Essential Cinema: Third Tier “This May Get Complicated”

Well another blog, another tier. Welcome to part three of our four part essential cinema countdown. As with other installments this list has been edited up to and including the time of me typing this. Some great films that I thought absolutely had to be on this list have been cut to make way for other films that had to be on this list even more. I know it’s silly but what can you do?

While having dinner with my family this evening they were asking about the list. Everyone threw out countless films that “for sure had to be on there” to which I shook my head no. Sometimes it was a film from a director who was otherwise represented. Maybe a genre film that was represented elsewhere, but more often than not it was just left off because well, there are only so many spots.

Now back to the first post, if there are more than 100 essential films why limit yourself? Well I didn’t exactly limit myself to 100. Like the NSFC list, I grouped a couple of similar films together. I don’t think there are any outright ridiculous pairings, but well they cheated so I will as well. Yet as I mentioned before when you start extending beyond those 100 film parameters everything starts to break down, and well nearly every film can be essential by some criteria.

I realized I could have made a few people happy (mainly myself) if I left out all documentary films, but well they have their place and I already said I’d include a couple. That said I by no means can hope to encapsulate all facets of documentary filmmaking here, and well that’s an entire other list of essentials, so my apologies in advance if documentaries are treated more as a genre than a type of film. At the very least the few representatives are closer to fiction films and help to blur that gap between the two, serving as you will as a gateway towards non-fiction film. In other words start here, and you’re on your own for all your documentary needs.

As originally advertised this tier is a little larger than the previous two. Here are what some people might call the “real” greatest films of all time. Their inclusion on so low a tier doesn’t mean they are lacking in quality in any way, just that some films benefit from context more than others. After I saw Pulp Fiction I watched Apocalypse Now, and although I liked it, the ending went right over my head and it wasn’t until later viewings that it started to come together a bit for me, and now well let’s just say it’s on my short list of favorite films ever. Same can be said for such other epics as Lawrence of Arabia or such critical darlings like Battleship Potemkin, Rules of the Game, and Sunrise among others.

So to put it plainly, I think you’re ready for it. Now if you’ve followed my advice and seen all the films on the first two tiers already then you have all my blessings in the world. This next batch should be easy for you. Some films may still seem difficult, or in some cases even “boring” or at the very least confusing. It’s ok these are all tried and true tested masterpieces. Sure you can see 10,000 movies and still find a few of these overrated, that’s inescapable. No matter how much acclaim a movie has gotten it’s still possible to look like crap to you personally. All of us have these films that we just don’t “get” or can’t figure out how it’s so well respected. Even a few of these overrated films are on my list. I intended from the start to make this list as objective as possible, so yeah if this was my personal list I can tell you a few films wouldn’t be on it, and you’re probably think I was a snotty, esoteric, elitist jack ass who didn’t know anything about great cinema. Point is these films are all worthy entries, but you personally might be more impressed with some than others.

So enough forewarning. I may have coddled you in past blog entries, but you’re going headfirst into the fire this time. Tackle this bunch of films and you’ll be ready for anything, from 15 hour multi-part epics, to some of Andy Warhol’s never ending static shot “movies”, to Stan Brakhage’s intricate light shows. This is the advanced stage. Some of these films are more accessible than others, and I guarantee a few will seem extremely easy to digest. They aren’t all torturous art films designed for the intellectual elite, hell I’d wager to guess even the greenest among you have seen one or two of these already. I’ve pretty much neglected any sort of order to these films, watch them as you find them or go chronologically if that suits you better.

Third Tier

2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) - Dir. Stanley Kubrick

Fat chance in hell I’d leave lord and master Stanley Kubrick off this list. If it were up to me he’d have a nice handful of films as I find nearly all of his movies personal essentials. However objective me is saying 2001 is the film above all others that must be watched. Reading between the lines I’ll say watch ‘em all, but sometimes even among a host of masterpieces one stands out in a truly profound and significant way. My words of advice, just watch the film. Don’t try to dissect it, don’t attempt to figure out it’s ending as it unfolds just allow it to come over you. Repeat viewings help but well the first time I ever saw this I sat in a daze staring at my TV unable to move or speak for damn near an hour. There aren’t a lot of films that can do that to a person.

Nanook of the North (1922) - Dir. Robert Flaherty

When it comes to documentaries, Robert Flaherty is largely considered the father of them all. Truth be told the earliest films pretty much were all documentaries, so it’s origins are as old as cinema itself. Flaherty was a showman however, and while living and breathing with his subjects he often took to historical flights of fancy which made for better cinema. Many a documentarian after him ascribed to the same brash showmanship (Michael Moore anyone?) but well in 1922 when this film was made the whole concept of a feature length documentary was unheard of. It can be argued that Man of Aran or even The Louisiana Story might be better films, but you’d be hard pressed to find a documentary more important than this.

Talk to Her (2001) - Dir. Pedro Almodovar

I’m sorry it took so damn long to get to this century, my sincere apologies. The world of Almodovar is unique to say the least. Anytime someone new is introduced to his bizarre and sordid cinematic world I love to be around because no two people seem to react the same. Talk to Her was part of his more “mature” phase that followed after the tremendous success of All About My Mother. This film even won him a best original screenplay Oscar. For my money, and many other people Talk to Her is Almodovar’s best film. For decades now he has been Spain’s most famous cinematic export, and all of his films get distributed here in the US and all he needs to sell them is his last name. Talk to Her creatively and artistically is possibly his peak, and perhaps diving headfirst into his zanier early work, check this out, however be prepared for something a little different.

Apocalypse Now (1979) - Dir. Francis Ford Coppola

This film is almost as well known for the utter catastrophe of it’s production than the movie itself (brilliantly documented in Heart of Darkness). Coppola’s Vietnam odyssey started as an adaptation of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness but as shooting dragged on and more and more complications arose the film started to evolve and take on a life of it’s own. Some people who were in the war objected to the film, but it wasn’t so much about Vietnam, but was Vietnam as Coppola himself famously put it. After a brilliant opening the film takes a pretty standard war mission approach until you get to a point where you’re about ready for a final confrontation. Then it deteriorates completely into insanity and if you’re hoping for coherence and closure this is where the film will lose you, if you happily subject yourself to the ride then be prepared for cinema of the most bizarre and brilliant nature.

Blue Velvet (1986)/Mulholland Drive (2001) - Dir. David Lynch

Did someone say bizarre? Welcome to the world of David Lynch our generations foremost cinematic surrealist and damn near the most brilliant and innovative artist to emerge from the last several decades. From his first feature Eraserhead, Lynch has been a cult idol to countless film lovers. Blue Velvet to me is the best example of everything indicative of a “Lynch” film. It incorporates his predominant obsession with the seedy side of suburban living, a dreamlike narrative that still maintains perfect coherence. Disturbing in an exhilarating way for many this was the peak of his cinematic prowess. Mulholland Drive is a perfect place to go afterwards, and I admit a bit of “cheating” grouping these two together. Mulholland Drive was voted the best film of the past decade and it’s dreamlike narrative is far looser than Blue Velvet and much less coherent. It all does make sense with maybe a few viewings and a little bit of research but like several other films on this list, just enjoy the ride. Seeing how Lynch has vowed to go all digital in future films, this also serves as something of a conclusion to Lynch on celluloid, and arguably this is his best looking film.

Chungking Express (1994) - Dir. Wong Kar-Wai

For decades Hong Kong cinema was principally known for action. Even Wong started out in this vein with his first film As Tears Go By, but it was clear even from that first offering that this wasn’t going to be another John Woo or Tsui Hark. While directing the problematic action epic Ashes of Time, Wong and crew took a brief break. It was during this short interval that he made Chungking Express. Shot without any real script in an extremely short time it has the improvisational feel of the earlier French New Wave films with a style all it’s own and has served as perhaps Wong’s most definitive film. A welcome alternative to the usual Hong Kong flair, this isn’t entirely without action, but well calling this an action film would be laughably missing the point.

Vertigo (1958) - Dir. Alfred Hitchcock

In 2002 Sight and Sound released their every-decade poll of the greatest films of all time and many people were a little surprised to see a new number 2. That film second only to Citizen Kane was Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo. When it was first released the film was largely dismissed as a lesser and forgettable effort from the master, no better than The Wrong Man, The Trouble with Harry, Stage Fright, or I Confess. In the 70s, British critic and historian Robin Wood made the wild claim that it might be Hitchcock’s masterpiece. He was prepared to defend his seemingly ridiculous choice, but since then more and more people started to come around. As a tale of personal obsession and the ultimate personification of a real life Svengali it isn’t the most “entertaining” of Hitch’s oeuvre. Stylistically it may very well be his finest hour, from the opening credits (again courtesy of Saul Bass) to it’s brilliant score, San Francisco location photography, dizzying camera tricks, from opening to close it is visually as exciting as any film you’re likely to see. Personally I have my problems with the film, but I won’t deny that it isn’t very well worth watching.

Persona (1966) - Dir. Ingmar Bergman

When art house cinema was en vogue in the 50s and 60s few directors were more esteemed and respected than Ingmar Bergman. It seems outrageous to think that by the mid-60s most people thought he was washed up and his best days behind him. After another failed marriage, a poorly received comedy, and a self imposed exile it was assumed that he would never again reach the heights of The Seventh Seal, Wild Strawberries, or The Virgin Spring. Then he came out with Persona, his simplest and most profound film of his career. With Bibi Andersen and Liv Ullman he created a profound, slightly surreal, incredibly intimate drama of two women whose bond together grows into something metaphysical. It’s hard to describe this film in terms of plot points but from it’s brilliant de-constructive opening it’s clear Bergman was far from finished. Instead he produced what many (myself included) consider to be the finest film of his career.

Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927) - Dir. F. W. Murnau

When critics of the time were convinced that sound would destroy the art of cinema, this is what they were talking about. By 1927 silent cinema as an art form had reached it’s creative peak. With Murnau’s films the camera was free to roam and every cinematic tool previously established was available to tell a story. Keeping his film as simple as possible with character names like “The Man”, “His Wife”, and “The Woman from the City”. The story is as simple as it is beautiful, and in terms of the poetry and artistry of the silent film this was arguably the highest high point. Murnau who was brought over from Germany was given complete control on this project but when the film after receiving critical acclaim failed to return as much commercially his subsequent films had much more studio oversight before his early death while making Tabu, a collaboration with the aforementioned Robert Flaherty. Considering his German career included such well regarded masterpieces as Nosferatu, The Last Laugh, and Faust saying this was his masterpiece is high praise indeed.

Tokyo Story (1953) - Dir. Yasujiro Ozu

If you love explosions, car chases, hot sex scenes, gore, and rapid dialogue laced with profanity than Yasujiro Ozu might very well be your favorite director ever. Ok, hopefully you didn’t stop reading there and run out to see Tokyo Story, because anyone who knows Ozu would probably be laughing hysterically at my first sentence. Ozu is an acquired taste. That doesn’t mean your first reaction to his work would be to flee and run away in bored terror. It just means that with age, repeat viewings you’ll slowly start to see just how inexplicably brilliant the simplest gestures and dialogue can be in a film. Amongst a long career that included many high points, Tokyo Story is the film for which Ozu will best be remembered. Borrowing its plot from Leo McCarey’s little seen but brilliant Make Way for Tomorrow it tells of an old couple who finds themselves an unwanted burden to their loving but ultimately unhelpful children. Many of Ozu’s family dramas focused on the young and their relation to the old, but in this case the story largely centers around the old, and not having their young children leave them, but more of the struggle of them being put out to pasture largely. Explosions aside, I’ll say this is a damn sight better than any Michael Bay movie you may poison your eyes with.

The Rules of the Game (1939) - Dir. Jean Renoir

Since the very first Sight and Sound Poll in 1952, only two films have ever appeared on every single list and this is one of them. Renoir’s final film before World War II was the culmination of a decade in which he delivered nothing but gold. No director besides possibly Kurosawa in the 50s had such an impressive decade of dominance. Renoir was at his peak and was still fresh off his American breakthrough after The Grand Illusion (an equally essential film) became the first foreign language film nominated for a best picture Academy Award. Rules of the Game on paper tells the story of a bunch of rich antiquated aristocrats who spend the weekend in a large chateau in the country, but with any film this praised it’s a lot more than that. Equally parts hilarious and tragic this remains the culmination of not just Renoir but a brilliant French film industry whose growth was severely stunted by a little asshole named Hitler.

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

It’s a shame to include a French film to help stand in for all the great Scandinavian silent films that are so important yet often very hard to come by. Carl Theodor Dreyer was Denmark’s greatest director who spent the 20s keeping very busy and producing an extremely diverse portfolio. It would blow people’s minds familiar with his four principle sound films to go back and watch this film because you wouldn’t even remotely be able to recognize the director’s style. Known for extremely long takes and a slow pace, the short running time, extremely short ASL (average shot length) and frantic tension of Passion would seem like it came from another world by comparison. Before the “talkies” came Hollywood had a great many reason to fear European cinema. A great many countries banded together to help make this film and the result was considered at the time to be quite possibly the best film yet made. As language differences forced European films to play to smaller and smaller domestic markets this remained but a glimpse of what could have been. It still packs a punch and remains a sacred treasure of the cinema.

The Apu Trilogy: Pather Panchali (1955), Aparajito (1957), The World of Apu (1959) - Dir. Satyajit Ray

It seems ironic that the best known Indian film in the West would be one of the most atypical films to come out of that nation. Today India is the largest producer of film in the world, and we all know of those lavish operatic epics filled with colorful costumes and endless singing and dancing. In the 50s an alternative emerged, filmed in the Bengali language associated with more rural provinces and centered around Calcutta it represented a remarkable alternative to the Hindi Bollywood product. Satyajit Ray became an internationally acclaimed auteur on par with Kurosawa, Fellini, and Bergman following the release of this trilogy which for many people outside of India was their first glimpse into Indian cinema, however atypical it might have been. Ray’s films owed more to the Italian neo-realist movement than domestic product, borrowing heavily from it’s literary source. If you need a little extra indication of it’s influence Matt Groening admitted that the Apu character from the Simpsons was named after the title character in this trilogy (although there is nothing about a convenience store cashier in this film so just to let you know).

Pulp Fiction (1994) - Dir. Quentin Tarantino

I know what you’re thinking, finally a damn film I’ve heard of. Well for many a learned cinephile the films mentioned here should be as well known as the collected plays of William Shakespeare to an English major. Ok now there isn’t anything too esoteric about this film, and some of you might think it’s accessible enough to have gone in one of the first two tiers (or insignificant enough to be saved for the fourth, or ignored entirely). Well in 1994 people were a little confused with it’s chronology. It doesn’t take long to figure out the order of events but it certainly caught a few people off guard at first. The influence of this film is still being sorted out and I wonder if any independent American film hasn’t borrowed or stolen from it in some capacity. Its so good that it even makes later Tarantino films feel like they’re plagiarizing a bit from it. Hell if you’re one of the 10 people who haven’t seen this film stop being ignorant and take care of that already, I’m not going to sit here and justify it’s inclusion here.

Rashomon (1950) - Dir. Akira Kurosawa

For an extremely long time Japan was a very foreign and very exotic little island. Most Americans didn’t know anything about Japan until called upon to fight them in WWII. Following the war and an occupation Japanese cinema was still a large mystery outside of the island. When Rashomon was picked as something of a throwaway film for the Venice Film Festival no one expected it to win the top honors. In 1951 it even garnered attention from the Academy Awards and suddenly there was a vogue for all things Japanese cinema. Through Rashomon people started to discover Kenji Mizoguchi, Ozu, Kon Ichikawa, and scores of others. This was the film that really broke down the wall between east and west cinema considering that very little of all Asian film was known in the west. Say what you will about the film or even Kurosawa but who knows what if anything we’d know today about that golden age of 50s Japanese cinema if it weren’t for this.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) - Dir. Robert Weine

Many people have heard the term Expressionism brandied about in relations to art and cinema without having a clear cut understanding of what it really is. Rather than offer any dictionary definition, I’d just say watch Caligari. No film, or piece of art for that matter is more representative of the style than this. It is also considered by many to be the first truly great horror film, and any aficionado of the genre will no doubt recognize the importance of this early gem. It goes along with a recurring theme throughout history that often times a defeated nation in a war can produce the best films immediately afterwards. The films hand painted sets might seem like a gimmick but they were done almost more out of necessity than anything else, but they certainly made the most of them.

The Man With a Movie Camera (1929) - Dir. Dziga Vertov

Another silent film? You guessed it. Few nations ever embraced a concept like montage as readily as the Soviet Union did. Dziga Vertov was a politically motivated documentarian that spent the decade filming in remote provinces as part of his landmark Kino-Eye series. This film was a feature that at the time might have recalled the “city symphonies” a odd subgenre exclusive to the silent film, but far outlasted and outshined all similar films. Less geared towards Communist aims this film is his least political and most brilliant. At it’s core it is a feature length demonstration of rapidly advanced editing techniques. A film that would be impossible a few years later and well you still wonder just how the hell it was done at all. For what montage was all about you’ll find no greater representation. This film has no plot to speak of but it certainly doesn’t need it, I dare you to be bored while watching it.

Metropolis (1927) - Dir. Fritz Lang

It seems no matter what science fiction film comes out it owes a debt to Metropolis. Long since public domain the film has been released in so very many awful incarnations (remember the 80s re-release with original music from Loverboy?). Recent years have brought some much needed integrity back to the picture. Back in 2003 a restored version was released, and a few years later even more lost footage was found. Today the film is as good if not better than it was when initially released and it remains the crowning achievement from the once prominent Ufa studios in Germany, before America took away all their best talent. Lang certainly made a few more gems, but in terms of scope an influence this would remain his longest lasting contribution to cinema. Amazing to think how iconic the film has been even in a butchered state, now that it’s back to it’s original glory (or as close as it’ll get anyways) the film just seems that much more extraordinary.

Lawrence of Arabia (1962) - Dir. David Lean

It’s rare when a big budget Hollywood epic is also an art film. After years of pumping out glorious Technicolor epics designed to dwarf the films shown on television, Columbia pictures decided to make Lawrence of Arabia. Given the helm was David Lean, fresh off his Oscar for Bridge on the River Kwai. Like Apocalypse Now this production would prove extremely problematic and would take infinitely longer than anyone would have anticipated. The wait was worth it because Lean brought back the epic to end all epics and arguably the best film ever photographed in color. An introspective epic that isn’t short on large scale battles it is at it’s core a complicated character piece of a complicated character. It seems even more modern epics turn up the CGI and forget things like character development. There are moments in this film where you simply feel lost in the enormity of it and realize you’re witnessing a one of a kind gem. Not the easiest epic to digest as one friend referred to it as a four hour movie about sand, but well worth the time and as good a Hollywood product as you’ll find, one that will never be duplicated.

Andrei Rublev (1966) - Dir. Andrei Tarkovsky

When looking at the original NSFC list I didn’t really complain about what was excluded. After all the list should be more about what’s included rather than what got left out. However the fact that there was no Tarkovsky seemed like a glaring oversight that needed some justification. A filmmaker of enormous importance whose style is uniquely singular yet an inspiration to countless European auteurs. His films are mesmerizing in their scope and execution. From the films opening sequences of flying it’s clear that Tarkovsky is at least figuratively operating on another plane here. A near 4 hour epic about an iconic Russian painter this isn’t the type of film that screams masterpiece, but along with his subsequent films Solaris and The Mirror it is one of the supreme testaments to European cinema. It seemed like a bold statement to declare Tarkovsky the greatest director to come from the Soviet Union, but the more I watch his films the more I stand behind that remark, and this is his first unquestionable masterpiece and arguably his greatest.

M (1931) - Dir. Fritz Lang

It might seem overkill to have two Fritz Lang films on this list, that is at least until you see both films. Lang often referred to M as his greatest film and watching it today you can still see why. It’s nowhere near the scope of some of his silent films, and this was his first venture into sound, treacherous waters for many a great director. However Lang made the most of it and employed arguably the creepiest offscreen whistling of all time. Showing his horror largely through cutaways, editing, shadows, and juxtaposition it’s a film about a serial killer that doesn’t show the killer until long into the film and actually makes him seem sympathetic. One of the last great German films before Hitler came to power this was Lang arguably at his best. It might not have the pop culture influence of Metropolis but myself and others would probably say this is the better film, and absolute must.

8 ½ (1963) - Dir. Federico Fellini

Well here’s another repeat offender on our list. Fellini can be debated as Italy’s greatest director, but his influence and stature in his time far surpassed any of his countrymen. 8 ½ was the second film of his in a row to earn him a best director nomination from the Academy (he won neither time go figure), but this is one of those films that virtually every director would point to as an all time favorite. The film blends reality with dream, fantasy with flashback so seamlessly that it doesn’t even seem to matter which is which by the end, and I’ve never been quite sure about that final sequence. 8 ½ is also bittersweet because after this Fellini would go on in a similar direction for the remainder of his career and for those who fell in love with his films La Strada, Nights of Cabiria, or even La Dolce Vita would never forgive him for it. This is the ultimate in autobiographical surrealistic art house extravaganza and quite possibly the best foreign film ever made.

The Battleship Potemkin (1925) - Dir. Sergei Eisenstein

When I mentioned Rules of the Game being one of two films on every Sight and Sound poll, this was the other. Eisenstein was recognized as master in his day and was the figurehead of the highly innovative and still influential Soviet montage school. Potemkin was his second film, commissioned on the 20th anniversary of the incident depicted and it was one of those rare brilliant marriages of propaganda and art, and one of the few films he produced that the government actually approved of. An incredibly powerful film that easily puts you on the side of the mutineers as well as the civilians supporting their cause it will forever be known for it’s massacre sequence on the steps of Odessa. Film textbooks break this down shot for shot and nearly everyone whose taken a film class has probably had to sit through it. Even if you haven’t you’ll recognize it’s enormous list of cinematic homages from The Untouchables to the Simpsons.

L’Avventura (1960) - Dir. Michelangelo Antonioni

Along with La Dolce Vita this film marked a crucial turning point in Italian cinema in 1960. The film angered people like no other when it first appeared on the international festival circuit. Antonioni turned his focus the over-privileged spoiled upper class, and had the audacity not to offer any sort of closure at the films conclusion. This film may still anger you when it’s all over, but once you get used to Antonioni it’ll seem like the rule rather than the exception. It’s a mystery where the mystery isn’t terribly important at all, and it’s more about the people involved. It is a seminal film that severed the ties from what came before it dramatically and ushered in a whole new world of Italian cinema where filmmakers like Francisco Rosi, Bernardo Bertolucci, Marco Bellocchio, and of course Pier Paolo Passolini could establish a new kind of Italian cinema.

Fourth Tier is coming soon, and just for the record it’s “all of the above” so don’t think it’s necessarily lesser films by any stretch. So if you haven’t seen a particular favorite by the end of that list, then feel free to email me and complain.

Essential Cinema: Second Tier “Let’s get serious”

Ok first things first, what blog entry of mine would be complete without an opening apology? Unlike nearly every other entry where I apologize for my periods of non-activity, here I felt I needed to clear something. The first tier was for what may be construed as mindless Hollywood entertainment. Films that don’t really even need justification to be on such a list. Movies that transcend a genre or really any representational banner. That said there were a few reasons why I specifically excluded foreign films from that first grouping and allow me to try and justify my actions here.

Many years ago I got into cinema. I started with Casablanca, then proceeded to watch every damn film on the American Film Institute’s top 100. It wasn’t until this entire project was done that I began to look towards foreign films. Part of my problem was that I didn’t really know where to start. People will look at you funny if you haven’t seen Star Wars or the Wizard of Oz. “Everyone” knows The Godfather, Singin’ in the Rain, and Psycho are great films but what about foreign films. There aren’t really any consensus greatest foreign films lurking in our cultural lexicon. Perhaps 50 years ago names like Fellini, Bergman, and Godard were hip to the general public, but well that was 50 years ago. For this reason I couldn’t include any foreign films in this top tier even if I wasn’t specifically excluding them for purposes of neophyte accessibility. There is no foreign equivalent to Casablanca, The Godfather, or Gone With the Wind.

Even the foreign films listed in the Sight and Sound poll are suspect. These are some seriously esoteric films. If I told someone to make sure Potemkin, Rules of the Game, and Tokyo Story were among the first 10 or so films you watched if you were just getting into cinema they’d probably run away screaming to the latest Adam Sandler film (ok we all know no one is going to actually see Jack and Jill, so let’s just say they watch Happy Gilmour for the 20th time). I’m not saying I’m ignoring these films, or even neglecting them, I just believe that the order shouldn’t necessarily be “greatest to least important” but one of accessibility. You don’t give someone Animal Farm to read and then tell them to finish War and Peace the next week.

So with that, welcome to the second tier. There are a few more films than the first tier, in fact as of typing this paragraph, 4 more. 5 of these 12 films are foreign films so alas we are saved. Now I debated for quite awhile which films to put in this category. After all I went much longer before watching foreign films, but I feel you’re ready for it. You’ve gotten over your fear of musicals, you’ve been able to watch a couple of films that meet or exceed the three hour mark, you’ve realized that Star Wars isn’t just some dumb movie for nerds, and even managed to sit through a film that may or may not have scared the crap out of you. Perhaps most important of all, and the reason why The Gold Rush was the last film, you got used to the idea of reading while watching a movie. The language of cinema is universal, and you didn’t really miss a beat watching Chaplin in all his glory did you? Who needs sound anyways? Well to me silent cinema and foreign films seem like cousins, not too far removed from one another and if you can handle one, then the other should be no problem.

So the other idea behind this list is that you can brace yourself for films that might not be rosy rays of sunshine. In other words some of the best, most important, and essential films are dramas and sometimes heartbreaking ones. So this list might seem like the “real” first tier to some of you, but well I held off here. Now because of this forewarning you may think “good heavens I’m going to be so depressed watching these films” and remove your fear because that won’t be the case. Not all of these films are depressing and some are downright uplifting at certain points. I’m also starting to assume that with that little bit of work you did with the first tier that certain wonders and marvels of cinematic form can start to be noticeable. In other words the noteworthy aspects of some of these films won’t be entirely lost upon you because now you have a frame of reference.

The second tier is not exactly in alphabetical order so there is a slight progression to this tier. So anyways, I ramble and often wonder who reads these extended preambles anyways, so onto the list already:

Second Tier

Citizen Kane (1941) - Dir. Orson Welles

Well, well, well Mr. Thinks-this-is-the-greatest-film-ever how could you have left this out of the first tier. Clearly there is no more essential film ever made than Kane? 9/10 critics will probably tell you if you could only watch one movie in your lifetime this would be it. Considered by countless sources to be the greatest film ever for decades now, yet you’re putting it in the second tier, what the hell for? Ok slow down, Kane is for all intents and purposes the greatest film ever made, the same way the Beatles were the greatest band of all time. Your personal favorite might be different but it’s hard to argue with the status. The reason I put this is in the second tier is one of context. I give you Sgt. Pepper’s and tell you this is the greatest album ever you might say “ok that was good, but what of it?” Now if you hear a few of the albums around it, such as the Beatles earlier records, and some albums from the Stones, Kinks, Who, Beach Boys, etc all of a sudden it might start to make sense just how much of a revelation the album was. The greatness of Kane could easily be lost upon someone who was starting off their film odyssey with it. The same reason that nearly anyone who was forced to watch this in an introduction to film class and write a 10 page paper on it probably hates the film and thinks it’s overrated. Being force fed greatness will come with a large dose of resistance even fool-heartedly. I didn’t think this was the greatest film ever the first time I saw it, but I knew it was a damn good one. So if you approach this film thinking it will be a damn good movie, you will be very pleased. However if you watch it expecting to hear the voice of God and experience a cosmic enlightenment you may find yourself a bit disappointed. So I held it off for the second tier hoping that after seeing some of the very best films, you may be able to appreciate the top of the list. If I held it off too much longer though the expectation would only mount again leading to eventual let down. So watch it, watch it again, watch a documentary or two about it, and then watch it again, and hell you might just agree with me an a lot of other film snobs.

Raging Bull (1980) - Dir. Martin Scorsese

I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to call Scorsese America’s greatest filmmaker of the last forty years. Nearly anyone whose had a passing interest in cinema has seen one of his films, or god willing at least knows of his work. However a hundred years from now when film textbooks (assuming such things still exist) look to reference Scorsese, chances are the one film he will be best remembered for is Raging Bull. Considered by nearly everyone to be the best film of the 80s, and featuring one of the most remarkable acting performances ever caught on film it is one of those films you simply have to watch. You might find more accessible films from him, but few American films have ever touched so many raw nerves as this film, it is very powerful stuff.

On the Waterfront (1954) - Dir. Elia Kazan

Forget context for a bit. You may or may not know who Elia Kazan, you may or may not know what he did in the 50s or what this film was alluding to. In fact the less you know on an initial viewing the better. If you don’t know about the filmmaker, keep it that way until after you finish this. On the Waterfront is to the 50s what Raging Bull is to the 80s when it comes to high end Hollywood drama. Marlon Brando won his first Oscar for his role as Terry Malloy and his famous speech is even quoted by DeNiro in Raging Bull. For anyone interested in just what method acting was this film is as good as it gets. Kazan, controversial he may have been at times was still one of the all time greats and this was his best film. Might seem odd today, but this was also a rarity in its day for actually filming on location (which considering how many films are shot on green screens today it may seem unique today as well).

Schindler’s List (1993) - Dir. Steven Spielberg

There seems to be a trend here of black and white dramas. In the case of this and Raging Bull, color was certainly the norm which makes it stand out all the more. Schindler’s List is one of those films that nearly everyone knows about, and people are well honestly sometimes scared to watch. Not the same way people might be scared to watch Paranormal Activity, but well they know this is going to get them on a gut level, and it might be a bit depressing. However anyone whose seen it won’t deny that it was a pretty damn good film. Even more than Scorsese, Spielberg is one of those directors who can sell a film just with his name. After his earlier track record of box office dominance, it seems odd that he was still trying to prove himself, still trying to be taken seriously by the establishment. Schindler’s List ended all doubts about that. No matter how many more films dealing with the Holocaust come out, this film set the bar far too high for any of them to ever reach it.

The 400 Blows (1959) - Dir. Francois Truffaut

Are you ready for some foreign films finally? Well I know some of you might be a little disturbed that this is the first one appearing on the list, but along with the film listed directly below this, it is a damn fine place to start. Francois Truffaut was one of the founders of the French New Wave, the original and ultimate “new wave”. His first feature was The 400 Blows and for many audiences world wide this will forever be the figurative Ft. Sumter of the New Wave. The autobiographical nature of the story is one that Truffaut would carry on throughout his career, eventually bringing the Antoine Doinel character back four more times. The film is harsh but revitalizing in it’s sincerity. Truffaut’s personal attachment to the subject was what the New Wave was all about. To paraphrase him, he wanted to make movies that he would have wanted to see growing up. With a certain nod to Jean Vigo’s Zero for Conduct the French cinema really never had a character quite like Doinel. It can be argued that the New Wave might have reached it’s peak a few years later, I can’t think of a better place to start.

Breathless (1960) - Dir. Jean-Luc Godard

Ever since their days as critics for Cahiers du Cinema Truffaut and Godard have been linked together. It doesn’t matter how incredibly far apart they drifted in later years, Godard being a very vocal critic of some of Truffaut’s later work, they came up together and internationally speaking The 400 Blows and Breathless will always be the most iconic films of the New Wave. Whereas Truffaut was breathing life into cinema with a personal subject and a few occasional directorial flourishes Godard simply took the entire language of cinema and made it his bitch. He’d get progressively more experimental over the next several decades (often to the point of incomprehension) but in his first feature he playfully bends all notions of what the rules of cinema are. Characters in Godard films break the fourth wall, continuity rules are discarded, camera movements are anything but fluid. It might seem odd with all the hand held camera movies being made today, but it was something quite revolutionary when Godard did it in 1960. It may also be worth pointing out that it’s just a damn fun film to watch still today. His film was the worship of the low budget American gangster film, and while paying homage to those poverty row studios he created a seismic shift in cinema forever. Simply put there is cinema before Godard, and cinema after Godard those are the two eras.

Open City (1945) - Dir. Roberto Rossellini

Chances are if you’ve heard of the French New Wave, then Italian Neorealism is also a movement that should ring a few bells. Now many films follow the wake of a breakthrough that borrow some of the original film’s signatures, but there’s always that first that simply defines what it’s all about. Roberto Rossellini was one of Italy’s “Big Four” of directors that came to prominence in the post war years. Open City was the first real breakthrough Italian cinema had outside of Italy since the days before D. W. Griffith. The influence of Rossellini and other Italians at the time was huge. It can be said that there might not have been a French New Wave without the Italian movement. Many of the films from this period are shot on location, often dealing with poor and exploited people. Many of the actors are non-professionals and the films were shot as naturalistically as possible. Yet none of these films are as powerful, dramatic, exciting, and groundbreaking as Rossellini’s breakthrough. This is cinema at it’s most vibrant and there are plenty of scenes that may still blow you away today with their brutality. This was a call to arms from a shamed nation desperately looking to rebuild itself in the wake of fascism.

The Searchers (1956) - Dir. John Ford

Well at long last we have ourselves a Western. Not just any Western but the greatest of all, starring the greatest screen cowboy we’re ever likely to see, and directed by the most legendary of all Western filmmakers. John Ford and John Wayne made a number of collaborations over the course of their careers. From Stagecoach in 1939 to Donovan’s Reef in 1963 the pair hit some pretty high highs. Rarely however has perfection like this occurred on the screen. I stumble at times to think of fitting enough adjectives to describe how amazing this movie is. This isn’t your cowboys and Indians shoot-’em-up that your grandpa might have had on the TV in the afternoon, this is some powerful stuff. After Stagecoach there was a wave of more serious minded Westerns aimed more for adults than 8-10 year old boys. In the 50s this was amplified even more particularly with the string of Westerns starring Jimmy Stewart and directed by Anthony Mann as well as critically acclaimed films like High Noon and Shane. Like Singin’ in the Rain this film was largely ignored when it first came out. Considered a flop this wound up being a personal favorite of Ford and Wayne but a bit of a failure for their studio. It was only after a rediscovery in the late 60s that people started to realize that this might be Ford’s masterpiece, which is saying something for a man who won 4 best director Oscars.

Seven Samurai (1954) - Dir. Akira Kurosawa

Rashomon might have been the film to open the floodgates to Japanese cinema in the 50s but when all is said and done this is the Kurosawa film that will be considered his best. Like The Searchers this film was also somewhat maligned when it was first released. It nearly bankrupted it’s studio and when it came out in the US two years later over an hour of it was cut. The director’s cut was one of those cinematic tragedies people dreamed about one day seeing (like Welle’s Magnificent Ambersons, or Erich Von Stroheim’s Greed) and in the 90s that dream came true. A complete restoration took place and the full epic was once again available and seen for the first time in the West. The parallels between samurai films and Westerns are numerous and it makes sense that the film was remade as The Magnificent Seven in 1960. Perhaps watching this side by side with The Searchers can help illustrate the point a little better. The amount of care and patience Kurosawa crams into an action packed film is remarkable. Hard to imagine a film so simple be so involved. This is perhaps the best known Japanese film ever made, and well why not start with Kurosawa?

La Dolce Vita (1960) - Dir. Federico Fellini

Fellini was a one of a kind director. Describing his style to someone whose never seen one of his films is a frustrating endeavor. La Dolce Vita signaled a turn in Italian cinema much like Breathless did for the French. Gone were the non-professional actors, films shot in remote provinces about poor people and their struggles. Sure directors like Olmi, Rosi, and De Seta would continue this but with La Dolce Vita, as well as L’Avvenura released the same year the emphasis would shift. Fellini was interested in the rich and their unique brand of decadence. For better or worse Fellini would get more surrealistic in his subsequent films but there is just a slight hint of that here. Instead it’s just a compelling odyssey of life on the A-list. No one is entirely bad or entirely good anymore. Fellini became the first Italian director nominated for a best director Oscar with this film, which goes to show you that no time needed to pass before audiences recognized the greatness of this film. If foreign cinema had any equivalent to say Casablanca as a must see film, La Dolce Vita might be it.

It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) - Dir. Frank Capra

I’ll be honest this probably could have gone on the first tier. After all who isn’t familiar with this film? For many families this is a holiday tradition, the ultimate Christmas movie. Watching it today I don’t look at so much as a Christmas film. Frank Capra dominated the 30s, winning 3 best director Oscars in 5 years. When WWII started he did his part and went overseas, helping produce and direct the Why We Fight Series. Coming home after the war this was his first film, and also his first collaboration with James Stewart since Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Audiences were a little put off by how downbeat the film seemed to be at the time. Critics still loved it but this wasn’t quite the same foolishly optimistic Capra of the previous decade but the underlying message was still the same. George Bailey was after all a good man deep down inside and well good things eventually happen to good people, occasionally we might not even be aware of it. In many ways this is both the pinnacle of “Capra-corn” and it’s swan-song.

The Birth of a Nation/Intolerance (1915/1916) - Dir. D. W. Griffith

One can make the argument that no filmmaker was ever more important or influential than D. W. Griffith. Perhaps film itself would have faded away as a curious novelty much like the wild west show had it not been for Griffith. Now sometimes due to a tendency of oversimplifying history he is credited with more than he probably deserves, but there are some things you just can’t take away. The Birth of a Nation is, was, and always will be the most controversial film ever made. You may think that today some of it’s scenes are downright appalling, perhaps thinking when the film was made that things were different and audiences didn’t mind. However this film was just as volatile back in 1915, dividing many audiences. Like too many other films that are often impossible to separate from their historical context this film often gets overlooked for what it did for cinema. For the first time cinema was on par with all other art forms if not surpassing it. Even better however was Intolerance, a film made by Griffith to apologies/defend his actions with Birth. It’s multiple lines of action were lost on viewers at the time and like a few other films on this list it was a disaster when released. For Griffith it was the end of his most ambitious projects, but he’d continue to make some great and important films until his involuntary retirement following 1931’s The Struggle. Intolerance is to me the greatest silent film ever made and pretty damn close to the greatest of all films, but everyone living should see The Birth of a Nation at some point in their lifetime. Few people could stage a battle scene like Griffith, and for editing pace well there are generations of disciples that still owe a debt of gratitude to the master.

So that’s it for now. The third tier will be coming soon so go through this list and do you homework.

Essential Cinema - Introduction and First Tier

Oh boy yet again I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. After mulling over a list for awhile thinking “this will be a fun yet involved little project” I have again been pulling my hair out racking my brain trying to please all facets of the great god of cinema and well I failed. Not a complete failure, but there is no way in hell that my list will please everyone, or anyone for that matter. For every filmmaker, movement, era, and genre I have represented there seem just as many worthy that have been left in the dust. However before I lament too much further and make apologies that may or may not be necessary let’s go back a decade shall we? 

When I was still 18 and still tackling the world of cinema a book was published by the National Society of Film Critics. This book, called The A List: The National Society of Film Critics’ 100 Essential Films was picked up by me and I proceeded to do what I always do when I find a new list, see everything on it. Unlike previous lists, this one took awhile, in fact over 5 years until I saw Charles Burnett’s Killer of Sheep, the last film remaining in this book. It was around this time that Fred Schepisi’s The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith was finally released on DVD (or any home video format) and well I could finally close the book literally and figuratively. From the start this book had problems. For starters there were a host of films that made you scratch your head (Jailhouse Rock?), even worthy efforts that seemed a bit presumptuous (LA Confidential). Likewise there were just as many films that were left off that made you cry blasphemy (no Tarkovsky!!!).

Anyways I learned then as I hope my readers will learn now that there is no perfect list, especially when limiting to 100 films. Since the NSFC grouped a couple films together (Godfather 1 and 2, La Strada with Nights of Cabiria, Red Sorghum with Ju Dou and Raise the Red Lantern) I figured a few likewise groupings of similar films could suffice, which helps extend this list just a little over 100. As I’ve mentioned before when making lists, if there are more than 100 worthy films, why not make a list to include all worthy films? Well you get a bit excessive, and then you start to say “well if you have a film from Makavejev why not Kusturica, if Imamura is on there then where’s Oshima, and so on. I may point out that some if not all of these directors might be missing from this list. Oh well I tried to make as many people happy as I could but let us discuss that presently. 

The point of this list is introductory. In other words if you’ve never seen a film in your life you will find this list and slowly digest the most general, and hopefully well rounded sampling of all world cinema has to offer. This is a starting point, meaning each entry and selection can open the door to more diverse and varied options. Very few directors are represented more than once, and the few that are don’t necessarily think this is my way of saying they’re “more important” or even “more essential” but they just may need more than one film to represent themselves. 

For this reason there is an order to this list, and not alphabetically. This first entry is dedicated to the First Tier, a group of films designed to be seen first. Once you watch all of these films, proceed to the Second Tier and so on. The idea is to make this first group as accessible as possible. The films that I hope someone who has never explored cinema would watch and be encouraged to proceed further. For this reason the first group may seem like a list of films everyone and their mother should have seen. These films are very far from esoteric and none of them can constitute as being particularly downbeat. This should be a joyous occasion, you are venturing out into a brave new world, and I’d like you to enjoy yourself. So I would like to point out that the films in this first tier are in no way supposed to be the 8-10 greatest movies ever made, simply the first group of films you should watch. I debated for a long time how many films to put in this category. They need to be accessible, but well I didn’t want to bombard someone with a monumental list of films. These can be tackled in a week easily or a weekend if you’re particularly bored and highly motivated. The entire list may take time, and my apologies beforehand if some of these films are harder to find than others. I know from personal experience it can be infuriating to search indefinitely for that one or two films. 

The idea behind each tier is as follows: 

First Tier - You should have already seen these. Essentials that are part of popular culture, easily accessible, not the least bit challenging and over all damn entertaining films. 

Second Tier - The great films that you may need some context for. Certain films are among the all time greats but might go over your head if watched too soon. The first tier is designed to give you some context so that these films don’t go to waste. Some of these might constitute “downers” if you would but trust me they’re all worth it, and there may even be a foreign film in here, but if you made it this far I assume you know how to read (subtitles).  

Third Tier - The slightly esoteric masterpieces. When it comes to getting a little strange, possibly pretentious but still essential this is the group. Some of these films might seem a little alienating even at the second level so we bring them here. This is where most of those foreign essentials pop up as well as some more silent gems. The idea here is you’ve graduated to more “grown-up” movies and can handle things like subtitles or even a bit of a slower paced film. 

Fourth Tier - This is the all of the above/super esoteric. Even amongst the oddball films, there are even odder ones. When it comes to David Lynch I’d say you should see Blue Velvet before Mulholland Drive in order to prepare yourself. Likewise there are certain films that well might not be “as essential” as others. In other words Citizen Kane and the Godfather belong further up the list, whereas perhaps The Best Years of Our Lives and The Red Shoes may fall a little lower. I’m not saying these are fourth tier films for example, but just saying that well I have denoted an order to this progression. Only when I’m done with all four tiers will I offer an alphabetical list with each tier listed next to the film for an easy reference. I wouldn’t want to spoil it all by telling you the entire list right off the bat. 

I’ve limited this to four groups for now, and while I’m writing this I still have to decipher which films fall into which group. It would make sense by this breakdown that each group will get larger, making the overall list look something like a pyramid with the 4th representing the base. Now again try not to get upset if your personal favorite film is in this bottom rung, I’m not saying it’s worse than others, but hey at that point be glad it’s even on the list. After each film listed I’ve tried to offer at least a little reason as to why it’s on the list whether it’s representing a genre, a director, a country, an era, etc. Some films have multiple points of entry, although I don’t plan on offering detailed justifications for every movie on the list. 

So amuse me for a minute but I’ve decided to hold a fake interview to help answer some of the questions you may have regarding this list, the interviewing being done by let’s say Charlie Barker (CB)

CB - So what’s the difference between a list of the 100 “Greatest” films and the 100 most “Essential” films? 

Me - Well Charlie, “greatest” implies a certain level of relative aestheticism, denoting quality on a subjective basis. My goal for this list was to be as objective as possible. There are films on this list that perhaps I wouldn’t consider among the greatest, but enough people do or what they represent is important so they’re on here. Another way of describing it could be these are “must see” films. I don't eat pumpkin pie, but I understand it's place on the Thanksgiving table.

CB - So wouldn’t the “Greatest” films also be “must see” viewing? 

Me - Well yes but to a point. With essential cinema, this is a way of offering an introduction, a way to give a 100 film synopsis of the history of cinema if you will, without necessarily ranking these films. For example, Stanley Kubrick may be my favorite director, and my own personal top 100 list might have as many as 3 or 4 films from him on it, yet only one Kubrick film is on this essential list. I should also point out the influence of many of these films. After all Abel Gance’s Napoleon might be his “greatest” film, but due to its obscurity for many decades La Roue was his most influential, and still arguably his most important. After all La Roue was released in 1923 in time to inspire the Soviets with their ground breaking montage style, Napoleon on the other hand was released in 1927 and severely butchered. 

CB - Ok, I’m starting to see the difference, but come on surely there was some degree of “personal judgement” when making this list, wasn’t there? 

Me - Haha, but of course! I had only 100 spots here, so often times there may be a movement that I wanted represented, like say the Czech New Wave, but since there’s room for debate as to which film would be the “most essential” from this period I had a few options. The Shop on Main Street and Closely Watched Trains were for decades the best known and each won a best foreign film Oscar, yet recently films like Marketa Lazarova and The Cremator have become much better known and in many people’s eyes better films. In fact Marketa was voted the greatest of all Czech films in a national poll of Czech film critics. I admit I get to play god a bit but I wouldn’t say there are any outright blasphemous inclusions or exclusions where personal preference tainted the integrity of the project. 

CB - What was the hardest group of films to decide on? 

Me - The contemporary films. I mean it’s easy to look back on silent cinema and figure which films are worth including, which ones have stood up, how they’ve influenced others and so on. However with modern films who's to say what people will think of Inception 20 years from now? I tried to make my contemporary choices count. Hard to argue with Mulholland Drive after it was voted by nearly every critic to be the best film of the past decade, and it seemed fitting to try and include a few of the more noteworthy international films, but again I found myself being “extra” picky. The NSFC list was published in 2002 so they didn’t have to worry about what the best films of the 2000’s were, so I have to contend with trying to squeeze an extra decade into the same 100 spots. 

CB - What are the general criteria for inclusion on this list? 

Me - Well this is predominantly full length fiction films. I say predominantly because there are a few exceptions. After all A Trip to the Moon was quite an epic for 1902, and somehow I can’t imagine any list of required cinema viewing to be complete without this. Since the area is a little grey when it comes to The Man With a Movie Camera, I included it. Likewise I felt Errol Morris should be represented, after all The Thin Blue Line got a man released from jail for Christ’s sake. In the event of politically motivated Latin American cinema (which I felt had to be represented by at least one film) so much of it is documentary that I wasn’t going to exclude a vitally important film trying to decide if it fit unnecessary criteria. After all a film is a film, so that’s my justification. My apologies for non-fiction enthusiasts and devotees of avant-garde/experimental cinema who feel a great deal of neglect, but again “predominantly full length fiction films” to answer your question in 1000 words or less. 

CB - Do these films have to be watched in the order you list them? 

Me - Not exactly. I’m writing this under the premise that someone hasn’t seen any of the films. In that case I’ve tried to lay out this road map so that it makes the most sense and can offer the greatest appreciation as well as comprehension of the films included. The idea however is to finish all the entries on a given tier before progressing to the next one. I would assume everyone in reality has seen at least a few films from this list, so don't worry too much if availability dictates a slightly different order.

CB - How much of an influence was the NSFC list? 

Me - It was the genesis of this project. In many cases, trying to be objective I erred on the side of the original A-List book for certain choices. There are going to be glaring omissions that they have that I didn’t. Of course there are a few films that I’m not personally fond of but I couldn’t really argue with their status. I’ve consulted other lists, including the Village Voice Film Guide, The Sight and Sound poll, and They Shoot Pictures Don’t They’s top 1000 among others. So I tried to weigh everything as best I could and allow myself to be the final judge. 

CB - Now can you please shut the hell up and start this list already? 

Me - Sure here’s the First Tier . . .  

First Tier 

Casablanca (1942) - Dir. Michael Curtiz This is the first film on the list because I believe it is the first film everyone should see. Now here’s that subjectivity coming into place. I started my film odyssey with this movie some 12 years ago or so and I’ve never looked back, so if it’s good enough for me, then why not for you? Now there are plenty of films that people have no good reason not to have seen. Some times they’re just stubborn, but well I can’t imagine anyone having any reason whatsoever not to watch Casablanca. This first tier really shouldn’t even have to be justified, but my advice is watch this and then feel free to tackle the rest, but don’t skip past this and continue on down. I don’t care what order you tackle the first tier, but this needs to be first regardless. Then in any order except for the last  

The Godfather/The Godfather Part 2 (1972/1974) - Dir. Francis Ford Coppola I actually debated putting this in the second tier, because well it’s long, somewhat involved and not exactly a cheerful picture. However come on people it’s the fucking Godfather, if you haven’t seen it slap yourself, then boil a big pot of water, make a nice pasta sauce, cook some noodles, and have yourself a fabulous dinner of pasta while watching the greatest piece of American cinema from the last 5-6 decades. After all aside from possibly Casablanca and Citizen Kane this is probably the number one film people are going to tell you is the greatest of all time, and no one who mentions how great the original is won’t soon follow it up with how excellent the sequel is. Do yourself a favor next day off you have and there’s nothing happening (possibly during an upcoming snow storm), just sit back and spend the day with the Corleone family and you won’t be disappointed.  

Gone With the Wind (1939) - Dir. Victor Fleming, George Cukor, Sam Wood Hollywood at it’s most extravagant and arguably best, this is the epic for the ages. You have to be living under a rock to not know this film and who can’t at least quote a few lines of dialogue from it? For anyone who wanted to know just what made Hollywood such a magical mythical place during the Great Depression this is the film to behold.  

Psycho (1960) - Dir. Alfred Hitchcock Everyone has heard the name Hitchcock, as far as directors go he is as recognizable a name brand as the cinema has ever had. No one can call themselves even a moderate film fan without seeing at least one of his films. For my money Psycho isn’t just his best but his most accessible film. If someone is going to like any Hitchcock film it’s probably going to be this one. Think of all the lesser “slasher” and horror films that have come in it’s wake and recognize what true greatness really is. I still say I envy original audiences who were genuinely surprised at the climax. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then consider yourself lucky and go see this classic before someone ruins that little bit for you. 

Singin’ in the Rain (1952) - Dir. Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly Oh yeah, this may very well be the most delightful movie musical ever made. If you hate musicals and lament over that gay burst into song shit, I dare you to not like this film. I dare you to say it sucks, or that you didn’t find yourself a day later humming at least one of the songs from it. Try not to laugh during the film either, and take a second to take in how easy they make it all look. The best musical ever made bar none, and if this doesn’t put you in a happy mood to watch more great cinema, then perhaps this whole project is lost on you.  

Star Wars (1977) - Dir. George Lucas Before money, power, more money, merchandising, money, and wealth got to his head George Lucas was a pretty damn good filmmaker. His early work showed promise, American Graffiti even got some attention from the Academy Awards and Star Wars took him to another level. There’s a reason why this is the most successful franchise of all time, and it started in 1977. Don’t deal with his “special edition” where he repeatedly rapes the film that we all grew up loving. After years of complaining they finally did release the original theatrical cut on DVD, watch this. It amazes me in this day and age that people still haven’t seen Star Wars and arguing this point with someone is about as successful as converting a Muslim over to Judaism, but like the other films above if not more so, there is no one on earth who shouldn’t have already seen this. Of course immediately proceed to Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi. Only the brave or incredibly masochistic need check out the pre-quels, so please don’t judge the franchise based on those.  

The Wizard of Oz (1939) - Dir. Victor Fleming Are there any people alive who haven’t seen The Wizard of Oz? Yes there are and one of them might be in my immediate family. That said this is one of those films that even if you haven’t seen it you probably already know every moment of it. So much of it has been referenced, quoted, and shown in countless Oscar montages that we can easily piece together the whole film. Like Gone With the Wind this is one of those iconic 1939 films that earned that year the reputation of being the greatest in Hollywood history. Not hard to argue based on two of those films representing the 8 in my first tier. So hold your horses musical haters, clearly you should have warmed up after Singin’ in the Rain. Very few shots moments in the history of cinema can rival that very first shot of Oz. 

And last but not least (but seriously watch this after the other 7) 

 The Gold Rush (1925) - Dir. Charles Chaplin I’m sure many of you might have noticed the abundance of not just Hollywood films, but “talkies”. I made a point of making this first tier as accessible as I could while emphasizing the most important. For many years Chaplin was the most recognizable figure in the world, and this film may give you a good indication why. It’s hard to imagine after the critical success but commercial failure of A Woman of Paris people wondered if he could regain his comic supremacy. An ambitious project this was the longest and most expensive comedy ever made (circa 1925 of course) it also became the most successful. My fondest memory of this film was watching it around 11 years ago with a friend who was just about 18. He was born in Mexico and didn’t grow up raised by TV and Looney Tunes cartoons. He didn’t know who Chaplin was and he had never seen a silent film before. I put this movie on and he laughed harder than anyone I’ve ever seen watching a movie. I was able to understand what audiences saw in 1925, who didn’t know what to expect, who never saw any of these iconic bits, and it proved to me that even 75 years after it came out this still had the power to make people laugh hysterically on a first viewing. Some people may argue that City Lights or Modern Times are better films, but none can equal the iconic status of The Gold Rush, and what better film to offer as my first silent feature? 

Stay tuned for the Second Tier . . .

Raúl Ernesto Ruiz Pino (25 July 1941 – 19 August 2011)

Raul Ruiz RIP

In the wake of any great filmmaker passing come countless tributes, recollections, reflections, and salutes to their greatest days. In the event of many filmmakers their best work are dusty old distant relics of a previous generation, risen to prominence in the glorious yesteryear when they still made great cinema, as if to imply today’s films are somehow lacking. Sometimes we hear a figure has passed away and we ask ourselves out loud “Didn’t he die already?”, other times it’s someone taken far too soon in the prime of their career with infinite more promise to come. In the case of Raul Ruiz, like his many films, he may not fit into any of the above categories.

Ruiz had just passed his 70th birthday shortly after his passing last month. You can scarcely say he was gone too soon, after all 70 is an age many of us may not ever hit (sorry to be morbid). However looking at his glorious yesteryear proves a little trickier with Ruiz. A workaholic of biblical proportions Ruiz made around 100 films from 1963 until last year’s Mysteries of Lisbon, and I’d venture to say no one except for possibly Ruiz himself had seen all of them. Even after my recent Ruiz-fest in preparation for this blog, I’ve only totaled 17 films of his, so I still have a long way to go, not even 20% done.

His theory was always to keep working no matter what the source or cost. The fact that a huge majority of his films came from his own scripts only goes to enhance his status as a supremely prolific and gifted auteur. The varying degrees of quality in his work however may attest to the fact that when your objective is output you may not have the emotional attachment to your work that often leads to highly personal masterpieces. Or you may simply say that Ruiz was a filmmaker and scenarist who trusted his instincts, went with his first response and rarely second guessed himself or his work. If his film was poorly received, or not received at all it didn’t matter because by the time it premiered he was already working on his next project.

Ruiz’s career is one that spans decades of peaks and valleys. He was born in Chile and began making films when many of his more politically oriented countrymen started to gain notoriety. After Pinochet took power in 1973 Ruiz like many of his countrymen became a political exile, relocating in France where like the great surrealist before him, Luis Bunuel made a second home for himself. His first French language film, Dialogue of the Exiles takes a Ruiz-ian approach to the displacement of Chilean citizens in the wake of Pinochet. Lacking much of the surrealistic flourishes that would characterize his later work, it is a dialogue heavy film about people in exile trying to find a new home, yet surprisingly low on overt political commentary. Unlike say Miguel Littin, Ruiz was not terribly political in his films. Sometimes his beliefs were hidden under layers of surreal mystery available only for the most adventurous psychoanalyst to decipher like complicated dreams, but this led to some criticism by other Latin American filmmakers who felt he should have been more vocal.

Borrowing slightly from Chris Marker’s still photography film La Jettee, Ruiz made Colloque de chiens (Dogs Dialogue) in 1977 which gave a hint at the subversive and often brutally violent style that he would go onto develop in the coming decade. Expanding on this further was Hypothesis of a Stolen Painting in 1978, his first real international success and arguably the first feature that was quintessential Ruiz. This led to a period of great production and critical acclaim as his style began to fully mature with films like On top of the Whale, City of Pirates, Three Crowns of the Sailor, and arguably his best film Manoel on the Island of Marvels. In addition to his extremely surrealistic themes, Ruiz typically employed stories within stories, notably on Manoel, Pirates, and even more so on La chouette aveugle (aka The Blind Owl). He loved shooting in deep focus and a typical Ruiz shot would usually have someone in the extreme foreground with plenty going on in focus behind them. His multiple narratives which seems to layer into themselves rarely tie themselves together instead follow more like the linear and strange pattern of dreams where one thread leads to another to another and rarely back again. For this reason Ruiz has never really achieved the popular acclaim of other surrealistic filmmakers like Bunuel, Lynch, Maddin, or even Godard.

His esoteric appeal is another reason why many critics love his work. The experienced film scholar may look at Ruiz’s films as densely layered puzzles, challenging work that you can’t just shut off your brain to. Films that you have to be smart (like them) to understand and if you don’t get it then you must somehow not have the intellectual capacity to appreciate them. For this reason his films may seem elitist. Even today fewer than 10% of his films are available on DVD, which means few countries seem willing to tackle Ruiz’s monolithic filmography. Even Criterion, long since the beacon of good taste when it comes to art house faire, has never released a Ruiz film, but they have put out more than one Michael Bay film just saying.

Ruiz doesn’t share his esoteric appeal alone. Portuguese master Manoel de Oliveira, whose still making films into his 100s, also has avoided the illustrious Criterion treatment and his films are certainly slower and more refined for a crowd looking for cinematic excitement. Oliveira’s films however don’t carry the surrealistic flourishes and avoid the violent outbursts like Ruiz, his is certainly more of a deliberate nature. However both filmmakers seem to often be neglected in terms of first tier status of the world’s greatest directors. The sheer enormity of Ruiz’ output alone should have him in that discussion, and perhaps with his passing, more people will do what I did and start to take a closer look at one of the most complex, fascinating, and rewarding cinematic legacies you can find.

2011 Progress Report

As I returned home from my trip out East I was thinking now would be a good time to take a look at 2011 in film and try in some way to make heads or tails out of it. If you’ll excuse the diversion from the ancient history of cinema for at least one blog entry, that particular project is being a little more difficult to complete than I thought.

Every year the goal is 50 films, a magic number that says “I’ve seen enough”, or at the very least a number that’s good enough to start the argument. It would make sense then that at the midway point of the year (or in this case slightly after the middle of the year) I’d have already seen 25 or more films. My friends I wish that was the case. Turns out I’ve only seen about 12 films this year. Now that doesn’t mean I’ve only watched 12 films, just that only 12 of the films I’ve watched would count as a 2011 release.

Things have not been too easy when it comes to getting to the show. Some films are sitting on my computer waiting to be seen. A few probably would have been seen previously if certain people were more reliable, but this is the way it always is year after year. So let’s start with the big boys, Marvel.

This year in preparation for the upcoming Avengers movie, and perhaps to make up for the lack of Marvel features last year we’ve seen three come out in successive months. Now I’m not complaining for a second, the newest release Captain America is a very decent film. Perhaps I’m still feeling the hangover from X-Men: First Class that this film naturally seems like a slight disappointment, but that’s not to say it’s bad.

I’d like to believe after the output of subpar Marvel films (Fantastic Four, Daredevil, Ghost Rider) that those days are over. Now that everything is coming from one studio the production values have gone up, and they’re trying a little harder. The problem is sometimes that can turn into trying too hard. Let’s face it there is not much need for CGI in a Captain America movie, he’s a steroid injected patriot out to kick some Nazi ass. However in today’s Hollywood that film couldn’t be made for under 200 million, and that serum needs to be tweaked a little to not sound completely like anabolic steroids. So a lot of crappy and unnecessary computer effects are the burden we have to put up with. Like Thor this film was made in 3-D, or converted, so there are a few of those blatantly overdone shots designed to make you say “glad I saw this in 3-D”, but makes the rest of us just think that it’s irrelevant.



There were good and bad moments about Captain America but at the end it really just seemed like their way of saying “just wait until the Avengers”. X-Men was the only one of the three releases this year that I think can hold it’s own as a just plain great film. The other two have to be viewed as a good-for-that-character or I’m-glad-they-didn’t-ruin-it type. More good fun than anything else. The X-Men have been extremely popular for the last few decades because of the nature of their powers and the inherent parallels that go with it. Their characters are complex, fleshed out for a long time by Chris Clairemont and others. Both Thor and Cap’ represent perhaps a more simplified “corny” era for comics. They haven’t had the necessary “gritty reboot” to make them seem more relevant today. Not to say that both characters don’t have their own excellent runs in comics. Just for pure character, you can’t really beat the X-Men when it comes to Marvel. Perhaps Tony Stark/Iron Man is the only possible exception which is why that would probably rank alongside First Class as the best films Marvel has put out.

Regardless this newest Cap film has helped erase the memory of that god awful 1990 straight to video release, as well as the even worse made for TV movies from the late seventies (that’s right there were two of them). The age of seeing our favorite super heroes on the big screen is well upon us, and the bigger the budget it seems the less chances filmmakers are willing to take. I’m looking forward to the upcoming Avengers movie in a big way, although I’m already prepared for Joss Whedon to kill at least one character off, because that’s what he does.

Now let’s go a little more artsy.

When the year rolls over most of the films coming out in theaters are either Oscar holdovers that are expanding from their select release, or a lot of crap that studios dump in the first quarter never to be heard from again. Somewhere in between these two extremes are the oddball independent and foreign films that were made a year or so earlier but failed to get distribution. This is why you’ll see a lot of films on a top ten list that were made the year before, sometimes as much as 5 years earlier.

So a good barometer to judge what films to look out for in the coming year is to find a best undistributed film list. Where might you find this? Well since you asked, Film Comment usually puts out a small list of the best undistributed films every year along with their regular poll. These are the movies seen at festivals and special screenings that didn’t get an official release. Sometimes even the films that did get official releases (like Manoel de Oliveira’s Strange Case of Angelica or Pedro Costa’s Ne Change Rien) are impossible to find though.

Thanks to the wonder of the internet though many times these undistributed films have already gotten a DVD release in another country. When Abbas Kiarostami’s The Certified Copy was getting rave reviews at some film festivals last year I was able to find a DVD quality print of the film online months before it got it’s official Chicago release. So checking out this undistributed list is a nice way to get a head start on the next year’s features, and you just may hear of a film you would have easily missed if it got one of those quiet select screen releases.

Topping Film Comment’s list of undistributed films last year was Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives. I have not found another filmmaker who makes movies anything like Apichatpong, and critics absolutely adore this. I think his films have gotten better with each release and although I’ve still only seen Uncle Boonmee once, this might be his best film yet. Since I’ve seen all of his other films at least twice, I’ll hold off on making an official decree just yet. Describing this film is tough, especially if you haven’t seen any of his films before. If you have this fits into the interconnected world that all his films inhabit but with a slightly more metaphysical quality. It’s profound and mesmerizing the way the best art house films should be, which might make it slow, boring, and confusing for someone not quite willing to invest themselves fully in it. Eye of the beholder for sure, but this was the first solid masterpiece I saw from this year.

Next on Film Comment’s list was good old Jean Luc Godard’s (yep he’s still making movies) Film Socialism. There was a time when a new Godard feature happened every couple of months, but the last decade that output has slowed dramatically. This is only his third feature film since 2000. That said it would seem a big deal. I was personally disappointed in it, which happens sometimes when you wait too long. However I was disappointed because I’m simply tired of Godard’s modern style. I often just wish he’d make something remotely coherent and then he can go back to his video editing self indulgent tirades. This film just seems like he doesn’t even have a clue what it’s about or what the hell all his trademark dejected people spouting radical political rhetoric are talking about. It feels like he ran out of things to rebel against but just isn’t quite willing to admit it. Perhaps another 40 viewings of this and it might make some sense, but if you expecting some great return to form from the master, you’re in for a disappointment.

Speaking of director’s who make the same film repeatedly, Woody Allen’s latest Midnight in Paris has gotten stellar reviews and seems to be that period Allen film that comes out every few years that people randomly decide to like. Sometimes it seems exhausting to keep up with Woody Allen especially when you more or less know what to expect. I wouldn’t recommend sitting through every one of his films, but please consult a known authority before you start blindly sitting through Anything Else. I’m still working on seeing this most recent release so I’ll have to fill you in later whether it deserves the extra attention.

Now the last film I’d like to talk about is another from an older director. This one makes films so rarely that it seems impossible that any of his films can live up to the outrageous expectations. That director is Terrence Mallick, and his newest film Tree of Life might very well be the best film I’ve seen in a decade. Mallick has always favored a looser narrative, he’s employed internal monologues quite a bit and dabbled with continuity in his previous four features, but nothing like what he did here. This is downright avant-garde nearly non-narrative and a film that dares to be so profound to question the very origin of all creation. The trailer which first was shown before The Black Swan, made little sense, watching the movie it did a perfect job of setting things up. If this doesn’t win a best cinematography Oscar there truly is no god. I know it’d be foolish to think Academy voters can give Mallick his long overdue Oscar for a film that did so little at the box office.

The fact that this film was given a good budget, a major studio backing, and even a few a-listers in the cast boggles my mind, like it’s a holdover from the glory days of the 70s when studios trusted their directors. Perhaps Mallick is just the guy whose earned it. The man makes about one movie a decade, so needless to say he’ll have a ready audience. That said you know he isn’t going to make a film he’s not completely committed to. Whereas The New World was cut down, I have not heard anything about that happening to Tree of Life. It seems like Mallick got to do exactly what he wanted and the result is simply incredible.

I feel apprehensive recommending this film to people because it can completely go over your head. This is the type of film that will either change how you view films forever or make you never listen to one of my recommendations again. Even though the projection of the film got messed up and they never fixed the lights my opinion of this film wasn’t dimmed. I don’t often get that excited about a new film in the theater, but well Mallick doesn’t make a new movie very often, and on first inspection this is his finest work. I’d be positively amazed if another film comes out this year that I have a stronger reaction to.

So hopefully I can pick up the pace so I’m not rushing to finish 50 films on New Year’s Eve again.

Cliffnotes version - see Tree of Life

History of Film - Chapter 2

America keeps it’s mouth shut

Welcome back to another installment of the history of film via Jack Ellis via me. I am in no considerable way attempting to add to Ellis’ book, simply offer my own perspective and commentary on the films I’ve (most recently) watched. I’m far from ignorant on film history but perhaps farther still from writing my own history of cinema textbook. That’s the type of project that takes about a lifetime to finish. So lets keep it loose, keep it personal, and hopefully moderately entertaining for my millions of readers.

So as I eluded to in my previous post I was jumping around a bit. I started working on chapters 3 and 4 first. So well we have to take a step back and discuss chapter 2. You might say “Hey Dave why not start with Chapter 1?” Well good question and one that I attempted to answer in my previous post. The first chapter is the only one in the book that really takes a look at all that was happening in world cinema at the time (or at least France, the US, and Italy). I’ve seen the majority of films from the chapter already but for reasons I can’t really figure I haven’t really tackled the chapter with any degree of determination.

If Ellis can have one principle criticism it’s the fact that he writes from a Western and particularly US perspective. This is fine for someone in the US who believes our cinema is clearly the most important of any nation. Now I’m not one to hate on old glory and say that our cinema doesn’t kick the most ass of any nation on earth (I hope someone’s chanting U S A as they read this), but Ellis takes this cinematic patriotism almost to a fault. Considering the 4th edition of the book has 20 chapters, 8 of them are dedicated exclusively to American cinema and the first chapter makes it almost seem like a half. This edition also cut out chapters on French avant-garde cinema and Scandinavian silents so considering two more foreign chapters were removed only draws more attention to the US and this book’s considerable slant.

Well ladi-di-da Mr. Fancy Frenchman now that you’re done complaining, let’s talk about the US and in particular the first chapter dedicated exclusively to American cinema in the silent era.

Rise of the American Film 1914-1919

Even with two chapters removed Ellis still offers a good amount of print (percentage wise) to silent cinema. For nerds who love silent film like me this is a good thing. The fact that the US gets two full chapters alone in this era is great. However Ellis takes an extremely streamlined approach to discussing film history in the US. Typically the American chapters feature more films than any other, but Ellis keeps things lean for Chapter 2. Perhaps he recognizes the large amount of lost films from the period (or believed to be at the time) or perhaps he knows many potential college students will roll their eyes and be bored by those goofy films without words. Either way it makes tackling the chapter relatively easy . . .almost.

Now for people who didn’t forget everything they learned in history class you might recognize the time frame as the years encompassing World War I. The widespread theory which makes a great deal of sense since it happens to be true is that American cinema rose to international dominance in the years of the first world war largely because of their own neutrality for most of it. Makes sense since if countries in Europe were busy killing each other and using all their resources to achieving that objective, America was free not just to make movies, but they could show them overseas because they had very limited competition. Now other countries were still making movies at this time, but French movies couldn’t be shown in Germany, and German films weren’t being screened in England, etc. So American movies were able to get everywhere, and since everyone had settled out in Hollywood by this time, things seemed to be settling in nicely for the US.

What seemed like a three horse race at the beginning of the decade, with Italians looking to be the leaders, soon became just the US in sole possession of first, a position that they still continue to hold internationally today. So if ever you wonder why American films are so bloated over done and so popular everywhere, it’s roots lay in WWI. As a side note peanut butter and jelly were also a combination made popular in WWI, so end of diversion.

Ellis takes a somewhat simplistic view of American cinema which he divides into a couple of key players. First and most important is D. W. Griffith. His work was discussed a bit in chapter one but well lets face it he is easily the most important figure in cinema during the 1910s and certainly the most noteworthy in America. Several pages alone are dedicated to Birth of a Nation which earns the distinction of being America’s first extremely important film. Griffith followed this up with Intolerance which is also discussed, and the chapter actually ends with his 1919 masterpiece Broken Blossoms. Oftentimes the history of American cinema in the silent era is “D. W. Griffith did everything first the end”. If I was offering a cliff notes version of film history that would probably suffice, but there’s clearly more to it than that.

Next up is a bit of comedy. Mack Sennett is basically considered the father of American film comedy and his Keystone cops produced some of the most god awfully dated comedic films of all time. Still the groundwork of those films helped define American comedy for a long time to come, and Sennett followed the age old principle that violence = funny. From this comes Charlie Chaplin who made his screen debut in the Keystone film Making a Living. Chaplin went on to lend some credibility to the genre and quickly outgrew the severely limited style of Sennett with his bumbling cops. For fans of handlebar mustaches though, please consult Chaplin’s The Pawnshop and The Rink, the latter of which features a man seducing a bovine woman by twirling his handlebars (yes that happened).

The rest of the chapter touches on a few miscellaneous features. One is a Theda Bara picture called A Fool There Was, and the other is Thomas H. Ince’s Civilization the one damn film I can’t seem to find a copy of now. It exists on VHS and apparently Grapevine put out a DVD of it. Someday I’ll locate it but until then this chapter remains incomplete. For those who know my list fetishism in it’s extremity will know that I’ve probably lost sleep over not seeing Civilization and a certain part of my soul feels incomplete without it. As a side note this is the film that made Yasujiro Ozu want to become a filmmaker. There’s also the mention of a whopping one Cecile B. DeMille film from this period, his first film The Squaw Man. There is a huge oversight in this regard considering DeMille directed an astonishing 10 films alone in 1915. So my own addendum, see The Cheat. Ellis also seems to have left out “America’s Sweetheart” Mary Pickford so well again this is concise.

Now for the films I’ve watched to complete this:

Making a Living (1914) - Mack Sennett

Chaplin’s debut feature is one that made Sennett scratch his head and consider himself a true failure. This is shortly before Chaplin established his little tramp persona that he would continue with for the next two decades. Basically Chaplin runs around trying to make a buck and failing miserably at it. Of course the trademark cops show up and feel free to groan when they do, but well everyone had to start somewhere and for historical reasons Chaplin’s cinematic debut still is worth watching.

A Fool There Was (1915) - Frank Powell

I’ve often heard of Theda Bara as the 20th Century’s first sex symbol, or the screens ultimate vamp. I have no idea what the hell a vamp is other than outdated teens slang from a billion years ago. My first thought, due to the heavy eye shadow and pale skin was that maybe she was a legit vampire, or played one in the films, but well apparently the word meant something different back then. Just as Clara Bow was the “It” Girl and along with Joan Crawford and Louise Brooks the definition of the flapper, Theda Bara wore the mantle of vamp forever. Her career as a relevant sex goddess was somewhat short lived and this film is probably the one best remembered. Watching it you may find it extremely hard to figure out why the hell anyone thought she was attractive at all, but again different era. The acting is the type that you see when people are making fun of silent film acting, big exaggerated gestures that make the performances in Caligari seem restrained. The entire film is available on Google Videos so feel free to check it out.

The Tramp (1915) - Charlie Chaplin

Chaplin’s definitive early short and the one that forever brought us arguably the most famous character in film history is The Tramp. Hard to even imagine Chaplin as a different character, something that’s made his later features good as they are somewhat forgettable by comparison. The story is somewhat typical of the films Chaplin would make for a long time, humor mixed with some pathos. After helping out a lady in distress he gets a job helping out around their farm, where he makes a comical blunder of things, then mistaking the lady’s excitement at her brother’s return for her lover, he takes his cue to exit. The familiar image of the tramp back on the road at the end is one that would return quite a bit for Chaplin, but for those interested in the evolution of the character need to see this. Would have been nice if the version I saw wasn’t a low grade Chinese bootleg.

The Pawnshop (1916) - Chaplin

I may have mentioned earlier that Chaplin was the star of this chapter, along with Griffith, and well I had already seen all the Griffith films. This might be Chaplin’s best short. In it he works at a Pawnshop, go figure and well as one would expect he turns the small storefront into one giant comic prop. The boss’s daughter gives him a degree of motivation and a much larger co-worker gives him some competition, as well as a setup for nearly all the gags. In it Chaplin proceeds to take apart an alarm clock piece by piece and then rejecting it, handing the scraps to the would be seller, he falls for a con artist who sells rings with an overly emotional plea, and inexplicably finds a way to save the day from a would-be robber (who of course has a huge handlebar mustache). It’s amazing to think how every one of the major silent comedians did their own stunts. In one unbroken shot Chaplin gets on top of a tall ladder, shakes back and forth while cleaning, and eventually topples over only to roll around and stand back up, something that would probably take 10 shots and a stunt double to do today. They don’t make ’em like that anymore.

The Rink (1916) - Chaplin

Ever want to see Chaplin’s little tramp wait tables and roller skate? Then you’re in luck. Essentially Chaplin donned some roller skates and decided that was enough of a gimmick to set this film apart. Now this has the aforementioned scene with the customer twirling his sweet stache to attract a rather overweight lady, but essentially Chaplin makes a horrible mess of being a waiter, serving people the wrong food, sometimes even serving them clothes, and eventually getting on some roller skates, dodging trouble and getting back at that always present big bully. At this point in his career though pretty much all of Chaplin’s films were golden.

Easy Street (1917) - Chaplin

See a pattern here? Easy Street has a bit of a street mob reeking havoc, mainly one extremely large and freakishly strong ringleader who makes mince meat out of cops. Chaplin’s tramp is given a job as a police officer and thrown into the proverbial lion’s den immediately. Noticing the police casualties he begins to panic but brains outweigh brawn here, after a time. Realizing that his lousy baton wouldn’t do anything, the big gorilla even bends a street lamp. Charlie thinks on his feet and puts the big louts head in the gas lamp where he knocks ’em out with the gas. He then has the time to woo a neighboring lady who gets kidnapped by the mob, and well lots of running around and comical violence commences. Chaplin fans will note that he was a one woman man, at a time that is, and Edna Purviance was the lady in nearly all of these films. Over 8 years she appeared in roughly 30 films with Chaplin, not a bad thing to put on a resume.

Teddy at the Throttle (1917) - Sennett

There are plenty of people who discover classic film and see a movie called Sunset Boulevard. They get an idea that Gloria Swanson was this huge over the top drag queen and then they look back to her silent film days and their opinion is somewhat reinforced, at least about her being a diva. Von Stroheim’s Queen Kelly is a good indicator, and well anyone who worked with Cecil B. De Mille is always in danger of being over the top, clearly no filmmaker in Hollywood history can claim to be as pretentious for his time. Then you dig a little deeper and find that Swanson started out as a comedian, at that one time factory of stars, Keystone. Now if there’s anything Mack Sennett was it certainly wasn’t subtle, so perhaps her over the top training started immediately, but watching this film, which also features an early Wallace Beery performance as the villain is quite perplexing to notice just how young everyone was at one point in time. Rather than bumbling cops, the “star” of this one is actually a dog, and those looking at the novelty of dogs in silent films might just get a kick out of this pre-Lassie smart dog who saves the day.

Films of the Period

1914
A Fool There Was (Frank Powell)
Judith of Bethulia (David Wark Griffith)
Making a Living (Mack Sennett)
The Squaw Man (Cecil B. De Mille)
Tillie’s Punctured Romance (Sennett)

1915
The Birth of a Nation (Griffith)
The Tramp (Charles Chaplin)

1916
Civilization (Thomas H. Ince)
Intolerance (Griffith)
The Pawnshop (Chaplin)
The Rink (Chaplin)

1917
Easy Street (Chaplin)
The Immigrant (Chaplin)
Teddy at the Throttle (Sennett)

1918
Hearts of the World (Griffith)
Shoulder Arms (Chaplin)

1919
Broken Blossoms (Griffith)