leone’s 1966 epic would still retain the title. To be fair, Once Upon a Time in the West nearly made this list, which is a testament to just how damn great Leone was at this stuff. It is reductive to try and say this is a Western for people who hate the genre, but it is certainly fair to say it is one for people who love it as well. This is so damn good that I challenge anyone not to like it or outright love it. The influence of GBU has been felt for generations, but when that opening theme song hits you’re hooked. This not only launched Clint Eastwood’s career, but helped breathe new life into Lee Van Cleef and Eli Wallach’s movie careers. All three were able to successfully capitalize on their newfound celebrity and become icons of a new breed of Western. Regardless of their titles, each of our three leads should probably be called “The Bad” but there was already a Western named 3 Bad Men. This is Leone and Morricone at their best, simply perfection.

23. Before Sunrise/Before Sunset/Before Midnight (1995/2004/2013) - Richard Linklater
I love certain movies because they can take me places and show me things well beyond the realm of possibilities. Likely never going to experience intergalactic space travel, or a zombie apocalypse. In the case of Linklater/Hawke/Delpy’s Before trilogy, I love these movies because they feel so damn real to me. At each stage of my life they seem to resonate, being about a decade behind the characters, I always felt not quite up to speed. Now that Before Midnight is a decade on us, and I’m staring at 40 while being married, they all deeply resonate with different periods of my life. Depending on the mood, or the substances while watching them, I’ve been a blubbering mess on multiple occasions. I still believe the ending of Before Sunset might be my single favorite ending of any film ever. As for Sunrise, it remains my favorite, and god damn did it hit me hard on my most recent viewing. I laughed during the audio commentary for Midnight when a cameraman objected to their fighting because of how idealized Celine and Jesse were to him and his wife. There are a lot of couples all over the world who resonate with these two, and their beautiful, occasionally heartbreaking, and very real romance. If I had any complaint it is that we didn’t get a fourth movie in 2022.

22. The Shining (1980) - Stanley Kubrick
So much of what I have to say about Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of The Shining has been said a thousand times. Yes, it truly is the greatest horror film of all time. Sure it might not have been Stephen King approved, but that man directed Maximum Overdrive, do you really want to take his opinion? The Shining is so good it makes me forgive the fact that it has jump scares. The Grady sisters (totally not twins) used to freak my ass out as a much younger viewer. Perhaps the greatest element of the film is the Overlook itself. So much time is spent wandering around its hallways and getting a look at its exterior that it feels very much like the main character in this story. I feel like I can wander down those hallways for hours. So many lazier filmmakers have taken tropes from this, with less than a tenth of the Shining’s success rate. That opening theme with the aerial photography is all I need to remind myself I made the right choice watching this for the 40th time.

21. M (1931) - Fritz Lang
It seems almost academic to say Fritz Lang was one of the greatest directors to ever live. For a decade he made some of the most ambitious and best German films in the silent era, often in collaboration with his wife Thea Von Harbou. For his first sound film I would argue he made his masterpiece. In much of his later interviews, Lang would agree even getting that line in Godard’s Contempt. Watching this yet again I was won over by the 10 minute mark. I mean a morbid nursery rhyme, a creepy whistle, and an empty seat at a dinner table. Lang made sure his gifts as a visual storyteller were still paramount, and sound was used only in what seems like expressionist tendencies. Much of the movie is quite silent, which only emphasizes the soundtrack more. The subject matter remains quite brutal and the type of thing no one was making in Hollywood, Hayes code or not. It also forever cast Peter Lorre as that supremely creepy guy you most certainly wouldn’t trust around your kids. Perhaps it was because Lang took a huge step back from the bloated productions of his previous silent epics that really allowed him to distill what made a great film here.

20. The Big Lebowski (1998) - Joel and Ethan Coen
I will refrain from filling this write-up with nothing but quotes from my favorite Coen Brothers movie. There are films in this list that have held up with age and others, often the very best that seem to improve with each re-visit. The Coen’s crafted what seemed like a light, slightly goofy neo-noir about a deadbeat bowler and it took on a life of its own. It seemed like a throwaway after the major critical and commercial success of Fargo, and many critics along with myself thought the same thing. It was fun but wasn’t trying to reach the heights of their previous offering. Then I saw it again, and again, and again, and again, and god damn it if it isn’t their masterpiece. Sure they won’t agree with you, but the people have spoken. It also continues their tradition of making all of their films period pictures, even if it’s only 7 years in the past. I can advise you to not attempt several of the drinking games associated with the film, because well no one should drink 9 White Russians in 2 hours. One time I tried taking a drink every time they said “fuck” and by the end of the first bowling scene had taken down a six pack.

19. Los Olvidados (1950) - Luis Bunuel
At some point in my life I used to debate internally what my favorite Luis Bunuel film was, not anymore. After a brief exile from Spain and movie making in general Bunuel found himself employed in Mexico. In response to sentimental Neo-Realist films, he made Los Olvidados and reminded everyone the master surrealist and provocateur wasn’t done. Of all the films that have seemingly dropped out of existence since my last list, I really expected someone, anyone would have released Los Olvidados. It is out there on YouTube, where the subtitles say “torta” is “sandwich” and a main character “Pietro” is “Peter”, but I’ll take it. We get at least two brilliant dream sequences, which are largely absent from many of Bunuel’s Mexican works. It pulls together the finest of his early days in France and his later masterworks, with by far the strongest narrative of his career. Everyone is reprehensible and those that aren’t, soon will be. By the way, there’s a dancing fucking dog in this shit, case closed.

18. Annie Hall (1977) - Woody Allen
If you’re wondering if I can separate the art from the artist, this might answer your question. Woody Allen has been problematic since before I had ever seen one of his movies, and I grew up hearing jokes about him long before seeing his movies. In fact my first exposure to Annie Hall was that it was the film that had the unmitigated audacity to beat Star Wars for best picture of 1977. Well a couple decades later, that seems less far fetched. In no world can someone say Allen is perfect, but this film is. It represents an artist making the confident leap from comedian to full fledged auteur. He took some big swings this time around and they paid off across the board. Even after keeping his insane movie-a-year pace for the next 4 decades Allen never quite struck that perfect balance as he did here. It’s still damn funny, touching, heartbreaking, and endlessly inventive. The type of go-for-broke try everything film that leaves no narrative stone un-turned. All miraculously crammed into a tight 94 minutes. I don’t think I could ever not love this movie.

17. Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1974) - Terry Gilliam/Terry Jones
Some movies define you as a person, either by informing your world view or shaping your taste. What your favorite comedy is says a lot about what makes you you. I’m not here to tell everyone who thinks a comedy besides Monty Python’s Holy Grail is the funniest is wrong, but they are. No other film in my life also seems to define my family’s taste in people. Most parents might ask where your new girlfriend went to school, what they do for a living, etc. My mom only asks “Have they seen Holy Grail yet, and did they get it?” If the answer is yes, you are officially welcome to Thanksgiving and Christmas. Honestly it’s a film that as niche as it might seem is inconceivable to me that someone wouldn’t laugh at something. I’ve seen it probably two dozen or more times and I still find shit to laugh at every time. It’s one of the early fore-runners of the joke-a-second model adopted by the Zucker brothers and others in later years. The credits are ridiculous, the music is silly, every element of the film is room for a joke. Like many of the best comedies you can spend the entire length of the film either quoting it or trading your favorite scenes. If you agree with the placement of this film on my list, we can be friends, and doesn’t that tell you all you need to know?

16. Taxi Driver (1976) - Martin Scorsese
The first collaboration between Martin Scorsese and Paul Schrader remains their best. This is a new revelation for me, but it shouldn’t be. Thinking back I believe Taxi Driver might have been the first Scorsese film I watched, certainly the first one I remember seeking out. I also remember telling multiple people in 7th grade they had to watch it. This is the obligatory part where I mention that this too was mentioned in Cult Movies 2, and well I think it does fit into that that weird subversive side of 70s cinema, I’m not sure how well the designation fits. Taxi Driver is the type of movie that makes you feel awkward but offers some catharsis. Scorsese does a great job of slightly humanizing Travis Bickle from the far more racist and abrasive character in Schrader’s script. It’s not that this character deserves a softer touch, but he knows that we’re spending almost the entire film from his perspective and the film would be unwatchable if he was completely irredeemable. Perhaps no other film better represents the seedy side of 1970s New York like this, and what a final score to go out on for the legendary Bernard Hermann.

15. All That Jazz (1979) - Bob Fosse
What if 8 ½ was more autobiographical and also a musical? Well let’s all forget about 9 (I know we already did) and instead look upon Bob Fosse’s masterpiece with awe. Roy Scheider is perfect as Joe Gideon/not Bob Fosse, even if his singing voice is less than great. As the saying goes, go with what you know. Watching the Emmy nominated Fosse/Verdon mini-series all I could think was, man I’d really like to revisit All That Jazz. To be honest, that is a phrase I say a lot. Fosse at least had the good sense to surround Scheider with many first rate dancers and singers from his own productions. It is also a master class in editing, jumping from fantasy to reality, flashbacks, musical numbers and just the rhythm of day to day life. In short it is everything you could ask for, and all that jazz.

14. Sunrise (1927) - F.W. Murnau
It is quite possible Sunrise is a film many people admire more than they like, but that wouldn’t be me. F.W. Murnau’s first American film remains the crowning achievement of the silent cinema. Made right as sound was coming into pictures, this even employs a rudimentary score incorporating sound effects and some background noise, it is a dying medium’s final farewell. By this point in time Hollywood’s infinity stone gathering of European talent was complete. A remarkable crew of German technicians met with the deep pockets of Fox studios. All of this would be a waste if the movie itself was mere style over substance. The plot is simple yet effective and George O’Brien does a Herculean task of not just convincing his wife that he isn’t going to murder her, but us in the audience. It is the type of fable that feels like it could have only worked as a silent film, but boy does it. Sometimes the simplest things take the most work.

13. Singing in the Rain (1952) - Gene Kelly/Stanley Donen
There isn’t a more joyous motion picture out there folks. A musical that can make people who hate musicals happy. Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen teamed up for the second time to make the ultimate studio musical. Like many things of its era, it took several decades for folks to get wise. To many audiences in 1952 the film seemed a clear step down from An American in Paris, lacking the finesse Vincente Minelli had along with Gershwin’s music. Arthur Freed largely took his own music from the late 20s and offered a greatest hits of the era. Modern audiences don’t care where the songs are from, they all slap. If I had to choose, it is still probably my favorite movie about filmmaking, at least in Hollywood. I wouldn’t look to this as a historically accurate depiction about the coming of sound in Hollywood, but certainly is the most amusing. One thing I don’t get is how they got booed doing “Fit as a Fiddle”, some people just can’t appreciate greatness.

12. All Quiet on the Western Front (1930) - Lewis Milestone
The first time I watched All Quiet on the Western Front, which I was dreading because how good could a war movie from 1930 be, I was hooked. It instantly jumped into my top 5 and it only climbed since then. There were several times I watched it and thought it might de-throne Citizen Kane, climbing all the way to #2 on the last list. Well I’m not going to blame the awful remake from last year, but this did not hit quite the same. That isn’t entirely surprising, every time I watched the film I expected the magic to fade a little. Yet the scale, the tracking shots, the lack of a musical score won me over again and again. Watching it in 2023 I don’t think it is the 2nd greatest film of all time, and some of the dated performances and thick American accents on German soldiers can wear on you. I still think it is the final word in the “war is hell” subgenre. No other film quite hits the nihilistic notes of war quite like this, although Come and See is an honorable mention.

11. Star Wars/The Empire Strikes Back/Return of the Jedi (1977/1980/1983) - George Lucas/Irving Kershner/Richard Marquand  
I’ll give Disney credit, they’re trying. Trying to ruin one of the greatest franchises we ever had. With every new movie and show I care less and less about Star Wars. Still each time I revisit the original trilogy all of that shit disappears. After all this time Star Wars remains the greatest science fiction/fantasy series, and about the best Hollywood could do in the modern era. Some films are so damn good that you forgive those little flaws. Does it make any sense Luke and Leia are related, no it really doesn’t. Does it also make watching their sexual chemistry in the first movie extra awkward, of course not. Take them as they are, even if things stopped with the first one it would be on this list. Together though they bring me all the member-berries and some sweet amnesia for everything that happened after 1999.

10. Casablanca (1942) - Michael Curtiz
Well here we have what I would probably consider to be the single most important film in my life. Sure I loved movies before this, in fact you can clearly see this isn’t even occupying the #1 spot. However I might not be making this list, or be the person I am today without Casablanca. I’ve told the story often, but it was the movie that I decided to test the waters on to see if all those critics were right, and in this case they were. Perhaps it’s status as a cultural touchstone has dipped a little since the 90s but it was one of those movies that I felt immediately familiar with upon first watch, getting context for so many references, homages, and parodies. I watched it twice during my initial rent, and have seen it more than a dozen times since, in nearly every format and setting. Each and every time I put it on I smile a little to myself and marvel at just how perfect it all is. How did that well-oiled Hollywood machine churn out products this consistent? What strange alchemy aligned all the stars to make this perhaps its greatest triumph? It makes little sense considering how many re-writes the script had. I can accept people saying this isn’t the greatest movie ever made, but if you straight up don’t like it, we can never be friends.

9. Pulp Fiction (1994) - Quentin Tarantino
I saw this in the theater when it first came out. In hindsight I was probably too young for it, but reading about Tarantino seeing The Wild Bunch around the age of 8 makes me feel like the man would have been proud. From the time I started really giving a shit about movies, Pulp Fiction has held a special place in my heart. It has that type of nostalgia that makes me insufferable to watch it with. I will laugh before things happen, I will say lines out loud, and if you aren’t at my level, get there. Plenty of credit rightfully went to Roger Avery for his work on the screenplay but this is Tarantino through and through. Guarantee Avery didn’t write that opening monologue about foot massages. Telling a narrative out of order might seem like a cheap cliche but it blew our fucking minds in 1994. There’s something so 90s about a movie that is so 70s. I also learned far too early what a gimp was, and to stay the fuck out of pawn shops.

8. The Rules of the Game (1939) - Jean Renoir
If I could award something film of the decade, Renoir’s masterpiece would take that title. There is no movie I have watched more in the past ten years than Rules of the Game, that includes Batman and Robin, and even Thor Ragnarok. Much like many of my other all time favorites this one seeps into my brain and tells me on a near daily basis “let’s watch this again”. The journey to this point took a long time, nearly 20 years to be exact. I watched it for the first time in a horribly faded print with white on white subtitles that I could barely read. Then found a better version, and eventually the fine folks at Criterion released it. This January I got to see a 4k restoration at the Music Box and I’m not sure it’s ever going to look better. Along the way I was convinced every time I watched it that Grand Illusion was better. I’m not taking anything away from Renoir’s other all-time great, but I was wrong. There is so much dialogue that it is nearly impossible to catch everything even after three viewings. It helps if you are fluent in French which I’m definitely not. However after watching this 9-10 times I did attempt to watch it without looking at the subtitles, and man there is so much going on in every frame. There is a reason this was in Sight and Sounds top 10 from 1952 through 2012 (curse those bastards for dropping it to the top 20 in 2022). The best films only get better under close scrutiny and under the microscope. Here’s to watching this another 12 times in the upcoming decade.

7. The Godfather/The Godfather Part 2 (1972/1974) - Francis Ford Coppola
The Godfather might be the butt of a hilarious joke in Barbie, but what do you want, it really is that good. Like many of the films this high up, it doesn’t really need me to add any reasons why to praise it. Coppola re-edited part 3 which does a little to help the very damaged reputation it has, but even improved it doesn’t measure up to the first two. You could fault it, but very few films do. You could blame Sophia, but that is taking a cheap shot. What is most impressive about The Godfather is that it was the highest grossing movie in America at one point in time. Rarely has public and critical taste been so aligned. I always wanted to ask why Carlo took that ass whooping? I mean he knew Sonny would go after him, but like he didn’t block a single punch or fight back. Each viewing I wonder if the sequel might actually be superior, but I prefer to look at it as one nearly 7 hour movie. If you haven’t seen it in 2023, find yourself a Ken to walk you through it.

6. Persona (1966) - Ingmar Bergman
When I first had a chance to watch Persona I was angry it didn’t go harder. The narrative was too straightforward after that brilliant wtf prologue. The second time I watched it, I wondered what the hell I was thinking. Then I realized I may have watched it in the wrong aspect ratio. I put it on with an audio commentary track, and shut off the commentary because they were talking over my movie. Around that time I realized that this wasn’t just a masterpiece, it was on the very short list of the greatest films ever made. The finest film from someone I could confidently say was one of the 2-3 greatest filmmakers ever. It shares a lineage with a number of films, Mulholland Drive comes to mind, but is so singular and unique that it stands in a class by itself. Like the greatest films it makes you think about just what is going on, but ultimately the answer is whatever you happen to think it is at that given time. At a nice tight 84 minutes, it also shows that you can re-write the language of cinema in under an hour and a half.

5. Mulholland Drive (2001) - David Lynch
When I first got a chance to watch Mulholland Drive on that barebones DVD I thought “this is so far the film of the decade”. Sure we were only two years in, but as the years passed by nothing came around to really challenge it. This past year it was honored by the Sight and Sound critics with a spot in the top ten, and damned if I don’t agree with it. We can debate whether this or In the Mood for Love are the films of the 2000s, but my vote is cast. What makes the film so great after many, many, many viewings is just how damn perfect it is. In a nutshell it is about as David Lynch as it gets. So many little diversions that seemingly have nothing to do with anything but just add another layer to the proceedings. The plot as it were is perhaps not as complicated as the first viewing might have you believe, and makes a hell of a lot more sense than Lost Highway. With the exception of maybe The Straight Story or Blue Velvet, who the hell ever watched a Lynch movie for the plot? You just shut the lights off and let this weird fucker take you on a journey. I am profoundly grateful this never became a series because it is just cinematic perfection.

4. 8 ½ (1963) - Federico Fellini
Gianni Di Venanzo, perhaps not the first name that pops to mind when 8 ½ comes up is it? I’ll save you the search, he was the cinematographer on this movie. His camera feels like it never stops moving, nothing is static, and it keeps the pace so light. It often gets cited as the definitive auto-biographical movie about movies, but I’m not sure that’s apt. In true Italian film industry fashion, 5 screenwriters are credited here. Does it matter if these flashbacks are his or someone else’s? Of course not. Inspired perhaps by the new wave and Ingmar Bergman, Fellini was ready to take a radical swing here. Despite an ever evolving film industry, no one in Italy was doing what Fellini was here. Plenty of directors took a cue from him to make their own variations, but with the possible exception of Bob Fosse, no one came close.

3. Apocalypse Now (1979) - Francis Ford Coppola
If Casablanca was the first classic I watched, Apocalypse Now might have been the second. That first viewing I remember thinking, wow what a good war film, too bad it got weird at the end. Then I thought, who cares about this boring war stuff, let’s get to Kurtz. Today I just love every minute of the film. I haven’t watched The Final Cut, and frankly don’t know if I will. Redux added nothing of value, and frankly how do you improve upon a movie this good? What a decade Coppola had, almost makes up for the decades of disappointment he’s given us since. I’m not sure I’d call this a cult film, but it’s definitely one that hits quite hard under the influence. Watching Dennis Hopper rant like a madman while Marlon Brando mumbles largely gibberish is the stuff of legend. Sometimes I wonder what alternate reality we would live in if Orson Welles first movie actually was his proposed adaptation of Heart of Darkness. Glad he left it for Coppola to take massive liberties. Like Lawrence of Arabia, and many other infamous productions, this went ludicrously over schedule and budget, but was forged into this beautiful and perfect diamond.

2. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) - Stanley Kubrick
If this isn’t the greatest film of all time, it is the next closest thing. Last year the directors of the world voted this the best film of all time. It would be redundant to cite my opinion of Kubrick again here, but it would stand to reason his greatest film would rank among the best ever made. There are still people out here who just throw up their hands because they “don’t get it”. Before I even figured it out, I realized it didn’t matter. This movie is everything. It posits a great theory on how we got here and where we might be going. Nothing before it looked this good visually or in terms of the effects. John Alcott took over as cinematographer mid-shoot and proceeded to shoot Kubrick’s next three masterpieces. Kubrick also stumbled upon a brilliant idea using classical music as a temporary solution and leaving it in. More than anything though I just enjoy going on this ride every time. The final 30 minutes or so truly are my favorite thing in cinema.

1. Citizen Kane (1941) - Orson Welles
A whole lot has changed in the last decade, but this isn’t one of them. There was hardly any doubt Orson Welles’ first film wouldn’t retain the rightful place as the greatest of all time. I purposely made sure I ended all my research with this one, busting out Criterion’s 4k, and hearing grandpa Ebert explain how every shot in the film was done. Many smarter people than me have written books on how brilliant Citizen Kane is. Even the most ardent haters, who bash this film because they think it’s a personality trait, admit it’s influence and innovations. Ultimately though this wouldn’t be my #1 for the past two decades plus if I didn’t profoundly love watching it. From the opening to the mirrored close I adore every second of this, even Susan Alexander’s off key singing is music to my ears. I don’t aim to convince you it’s the greatest of all time, but the past 20 or so years people seem to be going out of their way to challenge it. Sure, go ahead and say it’s Vertigo, or pardon my laughter Jeanne Dielman that’s the true #1, but you’re wrong. We know it’s Kane, it has always been Kane.

My Top 100 Films: 50-26

50. Raging Bull (1980) - Martin Scorsese 

I’m not sure there’s much new I can add to the discourse on Raging Bull. Long considered Scorsese’s masterpiece and on the very short list for best films of the 80s, it has even become a symbolic marking of the last hurrah for New Hollywood. The film succeeds against one very impressive obstacle, having an awful and irredeemable lead character. Jake LaMotta is an awful man, who could not help destroying his own life and alienating everyone around him. De Niro gives the method performance to end all others with his 60lb weight gain, but equally impressive is how much fighting training he put in. Scorsese makes each and every match a unique visual experience, focusing more on the inner machinations of LaMotta and less on presenting any sort of realism. After 9 viewings it still packs a punch, very much pun intended.

 

49. Intolerance (1916) - D.W. Griffith

If only someone accused D.W .Griffith of being a racist sooner we might have sped up the evolution of cinema by a few years. After topping everyone that came before him with the problematic Birth of a Nation, Griffith proceeded to top himself while reminding everyone he won’t stand for intolerance, at least among white people. What began as a simple story (later re-edited into The Mother and the Law), he knew he needed to go bigger and better to surpass Birth. Rather than expand his contemporary story about a mother who loses her baby to do-gooder reformers and a troubled husband at the hands of a frame, he simply added more stories. It is clear that his retelling of the crucifixion of Christ was largely left for the viewer to fill in the familiar blanks. The real meat of the film came from his Babylonian sequence. Over 100 years since, I’m still honestly amazed at the scale and scope of the film. So much detail went into those sets, and even after a half dozen viewings I still wonder how it was all done.

 

48. In the Mood for Love (2000) - Wong Kar-Wai

Time has been quite kind to Wong Kar-Wai’s first movie of the new millennium. It was hailed as one of the films of the decade immediately, and last year found itself cracking the top 10 on Sight and Sound’s poll. Well time to confess I’ve never “gotten” the film, at least until now. In fact up until this most recent re-watch I would have said this was my 4th favorite Wong film at best. Well search the rest of the list, my thoughts have changed. Perhaps it was the lack of “plot” that threw me off, but the more I watch it the more it puts me under the spell. It’s a heartbreaking film of two people that are just out of reach. A familiar theme for Wong who seems to have had a lifetime obsession with unrequited love. It doesn’t hurt that his two leads are some of the most attractive people to ever appear on film. That score though, and the cinematography, pre or post-color grading controversy it doesn’t matter. It’s so lovingly constructed and I just have to apologize for not figuring this out sooner.

 47. They Live By Night (1949) - Nicholas Ray

Hollywood is loaded with potential what-ifs. How would James Dean’s career have gone if he didn’t die tragically young? Or what would have happened to Nicholas Ray’s film career if Howard Hughes didn’t take over RKO and shelve his debut for nearly two years? They Live by Night was doomed almost from the start, but unlike the New Mutants movie, this was actually great. He took nearly all the sensational elements from a lovers on the run movie, and distilled it just to the lovers. He paints his two doomed leads not as wild outlaws but as trapped victims of one too many bad breaks. Ray seems to go out of his way to hide any criminal activity, cutting one bank robbery from the script and shooting the other two entirely off camera. It made a huge impact over in Europe particularly with the directors who would start the French New Wave, which in turn would inspire Arthur Penn’s Bonnie and Clyde, bringing everything full circle. Ironically Cathy O’Donnell, who had perhaps the saddest eyes in Hollywood, was from Alabama and spent years getting rid of her thick southern accent before making this. Even the slightly cheesy prologue lets us know right up front, this isn’t a crime film but a romance, and it gets me every time.

46. Gone With the Wind (1939) - Victor Flemming/George Cukor/Sam Wood

Growing up I largely ignored classic movies. I knew of Casablanca and I knew my grandmother’s favorite movie was Gone With the Wind. I’m sure EVERYONE’s grandma’s favorite movie was Gone With the Wind, but can you blame them? Adjusted for inflation this is still the most successful film ever made, with a multiple year hype train which makes modern viral marketing pale in comparison. It was by far the biggest Hollywood production of its time, and frankly wouldn’t even come close to being topped until the 50s. Clark Gable descended from Mt. Olympus to step into Rhett Butler’s shoes, and to her dying day remained my grandmother’s all time favorite. Vivien Leigh beat out every other actress in the English speaking world for the role of a lifetime and boy did anyone ever nail a part. Perhaps my only gripe might be that Leslie Howard is no Clark Gable, how the hell is that the man you pine for? Sure Butterfly McQueen is obnoxious, but a couple minutes in a 3 ½ hour film is hardly going to ruin things. Like many films in our revisionist history it has had some degree of backlash largely from folks who never bothered watching it. Sure it romanticizes the hell out of the confederacy and gives the Union soldiers horns and pitchforks, that doesn’t mean you have to agree with their way of life. Just shut up and enjoy the movie, Yankee trash.

 

45. Do the Right Thing (1989) - Spike Lee

The more things change the more they stay the same. Spike Lee’s third film is noticeably dated in terms of its fashion and music but sadly just as relevant today in terms of police brutality. In fact in a post-Rodney King world or shit a post-George Floyd world Do the Right Thing is depressingly timely. We can have an awkward chuckle at the fact that this film went un-nominated for best picture when Driving Miss Daisy won, but the fact is this was bound to stick around. What makes Do the Right Thing still work isn’t so much the last act and the escalating incident that leads to a riot, but everything preceding it. Lee and Ernest Dickerson make a point to imbue every frame with something visually interesting. All these little parts of a whole that contribute to the bigger picture. How so many random, innocuous things can build up into something deadly. There is also an insistence on keeping every line of dialogue and exposition moving forward. He knows when to let the film breathe, when to ramp things up, and how to stack those layers throughout. After over 30 years it still is a decisive call to arms in a world where so little has changed.

 

44. La La Land (2016) - Damien Chazelle 

Perhaps the two best American movies of the last decade happened to come out during the same season. Moonlight represented a new perspective and an encouragement for studios to back diverse voices. La La Land showed just what the studio system could produce when they give the right person money. Damien Chazelle used all the goodwill Whiplash gave him to make his dream musical. Justin Hurwitz delivers one of the all time great film scores here, and to be quite frank his music does a lot of heavy lifting, particularly in the last “what-if” montage. This is the type of movie that deserved all the Oscars, and nearly pulled it off if it weren’t for that pesky and very infamous screw up at the end. With a few years behind them I have to admit, I still prefer Chazelle’s film, but if you look around you’ll see Barry Jenkins isn’t too far behind. There was an exact moment, when Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling start floating in the Planetarium where I remembered exactly why I love movies so damn much.

 

43. The Seventh Seal (1957) - Ingmar Bergman
There are many gateway pictures we see over the course of a lifetime. Sometimes they introduce you to a special filmmaker, sometimes a genre, other times a nation. I can say quite simply The Seventh Seal was my first Swedish film, or at least the first one I remember watching, but it introduced something far more important. This is one of those gateway films that assures you the old classic masters are just as worthwhile as they were decades earlier. For much of the world The Seventh Seal represented not just a breakthrough for Bergman, but what would become known as arthouse cinema in general. Movies tackling far more profound and philosophical themes than what traditional Hollywood pictures would get into. The reason 65+ years on Bergman’s film is still effective though is largely centered around how perfect everything is. Most of us remember the chess game with death, perhaps the plague ransacking the country, but there is also drunken humor, circus performers, random hijinks, and still it all fits into a little over 90 minutes. There were earlier good Bergman films but this kicked off a string of commercial and critical successes that launched him into the conversation as one of the top 10 directors in the world. For me anyways he’s probably in the top 3.

42. The Worst Person in the World (2021) - Joachim Trier 

For better or worse, this was the only film from the 2020s I seriously considered for this list. Not saying the decade is off to a slow start, but we can admit that a global pandemic certainly slowed things down out of the gate. So why wouldn’t the best film of the current decade come out of Norway? Hollywood has long since given up while churning out legacy sequels no one asked for and endless franchise faire. Perhaps a few disastrous bombs and the current strikes might shake things up, but as long as folks like Joachim Trier keep making movies, cinema itself has a promising future. Renate Reinsve has also delivered my favorite performance in recent memory, and frankly I haven’t felt the feelings like that in a movie since the Before trilogy.

 41. Tokyo Story (1953) - Yasujiro Ozu

What a cliche I am, saying this is Yasujiro Ozu’s best. For years I would point to Early Summer or even Good Morning as my favorite. Tokyo Story didn’t quite click with me, but a funny thing happened, and I got older. The reason it seems to inevitably become a favorite is because of how universal it is. The film is based on the also great Leo McCarey film Make Way for Tomorrow, but it transcends to a different level at the hands of Ozu. Plot threads in Ozu films can usually be summed up in a sentence, so in this movie two elderly parents travel to Tokyo to visit their children. While there, they find their kids have lives and jobs of their own and can’t necessarily be bothered to entertain them. It breaks your heart, but is filled with that simple and elegant style of his. The more I watch it the harder it resonates. Be nice to your parents folks, they won’t be around forever.

 

40. The Searchers (1956) - John Ford

Interesting that we live in a world where you almost have to apologize for liking a John Wayne film. Sure I can’t picture anyone else as Ethan Edwards, but this is John Ford at his absolute best, and the man did some great work. The Searchers was a salute to Monument Valley, and began a string of late career revisionist work. On the surface the natives are evil Comanches and we are rooting for the whites. Just underneath we see just how fucked up and racist our “hero” is. His allegiance to the Confederacy tells us more than we think. It isn’t his noble cause, it’s telling us the man is a god damn racist in his first scene. The fact that he could masquerade as the good guy for so long lets us know a lot about some rather backwards ideas in Hollywood. Not saying this is a true subversive ultra-liberal Western, but you can read it as such. Sure we can lament the fact that the famous Comanche war chief is played by the very white German Henry Brandon, but it lets us know in a sneaky way that the white guys are the villains when it comes to perpetuating violence. I could be reading too much into it, the movie is just fantastic and remains the best American made western, and Ford’s masterpiece.

 

39. The Maltese Falcon (1941) - John Huston 

Every time I make a list like this I seem to forget something really obvious. Well despite looking over my checklist about 4,000 times and even revisiting John Huston’s directorial debut, I forgot to actually write it down. Well palm meet face, I would wager there will never be a top 100 movie list from yours truly without this gem. Folks might argue whether this was the first true film noir, but it doesn’t matter. It set up the private eye film as a staple of 1940s cinema and is one of several hits that established Humphrey Bogart as a legend. Despite being adapted twice before, this remains the definitive version of Dashiell Hammet’s book. I would argue the reason is that John Huston really didn’t fuck with it too much. A few things had to be cleaned up for the censors, but plot wise this certainly captures the spirit of Sam Spade. After a few successful screenplays, perhaps the most talented nepo-baby of them all, John Huston got to direct his first film, and like Orson Welles that same year, I don’t think he ever did better. This is one you can revisit a hundred times and love just as much. Truly without flaw.

 

38. The Manchurian Candidate (1962) - John Frankenheimer 

There are some movies that leave you speechless after you watch them. John Frankenheimer’s Manchurian Candidate was one of them. What sets this apart is that even knowing the shock or twist of it, I am constantly roped back in. This is more than a twist ending, and to be honest I’m not even sure it’s that much of a twist. 24 years of watching it has maybe diminished the initial shock factor. How they constructed a shot that changes from a ladies garden party to a communist lecture on brain washing without cutting is still remarkable. Henry Silva is less Korean than I am, but it is Hollywood in 1962, they thought Obi Wan Kenobi was Arab. Different time man. Frankenheimer emerged as one of the major new filmmakers coming from the land of television. It beautifully sets up the loosening censorship and the experimental nature that Hollywood would go towards through the decade.

 

37. Ordinary People (1980) - Robert Redford 

Most of us with some skin in the cinema game have movies on our watch lists. Occasionally a few of these seem like chores, stuff you gotta get through but aren’t necessarily looking forward to. It is tempting when looking through the list of best picture Oscar winners to see Ordinary People and want to skip it. Quite a few people watched it simply out of curiosity, after all what film could have possibly beaten Martin Scorsese’s Raging Bull? Well this is maybe the 5th time I’ve watched Robert Redford’s directorial debut and every god damn time it gets me. I find myself a fragile emotional mess and wonder how it holds up so well. You can tell that Judith Guest (who wrote the novel it was adapted from) had actually seen a therapist because this movie gets depression better than every film before it. Sure I get a kick out of seeing what a town I worked in looked like 40 years ago, but it is mainly the astonishingly good performances. It might seem like a cliche but Pachelbel’s Canon is still possibly the finest piece of music ever written.

36. Lawrence of Arabia (1962) - David Lean

David Lean’s 1962 masterpiece was one of the first 5 classic films that got me hooked on cinema. An epic on a grand scale it is a remarkable film of a great director really getting to make the movie of his dreams. As many great passion projects it went ludicrously over budget and over schedule, but the final product was so worth it. Lean used his editing background to deliver perhaps the most iconic single edit in film history with our first shot of the desert. Peter O’Toole shockingly made his debut here, and despite a legendary career spanning decades, he was never better. There are certainly things about Lawrence that seem impossible today, from its location photography, pacing, practical battles, and the fact that so many non-Arabs are in the cast. However can you get a better Prince Feisal than Mr. Genuine Class himself Alec Guiness? It is the rare intersection of art and commerce that has made Lawrence endure. Perhaps it’s my own bias but I don’t think I even registered the first 6 times I saw this that there doesn’t appear to be a single female anywhere in the near 4 hour run time. Maurice Jarre contributes the most iconic music in a Hollywood epic since Max Steiner’s Gone with the Wind score. 

 

35. City of God (2002) - Fernando Meirelles/Katia Lund 

Sometimes a movie is a no-doubter right off the bat. I saw City of God in the theater, instantly thought it was the film of the year, and 20 years later it’s still sitting on my list. It might be a bit simplistic to say this is a Brazilian Goodfellas, but if Henry Hill were just some guy in the neighborhood it would check out. Rocket tells a story stretched from the 60s to early 80s of life in the “City of God” projects of Rio, and it’s just brilliant. Things move at a rapid pace and never do you feel lost or that there’s too much being thrown at you. Co-directors Fernando Meirelles and Katia Lund are able to distill an entire subculture down into a two hour film. Seems a shame Lund didn’t make too many solo efforts after this because Meirelles’ later work never came close to this. Their powers combined though absolutely knocked it out of the park and what I would consider the single greatest South American movie ever made.

 

34. Psycho (1960) - Alfred Hitchcock 

Whenever I put together the massive list of re-watches for a project like this I inevitably find myself with an absurd number of Alfred Hitchcock movies. Somehow knowing when it’s all over with Psycho will be the one left standing. It has been my favorite since the first viewing, and it still is. One of the few times the master of suspense seemed to delve head first into horror, it utilized his TV crew and a significantly smaller budget than usual. He shattered a few conventions and helped establish a few others. Screenwriter Joseph Stefano was clearly very into psychoanalysis at the time, and much of the psychology is Freud for dummies. He insisted on the exposition dump at the end which is one of the few misses this one makes. The rest of it is just a brilliant accumulation of details, twists, and shocks that still pack a punch. I can’t imagine another film I’d love to go back in time to see for the first time, knowing nothing. Anthony Perkins was so good as Norman Bates he never really escaped the role in his later years. You know you got something when entire generations are scared of taking a shower after watching this.

 

33. Sunset Boulevard (1950) - Billy Wilder

There are plenty of great movie battles we’ve had over the last century. Sometimes it’s stars, sometimes directors, but the best to debate are always the common theme-same year battles. Both Sunset Boulevard and All About Eve were in a hotly contested best picture race and both their older leading ladies were neck and neck for best actress. Judy Holiday played spoiler on both and won for Born Yesterday and Mankiewicz got the better of Wilder in the director and picture race. It’s hard to feel bad for Billy Wilder who has two best pictures/director combos himself, but he definitely made the better film in 1950. Sunset Boulevard begins like a great pulpy film noir and somehow morphs into one of the most cynical and bitter insider movies we’re likely to see. It is part Hollywood history lesson, part cautionary tale, and just so damn good. The script is damn near perfect, but the style is everything. So many deep focus compositions, so many classic images, and one of those famous closing lines even people who have never seen the movie before instantly recognize. I may have told this story before but this film will always remind me why my love of film is just a little different from others. My first day of Film and Society, which technically was my first college film course, arrived and I got there early. I met the teacher outside of class and struck up a general conversation. She said we would be watching Sunset Boulevard the first night and asked if I had seen it. I replied “Of course, several times, hasn’t everybody?” Well after attendance and syllabus things were done my teacher asked the now full class the same question if they had seen the movie. I was the only hand that was raised.

 

32. Seven Samurai (1954) - Akira Kurosawa 

There are a number of classics that seem truly undeniable. Movies that are so good you know 5-10 minutes in that this one is something special. Quite a few of those movies are on this list, and Seven Samurai absolutely belongs in that conversation. The fact that it manages to stand out amongst a very impressive filmography is even more impressive. There are no shortage of great Kurosawa movies, but this was his best. It helped redefine and re-invigorate the samurai film, and spawned so many imitators. The entire epic is a masterclass in editing and proof positive that there are no great movies that are “too long”. Not sure if the credit is all due him, but it was one of the first historical Japanese films to incorporate some comic relief, perhaps not to the extent of Ford but certainly not the austere period films of the past. Summing up great action, class struggle, and his entire humanist philosophy, Seven Samurai speaks volumes.

 

31. Tree of Life (2011) - Terrence Malick 

It is entirely possible Tree of Life would still be in my top 10 if Terence Malick never made another movie after it. After averaging a film a decade, he suddenly unlocked a cheat code with this and made as many movies in the 2010s as the forty years before. When Tree of Life ventures beyond the story and tackles outer space and the beginning of life I was transfixed in much the same way the final act of 2001 mesmerizes me. When we returned to the story and Emmanuel Lubezki’s camera that never ceases moving, I started to feel cheated. This exact same formula would pop up in his next four films and lose its impact. Watching Tree of Life for the first time I thought someone had achieved nirvana in cinematic form. I could say this is why I often have a reluctance to put newer films high on my list, it takes some time to decipher what the lasting impression was. Now however we can finally watch the expanded version with all of those Sean Penn scenes re-inserted, which can be more of a good thing or dead weight depending on who you ask. Whenever Malick is done making films for good, this will probably be remembered as the lynchpin for his career, where he seemed to figure it all out.

 

 

30. Passion of Joan of Arc (1928) - Carl Theodor Dreyer 

Until his dying breath Carl Theodor Dreyer insisted his 1928 masterpiece was not an avant-garde art film but was populist cinema. There is little indication throughout his career that Dreyer could have made a popular film if he tried. Does it matter in the end? Of course not, this is a masterpiece and a remarkable bit of celluloid. Told almost entirely through close-ups and medium shots it has a few thousand more cuts than his later movies like Gertrud and Ordet. It’s hard to imagine the same person making these films. Despite the heavy influence of Soviet cinema, Eisenstein himself said this was more a collection of images than kino. Well it doesn’t matter how you describe it or what category it fits into, it’s simply one of the greatest works of art the 20th century produced. Smarter people than me have literally written books on Dreyer’s construction, style, and editing, so what can I add to the discourse? Suffice to say, no amount of style could carry a film that didn’t have a foundation of a compelling story and an all-time great performance anchoring the whole thing.

 

29. Napoléon (1927) - Abel Gance 

God bless Kevin Brownlow. The man has been a silent film junkie for decades and has made it his life’s work to restore Abel Gance’s Napoleon to its original length as best he can. This task he has undertaken since 1969, only emerging with this full 5 ½ hour version a couple years ago. Simply put this full version wasn’t even available to me the last time I made this list, certainly not on blu-ray with an impressive audio commentary track. Like many pretentious silent films it is questionable which version is the “definitive” edition, but the BFI restoration is clearly the most complete in existence. So much innovation, so many wild chances, and it feels still like Gance was inventing a new medium as he went along. Staggering to think he meant for this to be the first of 6 movies on Napoleon. See kids, even in 1927 people were planning franchises before they even released the first movie. Luckily for us, Gance put a career’s worth of cinematic marvels into this single film. I look forward to being substantially unimpressed with Ridley Scott’s biopic due this year, I’m sure it will win 10 Oscars.

28. Goodfellas (1990) - Martin Scorsese 

A decade ago I made what seemed like a bold choice to name this my favorite Scorsese film. That choice doesn’t quite seem so odd anymore, but over the last decade I began to wonder if my exuberance was justified. Maybe it doesn’t hold up as well as I thought, maybe it might not even make the list at all. Well by the time grown-up Henry Hill shows up, there was no doubt that this wasn’t going anywhere. Yeah it drives me absolutely insane that Karen’s rapey neighbor lets himself get pistol whipped without making any effort whatsoever to protect his face or fight back, but that is a minor gripe in an otherwise perfect film. Few movies ever move as quickly and are so compulsively rewatchable. It’s not necessarily that every viewing reveals more details and depth, it’s just that it’s so damn good why wouldn’t you want to return to it over and over again. This is cinematic comfort food, a big plate of lasagna if you will. It represents a perfection of craft from one of our greatest storytellers. Even Scorsese himself has dipped back into the same well to use those same techniques with Casino, The Departed, Wolf of Wall Street, and even The Irishman, hey when it ain’t broke right?

 

27. La Dolce Vita (1960) - Federico Fellini

Three Italian movies from 1960 are on this list. Visconti may have channeled the past, and Antonioni spoke for the time, but Fellini was out here in 2060. Narratively it was his last seemingly straight forward film for years, but its subject matter was made for today. A social circle where no one seems to ever do any work and a peripheral community that wants to follow every detail. This is the kind of chance you take after two Academy awards and a lot of money. La Dolce Vita is more of a collection of episodes than any straightforward story. Some speculate it is based on the creation myth, with each sequence representing a different day. There is something to that, because this does seem to be everything.

 

26. Blue Velvet (1986) - David Lynch 

Can you believe the first time I watched this movie I didn’t love it because it wasn’t weird enough? It follows a long tradition of directors finding their voice/style. Sure Eraserhead established that Lynch was truly one of a kind, and Elephant Man brought some Academy attention. After the failure of Dune, Lynch seemed to find his footing, and the rest is history as they say. He helped give Kyle Maclaughlin another shot at stardom, while handing Dennis Hopper the role of a lifetime. Still blows my mind he got nominated that year….for Hoosiers. Oh well not the first time the Academy was clueless. All the markings of Twin Peaks are here, the strangeness, the surface normalcy, and some sweet Angelo Badalamenti music. Narratively speaking it remains Lynch’s best work, with the weirdness on the fringes and in the characters rather than just confusing everyone. Can anyone ever order a Heinekin without hearing Frank Booth in their head?