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domino, I'm heartened to hear that you've discovered a new favorite after many, many swings and misses, particularly considering that that is not necessarily a title that I would have recommended to you knowing of your primary interests.

Well I submitted my list & surprised by what I had to excise. It was actually pretty easy to do, as there were more than enough films on it that I gave a 10 to on IMDB and more 9's to fill up a list of over 100 titles. I guess I could reserve the right to change it, but I've seen 70-80% of the films on the list & doubt that it would change much if I finally get around to seeing the ones I haven't & I rarely re-assess movies I saw when I was young more than a point upon re-viewing.

Here are the casualties, make of it what you will:

50. Blade Runner Ridley Scott
51. 8 1/2 Federico Fellini
52. Taxi Driver Martin Scorsese
53. 2001: A Space Odyssey Stanley Kubrick
54. Seven Samurai Akira Kurosawa
55. Bride of Frankenstein James Whale
56. Ugetsu Kenji Mizoguchi
57. City Lights Charles Chaplin
58. Walkabout Nicolas Roeg
59. Sunrise F.W. Murnau
60. Brief Encounter David Lean
61. L'eclisse Michelangelo Antonioni
62. Double Indemnity Billy Wilder
63. L'Atalante Jean Vigo
64. Z Costa-Gavras
65. M Fritz Lang
66. Wings of Desire Wim Wenders
67. Chinatown Roman Polański
68. The Godfather Francis Ford Coppola
69. City of God Fernando Meirelles & Kátia Lund
70. Out of the Past Jacques Tourneur
71. 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days Cristian Mungiu
72. Fucking Åmål Lukas Moodysson
73. The Devil Is a Woman Josef von Sternberg
74. Gold Diggers of 1933 Mervyn LeRoy
75. Happy Together Wong Kar-wai
76. L'Humanité Bruno Dumont
77. Imitation of Life Douglas Sirk
78. Lawrence of Arabia David Lean
79. Der letzte Mann F.W. Murnau
80. Paris Is Burning Jennie Livingston
81. Pather Panchali Satyajit Ray
82. Persona Ingmar Bergman
83. Port of Shadows Marcel Carné
84. Raging Bull Martin Scorsese
85. Rome, Open City Roberto Rossellini
86. The Rules of the Game Jean Renoir
87. Solaris Andrei Tarkovsky
88. This Is Spinal Tap Rob Reiner
89. The Man Who Wasn't There Joel & Ethan Coen
90. Touch of Evil Orson Welles
91. Veronika Voss Rainer Werner Fassbinder
92. Design For Living Ernst Lubitsch
93. Three Colors: Red Krzysztof Kieślowski
94. Rebecca Alfred Hitchcock
95. The Piano Jane Campion
96. L'avventura Michelangelo Antonioni
97. The Third Man Carol Reed
98. Battleship Potemkin Sergei Eisenstein
99. A Face in the Crowd Elia Kazan
100. I Walked with a Zombie Jacques Tourneur

Still best part of two months to go because of the extension. The thread doesn't need people posting final lists or their cutoffs now.

swo17 wrote:domino, I'm heartened to hear that you've discovered a new favorite after many, many swings and misses, particularly considering that that is not necessarily a title that I would have recommended to you knowing of your primary interests.

Like knives, I'm not quite sure it will make my list, but it's the first film I watched for the project that caused me to seriously contemplate placing it. Given two plus months to think it over, it may sneak in yet (or, hopefully, maybe there's another masterpiece or two hiding in my remaining 60 unseen films and I have to do some serious re-configuring-- like having to buy new clothes after losing weight, it's a good problem to have). And I think part of my strong reaction is due to how far from my usual wheelhouse it is. That's one of the best things about casting a wide net: sometimes you get hooked in by an unexpected treasure (is that metaphor mixed enough?)

TMDaines wrote:Still best part of two months to go because of the extension. The thread doesn't need people posting final lists or their cutoffs now.

Plus apparently Lowry submitted a film ranked at zero

His list has another film at 50, maybe they're tied.

For those who want to be efficient with their viewings, here are the eligible titles from the All Time List master list that are also eligible for this summer's Cannes Top Award Winners Mini-List:

Apocalypse Now
Barton Fink
Blue is the Warmest Color
Brief Encounter
the Conversation
the Cranes Are Flying
Dancer in the Dark
Elephant
Farewell My Concubine
4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days
La dolce vita
the Leopard
Paris, Texas
the Piano
Pulp Fiction
Rome, Open City
Rosetta
Taste of Cherry
Taxi Driver
the Third Man
the Tree of Life
the Umbrellas of Cherbourg
Underground
Viridiana
the Wages of Fear

Thanks for that list, Dom! Though Wild at Heart didn't rank as an All-Time contender.

Whoops, right you are! Fixed now!

Fireworks
Watching this delivered the disappointing realization that I'll never again get from Kitano the visceral and shocking experience that watching Violent Cop for the first time gave. I've yet to see a bad film by hm and this one has a lot of daring and great elements that push film further than Violent Cop did, but the experience is far weaker. The film has this fabulous colour Bresson feeling (though I suspect Tati and Buster Keaton were bigger influences) that I wish was more strictly maintained with no dialogue, excepting one scene, for Kitano. The use of montage is wonderful too. Not just the elliptical storytelling which is nice, but is an old hat for Kitano. Rather the stunner is the Kulshev editing which gives Kitano a complicated character and also allows for some healthy character building on occasion. About forty minutes in when the old partner is looking at flowers and remembering paintings speaks volumes for everybody and also delivers a great filmic way to communicate the idea of reminiscences. It's an extremely touching and human moment in an artist who sometimes seems possessed by humanity's ugliness. I think the film could have been something else completely without dialogue. The film also manages to be at its funniest in these silent moments.

That's the thing though. For all of the positives on display Kitano eases out of them in ways that aren't fulfilling. The story after a while takes on a straight forward motion dropping all elliptical devices and leaving a much more clear and as a result much more plainly sentimental film. Likewise he breaks his dialogue rule so often that when a thematically essential break finally occurs a lot of its power is reduced into an ordinary act for a film that leaves the sense that it is utterly ordinary.

Quick notes on this week's rewatches, along with L'Avventura.

The River. Still a favorite of mine. A lyrical film that’s full of charm and that intoxicates with its incredible, colorful visuals. The intrigue is feather-light but serves broader but subtle symbolic themes of love, sex, death and rebirth. The documentary-like scenes of the Indian river (echoing the many other rivers in Renoir: Partie de campagne, The Southerner, Boudu), the transporting music, the wonderful Krishna and Radha dance sequences – just so much to enjoy.

Francesco, giullare di Dio. The humble simplicity of the Franciscan monk has its parallel in the film’s form, including the episodic nature of the narrative. I still care for it but it won’t make my list this time. I don’t have a favorite film director anymore (at one point it was Hitchcock – Ford, Godard have been competitors for the top spot), but Rossellini is definitely up there in the top 5 or 6. But my favorite films of his are amongst the Bergman series and the later history films.

Black Narcissus. I guess I’m a sucker for Rumer Godden adaptations! I was surprised at how much I was still enchanted by this one. Like The Red Shoes, just gorgeous visuals and colours. The tone is light or airy, on the verge of fantasy as frequently happens in P&P (which can be a slight turnoff for me – I usually go more for realism), but there’s a serious or darker undercurrent at the same time. At one point the story is on the verge of becoming silly when one of the sisters turns into a scary erotic-charged devouring creature (it feels we’re in the midst of a Hammer horror film!), but this is a really minor flaw. Wonderful characters and terrific actors, sets and costumes, and a story that, like The River, leaves you with the gentlest sense of a spiritual journey and transformation.

2001: A Space Odyssey. Still holds up today, and the slight flaws are forgivable given the gargantuan nature of the ambition here. The technical aspects – the photography, the special effects – are still incredibly impressive. And Kubrick hit upon genius when he decided to score his films with already pre-existing music from the great composers. I like the fact that the four sections of the film are partially discontinuous, which adds to the experience of disorientation and the sense of epic scale. All of them are interesting but the third is by far the most engrossing. I also like the way the film doesn’t reveal its larger, cryptic meaning until the very end.

Only Angels Have Wings. I’ve already seen this a couple of more times recently with the different blu-ray releases, but this new viewing just confirmed my esteem and enjoyment of this film. Engrossing drama with mature themes, thrilling adventure pieces with impressive aerial shots, and stellar romantic comedy & musical bits (best Jean Arthur here for me, along with Easy Living). Great sets and atmosphere, all the characters forming a sort of family, that I’m always glad to re-immerse myself in.

Chinatown. Like my experience with Apocalypse Now the previous week, I wouldn’t have thought of this film if someone asked me what are my favorite movies, but every time I watch it I’m surprised at how good this is, with one terrific scene after another, and I had no reason to downgrade it whatsoever. A terrifically compelling narrative, and executed perfectly in every way. I don’t think Nicholson has ever been better, and considering how many of my top films he stars in (Five Easy Pieces, Easy Rider, Cuckoo, The Passenger, until my latest viewing The Shining), I have to appreciate the immense contribution he brought to cinema.

Re: Jean Arthur's best: you like her here better than in the More the Merrier even? None of the above wil make my list, with only Only Angels Have Wings even in contention for me (my list will still have plenty of Hawks to make up for it though). I've had the opposite experience with Chinatown, in that I like it less every time I see it (though it's still a fine film)

The More the Merrier is close.

Only Angels and Red River are the only Hawks films I think will make my list - though there's 2 others I'll revisit.

Nope, not that one! I forgot The Big Sleep, though - likely 3 will make the list, and a possible other two...

Glad to hear about the extension because I'm already late.

A few watches from this week:

Sweet Smell of Success - Some seriously good writing in this one, although that doesn't seem to be a particularly revelatory opinion having researched people's responses to this one. The dialogue is so sharp and witty, but it requires quite a level of comprehension. My missus (non-native English speaker) really struggled to follow the plot early on and the intended nuances and barbs of the discussions.

Only Angels Have Wings - I could have watched another two hours of this cast. By the end of the film, I felt as if I had watched several series worth of incidents, relationships and knew the characters like the back of my hand. Such a brilliant, enjoyable film. I love Cary Grant and this film is great vehicle for him with excellent supporting roles.

Morning’s Tree-Lined Street - I like the city symphony; far less keen on the dream gimmick.

The Man Who Wasn't There - This is a fair film, but there's nothing remarkable about it at all, no aspect of it is really memorable and noteworthy. Watching it with the cream of the noir from its golden period really highlights this film's completely average nature.

Edit: rogue comma

TMDaines wrote:The Man Who Wasn't There - This is a fair film, but there's nothing remarkable about it at all, no aspect of it is really memorable and noteworthy. Watching it with the cream of the noir from its golden period really highlights, this film's completely average nature.

I was disappointed as well when I saw this in the theater. Other than Thornton's eccentric voice-over, it didn't offer much in the way of new wrinkles to a very well-worn story. You'd think the writer-directors of Fargo and Blood Simple could've come up with something a little more novel.

I do find the eligible Coen brothers choices to be baffling though some of that's down to poor participation in the '90s list.

The Conversation (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974)

“You're not supposed to feel anything about it. You're just supposed to do it.”

One of New Hollywood’s best genre reconfigurations, largely because Coppola’s filmmaking always remains specific to his main character, and that it’s a kind of character rarely seen in movies makes it all the more powerful. So much of the film is spent carefully observing each of Caul’s stuttering calculations, hesitations, and evasions that when the genre elements do appear, they’re uncanny (particularly Harrison Ford’s character and performance) and impactful. The economy here is incredible, and it’s taken me several viewings to realize just how many things occur in concert during a single scene.

For example, in the scene between Meredith and Caul in the warehouse, as she’s asking him questions, the camera does a half-rotation from her to him and then cuts back to its original position and does this two more times, creating an inventive shot reverse shot variation that emphasizes the invasive (or invasive to him, at least) conversation and forms a rhyme with the movie’s final shot. Later in the same scene, Caul lies in bed as the recording plays, “…he was once somebody's baby boy, and he had a mother and a father who loved him, and now there he is, half dead on a park bench, and where are his mother or his father, all his uncles now?” This shot resembles an earlier shot of the homeless man in the opening scene, further emphasizing its point.

The Psycho homage, though expected from a Movie Brat, is also inspired; screeching violins replaced by electronic buzzing, chaotic cutting not for the victim of violence but for the witness, and blood not running down the drain but up it. This reference to the ultimate tale of maternal conflict also relates to Caul’s mother issues (Mother Mary, fetal imagery, his need for extended care in his childhood, his mother saving his life, and his tenuous relationships with women) in an interesting way. Another key point of reference is Michael Snow’s Wavelength, a precursor to The Conversation’s opening shot which also has a simultaneous visual zoom and “audio zoom” and an implicit connection between a zoom across a vast space towards an unknown destination and an investigative crime thriller, with as many misdirections as clues (an idea which Jonathan Rosenbaum expounds on in his review of Wavelength). The scenes of sound mixing similarly act as a redux of Man With A Movie Camera’s editing sequence for the sound era, where the audience sees the movie’s post-production work side-by-side with the final film.

This is a movie worth returning to for the little details: the plastic blue screen in Caul’s workshop, the sweat dripping down his face in the penultimate scene, the unfinished sentence hurled at Stanley, and many more, including of course, Murch’s detailed sound design. This was my first time seeing the movie on blu-ray and the upgrade worked wonders for the soundtrack. From the essay “Citing the Sound” by Jay Beck: “The sound mix is heightened to emphasize what things would sound like to someone who spent his life listening in on other people’s conversations—everything is louder and more present than normal. Walter Murch mixed the optical track with the loudest passages at a maximum modulation while refusing to use compression or expansion on the rest of the soundtrack. The result is a film that sounds unusually quiet until certain passages are encountered in which the volume of the soundtrack is startling.”

I like The Conversation more every time I see it, and I prefer it to The Godfather movies, for its unusual perspective, thanks to its specificity of character, and because its view of corruption is more thoughtful and tragic than their resigned cynicism. It’s unlikely it will make my list, but I sure hope it makes some of yours.

New member, so I'm somewhat reluctant to submit a list, but I will say again that I appreciate seeing these varied and passionate discussions/defenses. I've added many to my list because of this. Somewhat coincidentally I have revisited a number of these films recently; I'll add a few brief thoughts. All the following films I have seen within the past two to three months:

Children of Men
I had not seen this since its initial theatrical run; this time around I wasn't struck so much by the film being relevant or correct about the future so much as I was struck by the scene when Theo (Clive Owen) visits his cousin Nigel, a prominent government figure and art collector/preserver. The images used in this scene may seem obvious, but I think it connects the film to a theme close to two other films on the list, Holy Motors and the Grand Budapest Hotel. In all of these films there's an artistic figure who seems out of place in a very cynical society. When Theo asks him why he does it, Nigel simply replies "I just don't think about it." While his statement may seem empty, I think it suggests a willingness to plunge ahead. Nigel, like Denis Lavant and M. Gustave, is keeping an artistic tradition alive.

The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoise
I'm sure everyone on this board has an art film that opened them up to the world of international film and the history of cinema. Along with 8 1/2, this was that film for me in high school. Watching it again years later I thought I'd be disappointed, but if anything I was left just as elated and wishing there was more of a screw you surrealist spirit still rampant among us today. I guess it's fitting that I'm struggling to describe what about this experience still enchants me. The French army sequence still gets me going; Fernando Rey eating a sandwich under the table will always be one of my favorite images of the cinema, logic be damned.

Last Year at Marienbad
It's been stated time and again that this is an utterly gorgeous black and white film: so I say it again, this is an absolutely and utterly gorgeous black and white film. I think the obvious effect (or defect) of this film is that it's open-ended yet circular. There are potential clues placed here and there, such as the story in the prologue. Whenever I rewatch it, I tend to search for the possible discrepancies, the places where we begin to see what could be false memories and a distorted consciousness. I'm not sure I've seen it stated, or if Robbe-Grillet or Resnais would have this source, but my most recent viewing had me thinking of some of Keats' poems. His reflection on the enchanting power of beauty, the lovers on the urn forever stuck, definitely seem to be echoed. For X, time stands still: he permanently tries to relive his obsession ("I must have you"). For A, memory is haunting and fragmented (her constant physical gestures and voice overs suggesting: let me be). The film seems to go between these two, while mirroring and echoing itself (and other works) throughout.

Welcome to the board and please do feel welcome to submit a list!

Opfergang
The use of colour here is without question amazing in its daring. The reds, whites, blues, and greens stand out and shock in such an uneasy and brilliant way. If this were just a swirl of those colours this would be as great a film as everyone whispers. The first half of this, before the ball, is so stiff and mediocre that the decadence that some of the later half has can't recover no matter how high it tries to climb. The four leads, even in the second better half, are petrified wood and a lot of the blocking seems perfunctory when there's not some big event happening. The camera too even during the ball and other scenes seems a bit dead reminding me of Browning's Dracula which is never a good thing. The only element that consistently matches the colours in greatness is that haunting score.

The story proper as well was totally lacked involvement for me while the attempts at structuring with the flavour of fascism are surprisingly subdued in a way where I feel like shrugging and moving on. Obviously there is a fair amount of historical importance here and I'm glad to have seen this because it helps to get a more real picture of the time and place but honestly the historical merit is the only one I can fully endorse. After a few films from the Third Reich I'm mostly left wondering if there were any consistently good filmmakers besides Rienfenstahl around. This film recalls for me several others like von Sternberg's, Leave Her to Heaven, Sirk, and especially Chabrol but it doesn't achieve the consistency and high qualities of the aspects which are not purely aesthetic that those do. The love for Harlan's approach remains a mystery for now.

My Darling Clementine. Definitely one of my favorite Fords. A beautiful film and it stands out by how visually dark it is for most of it – a lot of night sequences or scenes in darkly light interiors. Which matches how tough and dark the narrative frequently is. Dramatically it wanders a bit in the middle sections, which isn’t unusual for Ford, but then again all the scenes work. And the shoot-out scene at the end is terrifically choreographed and shot. And of course Fonda is remarkable – I can’t imagine this film being what it is without the singular character he creates.

Holiday. The best of the screwballs are well represented in this list. This is one of mine, even though I didn’t like it quite as much as the previous times. Class warfare, the virtues of drunkenness – frequently delightful. The irreverence and freedom celebrated in Johnny and Linda is not quite matched in a direction that’s a bit straitlaced compared to some of the other entries in this genre. As good as Grant is, the young Hepburn steals the show with her quite equal energy and spirit tinged with sadness and vulnerability.

Germany, Year Zero. Beautiful in its simplicity, striking in its use of the dramatic locations, and truly heart-rending. I just noticed that the film starts with Edmund digging in the graveyard…

The Awful Truth. Some of these titles I’m watching again because they’re highly ranked in the pre-existing list I’m revisiting, but some of them I put there many years ago and over time my ranking has become more severe, so I’m already going in expecting many to get downgraded. This is one of them. I love Irene Dunne in this one, and Grant is terrific as always, but it’s uneven. The best scenes are in the third act – Lucy pretending to be Jerry’s sister, the zany drunken car trip, and the cabin – and of course everything involving Mr. Smith (the dog) – and the cat! That last one actually made me laugh out loud.

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. I don’t find this film to be affecting in the way the framing intends it to be – the nostalgia and sadness over the past and what it meant, so that the beginning and end don’t resonate that strongly with me. But it’s such a strong film nevertheless. All of the scenes making up the main narrative are extremely good – they way they’re shot, played, etc. The restaurant scenes and the fun in the exchanges between all of the terrific actors/characters, the amazing villain that Lee Marvin plays, and John Wayne every time he’s on screen. I haven’t seen most of Wayne’s films, but I’ve seen him in some where his acting is less than stellar (Hondo), but in every Hawks and Ford film he’s a terrific natural actor, and never more so than here – whether it’s simple reactions to other actors’ deliveries, or that powerful scene where he gets suicidally drunk.

La Bête humaine. Poetic realism meets the harsh realism of Zola. Jean Gabin actually made two poetic realism films set in or around Le Havre in he same year, the second being Carné’s much more stylized Le Quai des brumes (Port of Shadows). Conventional melodramatic story but lots of atmosphere and filmed marvelously – the locomotive scenes, the disturbing little “love” scene near the beginning where Gabin walks in the field. Strong Renoir, but not enough to make my list though.

Alien. By chance, I saw this again Friday night, at the same time I found out John Hurt had died (the first show of the crew is their sleeping pods being opened and John Hurt waking up front and center). What can I say about this one? It always stands out among the very top of the science fiction genre. The mood, the slow set-up and mystery of what’s going to happen, the production design, the crisp photography. I always end up being (almost) slightly disappointed when it eventually turns into an action film, but the ending is memorable.