Edward's Best of the 1980s

1. The Shining (1980)

Even after multiple viewings, The Shining still frightens and haunts me. Jack Nicholson plays a struggling writer who takes a job as caretaker at a hotel in the mountains during the isolated winter months. When he moves his wife (Shelley Duvall) and young son (Danny Lloyd) in, things start to go very, very wrong. I've never been a fan of Kubrick, but I love this film immensely: the controlled directorial style allows the natural horrors of the situation to seep through. And given that the film is about a writer's paranoia, it's only right that we have ample time to become as convinced as he is that malign forces are at work in the labyrinthine hotel. Nicholson is splendid, both fearsome and touching, yet always entertaining, while Duvall is just superb as his strung-out wife, a good woman driven to the brink of breakdown by her terrifying husband while trying to do what she can to save her disturbed, 'shining' son. Almost every scene in this film is great, yet the set-pieces are never pretentious or artificial, and always move the story along effectively.

2. The Stunt Man (1980)

Okay, okay, okay, it's in my top ten! I admit it, this was not an easy choice to make. There were half a dozen movies which could have been here instead, all of which probably give me more guaranteed pleasure with each viewing. But The Stunt Man is a unique film, with unique pleasures. Richard Rush has had a halting, marginal career, but with this film, he did his bit: it's the work of a lifetime. Steve Railsback's harassed, paranoid Viet vet is put through his paces - and then some - by Peter O'Toole's dictatorial director, who is willing to use anyone and everyone - including leading lady Barbara Hershey - in his quest to make his war film. How the stunt man negotiates these supremely choppy and unenviable waters makes for a terrifically involving story, with no end of surprising and offbeat directorial coups. Bonus points for the dog licking its balls in the opening sequence, the night-time scene between Railsback and Hershey before the big final day, and especially Dominic Frontiere's rascally score, which gets endless mileage out of its witty theme tune.

3. The Great Muppet Caper (1981)

Jim Henson's artistic sensibility was perfectly suited to kids, his work full of classic entertainment - songs, silly voices, and sweet, sophisticated humour - while also having educational value and a gentle morality. The Muppet films were a very successful extension of the TV series, and The Great Muppet Caper is a really excellent movie for all ages. Kermit, Fozzie and Gonzo are reporters sent to London to cover the theft of fashionista Lady Holliday's diamond. She (Diana Rigg) is a grande dame par excellence, but unaware that her layabout brother (Charles Grodin) is the thief. And of course, Miss Piggy falls for Kermit... What seals the deal with this film is the terrific cluster of songs, composed by Joe Raposo in the style of classical American showbiz entertainment - among other things, this film deserves to be seen as a top movie musical. I loved it and watched it repeatedly when I was a kid, didn't see it for twenty years, and now, on seeing it again, realise that it has stood the test of time.

4. Stop Making Sense (1984)

I was a little surprised that this didn't make Andrew's top ten, but perhaps it was close? For me, this concert movie, directed by Jonathan Demme, and with not a little artistic input from David Byrne, is so comprehensively put together that it transcends its 'live' origins to create a series of abstract musical puzzles, perfectly ordered and paced, and totally satisfying, intellectually and musically. Byrne makes a great front man, the rest of the band plays tight - and really enjoy the music they create - and the makers work wonders with camera angles, lighting, and off-the-cuff filming. So strong a film it is, I would wager that you don't need to be a Talking Heads fan to enjoy it.

5. Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (1985)

Paul Schrader's best film, and one which deserved to do better - or even some - business. It's a biopic of Japan's famous post-war writer Yukio Mishima, told in three parallel strands - naturalistic recreation of the last day of his life, black and white account of his early years, and lush, multi-coloured recreations of scenes from some of his novels. This structure is fitting for someone who sought, his whole life, to unite his work and his desire for action, which, here, he finally does, in the 'harmony of pen and sword'. Helped by his reserved leading man Ken Ogata, Schrader presents Mishima as a multi-faceted and conflicted character - prolific author, celebrity, traditionalist, lover of Western culture, closeted homosexual and militarised, self-styled outcast. The visual surprises and glories are matched by Philip Glass's iconic score - those wonderfully ominous cells of music - and amazing production and costume design. It's one of the best films about the pleasure and pain of being a writer, and a very literate, unconventional biopic.

6. Come and See (1985)

This is a movie which has a mighty and awesome reputation, wholly deserved. Elem Klimov's final film (he felt he had nothing more to say after having made it) is an account of the Nazi stranglehold on Belarus in the Second World War. This terrible period is seen through the eyes of an adolescent boy, Florya (Alexei Kravchenko, billed as A. Kravchenko), who has run away to join the guerrillas and gets an abrupt, and unforgettable, lesson in the art of war. Klimov anchors the movie in a firm reality, then embellishes it with surrealistic touches which increase our identification with Florya's experience - the high-pitched whistle on the soundtrack when the boy is rendered temporarily deaf by bombing, the toppling trees, the wade through the swamp, and the whole second half of the film, which, with its extended Nazi atrocities, is as terrifying and devastating as movies can get. But it's ironic that when a movie actually earns those overused epithets, it does so by showing how futile such descriptions are; Come and See just needs to be seen. The only thing about it which will lift your spirits is the excellence of the moviemaking itself.

7. Crazy Love (1987)

Young Belgian writer-director Dominique Deruddere made a splash with this, his first feature film. Adapted from writings by Charles Bukowski, it's the three-part story of a young man's coming of age, and is a movie which shines a pallid light on the gulf between the ideal of love and the messy, real thing. As a young boy, Harry Voss (Geert Hunaerts) falls for a blonde beauty on the silver screen and is then traumatised by his older friend's initiation into the world of dating and, ahem, girls. A few years later, and suffering from a monstrous case of acne, Harry (now played by Josse de Pauw) finds himself the outcast at the end-of-year disco, but desperate to make an impression on the school sweetheart. Lastly, as an alcoholic adult, Harry must confront his demons when he finds the beautifully preserved corpse of what is probably his ideal woman. By turns funny, farcical, macabre and downright tragic, Crazy Love is a striking and profound movie, a triumph of Belgian cinema, which rides its disturbing sexual and emotional shenanigans on a wave of heartfelt compassion.

8. Moonstruck (1987)

Whatever happened to the romantic comedy genre seems to stem from when they became commonly known as romcoms. Because these days, I never see a good one. Notting Hill is about the best we've had, and it's sweet, silly and, I suppose, romantic, but back in 1987 we had Moonstruck, and thank goodness we still have it today. Plot is simple: lonesome Italian-American widow Loretta (Cher) gets engaged to mamma's boy Johnny (Danny Aiello) and then promptly falls for his estranged brother Ronny (Nicolas Cage). What's a girl to do? Well, it would be helpful to notice the big full moon hovering over Brooklyn, which seems to be setting off Loretta's whole family on various romantic escapades, while Loretta herself has 'those ugly greys' removed from her hair, gets dolled up and goes to La Bohème at the Met with the man she's trying not to fall in love with! Moonstruck, superbly written by John Patrick Shanley and effervescently directed by Norman Jewison, is a magical movie, chock-full of witty lines, demonstrative performances and affairs of the heart. It's a movie imbued with the spirit of the commedia all'Italiana, and Cher proves herself an actress worthy of the status of Sophia Loren.

9. Nuovo Cinema Paradiso (1988)

Writer-director Giuseppe Tornatore had made only one film before this catapulted him to international attention. It's easy to see why it lapped up audiences: in its tale of the friendship across the years between a young boy and a cinema projectionist at a small cinema in Sicily, it tells a simple, touching story, while also paying tribute to the very act of movie-going. But Nuovo Cinema Paradiso strikes a deeper chord than mere adulation: it builds its story on a bedrock of disappointment, missed opportunities, loss and regret, which goes a long way to counterbalancing the sentimentality for the provincial movie house of the title, a balance sustained by Ennio and Andrea Morricone's luscious but aching orchestral score. It's important to note that these qualities come through much louder and clearer in the director's cut, which flopped upon initial release, was edited down into the Oscar-winning extravaganza everybody knows, and was then re-released to more acclaim in the '90s. There are charming and effective performances from the three actors who play central character Totò: Salvatore Cascio as the young boy, Marco Leonardi as the lovelorn youth, and Jacques Perrin as the celebrated, but unhappy filmmaker in middle age; while Philippe Noiret plays the cantankerous but always loveable projectionist, whose wisdom might be summed up as 'cruel to be kind'.

10. Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989)

Woody Allen was, for me, the filmmaker of the decade, with pretty much all of his films from this period being a cut above the norm. Broadway Danny Rose, The Purple Rose of Cairo and Hannah and Her Sisters are all yapping at the coat-tails (or pasta-covered table cloth) of my '80s top ten; Crimes and Misdemeanors trumps them all and remains for me, with Annie Hall, Allen's best work. It's a film which takes on a weighty issue - how to have morals in a godless universe - and tackles it through two stories in one: a dark and dramatic tale of a philandering opthamologist (Martin Landau) who is toying with having his mistress (Anjelica Huston) bumped off and a witty love triangle involving Woody Allen's hapless documentary filmmaker, Mia Farrow's sweet and pragmatic production manager and Alan Alda's pompous television magnate. Through juggling these narrative strands, Allen creates a fully-rounded portrait of life's ups and downs, and presides over uniformly excellent performances from his extensive cast. And, given that his concentration on the bourgeoisie has attracted some criticism over the years, this film, like the later Match Point, uses its privileged characters in order to comment on the corrupting nature of power and money, and the necessary endurance of the opposites.

Ten performances of the decade

Men:

A. Kravchenko in Come and See (1985)
Jeff Bridges in Jagged Edge (1985)
Jon Voight in Runaway Train (1985)
Sean Connery in The Name of the Rose (1986)
James Woods in Salvador (1986)

Women:

Shelley Duvall in The Shining (1980)
Diane Keaton in Reds (1981)
Meryl Streep in Silkwood (1983)
Sigourney Weaver in Aliens (1986)
Cher in Moonstruck (1987)

Late Homework 3: Ed's Performances Redux

Well, I can't resist! As you guys have chosen five men and five women for each decade, I figured I'd better add to my measly three! So here is a recap of my performance picks from the 2000s and the 1990s with the choices upped to five apiece. My '80s performances will appear with my top ten list in a few days' time.

2000s:

Men:

Michael Douglas in Wonder Boys (2000)
Anderson Ballesteros in Our Lady of the Assassins (2000)
Olivier Gourmet in Le Fils (2002)
Morgan Marinne in Le Fils (2002)
Maurice Bénichou in Caché (2005)

Women:

Charlotte Rampling in Under the Sand (2000)
Laura Elena Harring in Mulholland Drive (2001)
Naomi Watts in Mulholland Drive (2001)
Isabelle Huppert in The Piano Teacher (2001)
Julie Delpy in Before Sunset (2004)

1990s:

Men:

Gérard Depardieu in Cyrano de Bergerac (1990)
Al Pacino in Dick Tracy (1990)
Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven (1992)
Sean Penn in Carlito's Way (1993)
Robert Forster in Jackie Brown (1997)

Women:

Jodie Foster in The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
Judy Davis in Husbands and Wives (1992)
Meryl Streep in The Bridges of Madison County (1995)
Judi Dench in Shakespeare in Love (1998)
Julia Roberts in Notting Hill (1999)

Late Homework 2: Later Homework

Ten Performances of the 2000s:

The Gentlemen:

• Michael Nyqvist – Together (2000)
• Chiwetel Ejiofor – Dirty Pretty Things (2002)
• Thomas Jane – Stander (2003)
• Jack Black – School of Rock (2003)
• Michael Shannon – Bug (2006)

The Ladies:

• Molly Parker – The Center of the World (2001)
• Naomi Watts – Mulholland Dr. (2001)
• Charlize Theron – Monster (2003)
• Julie Delpy – Before Sunset (2004)
• Catherine Keener – The 40 Year Old Virgin (2005)

Ten Performances of the 1990s:

The Ladies:

• Jodie Foster – The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
• Irène Jacob – Three Colors: Red (1994)
• Radha Mitchell – High Art (1998)
• Samantha Morton – Jesus' Son (1999)
• Melora Walters – Magnolia (1999)

The Gentlemen:

• Tim Roth – Reservoir Dogs (1992)
• Sean Penn – Carlito’s Way (1993)
• Jeffrey Wright – Basquiat (1996)
• Robert Forster – Jackie Brown (1997)
• Don Cheadle – Boogie Nights (1997)

Late Homework

I have been lax on my homework, not including favorite performances with my lists. So here are my top ten favorite performance per decade, to catch up on the three released lists...

Top Ten Performances of the 2000s

The Men:

Terrence Howard - Hustle and Flow (2005)
Chiwetel Ejiofor - Dirty Pretty Things (2002)
Daniel Day-Lewis - Gangs of New York (2002)
Fred Willard - Best in Show (2000)
Mark Ruffalo - You Can Count on Me (2000)

The Women:

Kate Winslet - Little Children (2006)
Reese Witherspoon - Walk the Line (2005)
Rachel McAdams - Wedding Crashers (2005)
Naomi Watts - Mulholland Drive (2001)
Ellen Burstyn - Requiem for a Dream (2000)

Top Ten Performances of the 1990s

The Women:

Melora Walters - Magnolia (1999)
Genevieve Bujold - The House of Yes (1997)
Catherine Keener - Living in Oblivion (1995)
Natalie Portman - The Professional (1994)
Marcia Gay Harden - Miller’s Crossing (1990)

The Men:

Jude Law - The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)
Ed Norton - American History X (1998)
Sean Penn - Carlito’s Way (1993)
Jeff Bridges - Fearless (1993)
Jack Lemmon - Glengarry Glen Ross (1992)

Top Ten Performances of the 1980s

The Men:

Billy Zane - Dead Calm (1989)
Kevin Kline - A Fish Called Wanda (1988)
Alan Rickman - Die Hard (1988)
Paul Newman - The Color of Money (1986)
Jack Nicholson - The Shining (1980)

The Women:

Nicole Kidman - Dead Calm (1989)
Ellen Barkin - Sea of Love (1989)
Susan Sarandon - Bull Durham (1988)
Sigourney Weaver - Aliens (1986)
Jennifer Jason Leigh - Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982)

Sam's Best of the 1980s

Blade Runner (1982)

This film spectacularly creates a vivid future, telling a compelling story in addition to pushing the boundaries of special effects. Not only do the effects stand the test of time, but the landscape shots are also some of the most memorable. It is rare that all the aspects of a futuristic world are so well developed, and that makes this dystopic vision of Los Angeles especially affecting. The ensemble cast is great, especially in the charismatic performance by Rutger Hauer.

This Is Spinal Tap (1984)

This movie gets funnier with every viewing. This is one of the best kinds of parodies, made by people who truly love the subject that they mock. There are so many memorable performances, from the leads to the cameos. The songs work as fun music while also being hilarious. The dialogue in this film is among the most quotable of all time: “The review for ‘Shark Sandwich’ was merely a two-word review which simply read ‘Shit Sandwich’.”

After Hours (1985)

This film is a very dark comedy that I have found extremely influential. Simply put, the moral of the story is to be careful what you wish for. Griffin Dunne leads an extremely boring and sheltered life, and decides to mix it up and have a little adventure. Like Tom Cruise will later attempt in “Eyes Wide Shut”, Dunne sets off one night into New York on a sexually disastrous odyssey. The city turns into a nightmarish prison where Dunne interacts with a parade of insane characters. Scorsese’s use of the camera is energetic, and he excels at using visuals to increase the tension.

Better Off Dead (1985)

This movie manages to make fun of 80s teen comedies while simultaneously being one of the best of them. It has an extremely dark premise: John Cusack’s character is dumped by his high school girlfriend, which leads him to spend much of the movie trying to kill himself. In one scene Cusack is doing a problem on the chalkboard in math class, and instead daydreams and draws pictures of the time he had a pregnancy scare with his ex. The math teacher holds him after class, presumably to punish him, but instead asks permission to take Cusack’s ex-girlfriend on a date! There is a fantastic performance by Curtis Armstrong as Cusack’s best friend, and he is even funnier here then in his more famous turn in “Revenge of the Nerds” as Booger. “I’ve been going to this high school for seven and a half years. I’m no dummy.”

Brazil (1985)

This movie is so ambitiously creative. Despite all obstacles, Terry Gilliam created a film that feels like his fears and dreams are transferred right onto the screen. The movie is an exceptional satire of bureaucracy and the struggles of the individual in a conformist society. In the end, the hero is only able to escape by going insane. The conclusion, like the rest of the movie, is both memorable and brilliantly disconcerting.

Full Metal Jacket (1987)

When I first encountered this film I was primarily dazzled by the boot camp sequence. The shot compositions and camera movements are exceptional, as are the performances. R. Lee Ermey is captivating as the drill instructor, giving one of the most memorable performances in cinematic history. The trainees are specifically drawn across the board, with a fine performance by Matthew Modine as the thoughtful and humanly flawed Private Joker. But the most haunting aspect is the disintegration of Vincent D’Onofrio’s Private Pyle. Upon repeat viewings, my appreciation of the Vietnam portion has grown as well. I love the metaphor of the sniper sequence for the entire war, with more and more lives being futilely sacrificed.

No Way Out (1987)

This is a fun and intricately plotted thriller. The story is beautifully structured to trap Kevin Costner’s character, and the joy of the film is watching him scramble to stay ahead of a seemingly inescapable tightening noose. Gene Hackman is a charismatic villain who is having an affair with the same woman as Costner. The film feels very Hitchcockian, with a wrongfully accused innocent man scrambling for survival and to find the truth. The movie also contains a wonderful twist ending.

Die Hard (1988)

This is my favorite summer blockbuster. Great characters, an interesting plot, dazzling action sequences, and quotable one-liners. Bruce Willis is at his smart-assed best since making his name in “Moonlighting”. The movie benefits greatly from the intelligent and witty performance by Alan Rickman, who demonstrates how a highly charismatic villain can engage the audience and strengthen a film.

Midnight Run (1988)

The premise is great, the plot is well-structured, and the dialogue is smart and funny, but the movie stands out because of the amazing performances by Robert De Niro and Charles Grodin. De Niro is exceptional as the beaten down bounty hunter, and Grodin gives a career-best performance highlighted by perfect deadpan reactions. Beyond the comedy, the characters also have depth and heart that makes the audience care about the outcome. Overall, the most memorable aspect of the film is how much fun it is.

Shoot to Kill (1988)

At 61, Sydney Poitier may have seemed an unlikely action hero, but he is at his most cool and charismatic as the leading FBI agent. The movie opens with a very dark sequence, where Poitier leads a negotiation with a jewel thief who has taken a hostage. Under Poitier’s command everything goes to shit, with the hostage being killed and the thief getting away. But this only leads to an obsession for Poitier to get his man, and the movie proceeds with two thrilling fish-out-of-water manhunting sequences. Poitier teams up with a mountain guide played by Tom Berenger, and they are a great odd couple. The two are forced to work together to capture both the thief and his new hostage, Berenger’s girlfriend. The movie has amazing action set pieces, is constantly suspenseful, and yet somehow manages to include comedic interplay between Poitier and Berenger as well.

Andrew's Best of the 1980s

Needless to say, I think the next few decades are going to be particularly tough: so many great films to choose from, so many tough cuts to make. One absentee from my eighties list is worthy of special note, however, as it was the decade's single greatest cinematic achievement: Kieslowski's Dekalog (1989). I chose to omit it from the list because it's technically a television mini-series.

1. The Stunt Man (1980)
   I love Richard Rush's films. The Stunt Man took him nine years and one heart attack to complete, and it pretty much ended his career, but it was worth it! Steve Railsback is terrific as an on-the-lam Vietnam vet who gets enlisted as a stunt man in a war film being directed by the megalomaniacal Eli Cross (Peter O'Toole, never better). He remains in a continual state of paranoia about whether O'Toole is trying to kill him to get a stunt finished, creating a compelling metaphor for the ways in which trust and domination play out in personal relationships. The Stunt Man is also one of the great films about filmmaking: fantasy and reality get blurred and the insanities and egomanias of the Hollywood system are skewered by Rush with extreme prejudice. It's a shame that there aren't more action movies as smart, as sophisticated and as idiosyncratic as this one. It's also a shame that Rush has only completed one film since – Color of Night (1994) – a film which also caused him a heart attack.
   


2. The Shining (1980)
   This is my favorite Kubrick film and is one of only a few Stephen King adaptations that I really like. It’s also one of the few films that still gives me the chills after all these years: "Come play with us, Danny!" If The Stunt Man is one of the great films about the insanity of filmmaking, The Shining is one of the great films about the insanity of writing, with the Overlook Hotel becoming an analogue for the inside of Jack Torrance’s head. Kubrick’s precise, mathematical approach to mise-en-scène and editing creates a genuinely unsettling atmosphere, and the Steadicam has never been put to better use. It's also a surprisingly humorous film with some great, quirky dialogue – especially any scene with Scatman Crothers: "Larry, just between you and me, we got a very serious problem with the people taking care of the place. They turned out to be completely unreliable assholes."
   
   
3. Cutter's Way (1981)
   A film about impotence, apathy, narcissism and responsibility, that asks whether our actions give our lives meaning. Jeff Bridges plays Richard Bone, an apathetic gigolo who witnesses a man disposing of a dead girl in a dark alley. He is quite willing to dismiss and forget about what he saw, but his friend Alex Cutter (John Heard) has other ideas. Cutter is an embittered, alcoholic Vietnam veteran who's missing an eye, a leg, and an arm, and he develops an obsessive drive to prove that a prominent local businessman was the murderer. It's a remarkable, Ahabesque performance from Heard, turning the film into a fascinating fusion of Chinatown and Moby Dick. No less impressive, in much more low-key performances, are Bridges as the terminally passive Bone and Lisa Eichhorn as Cutter's depressed, alcoholic wife. The film also features an awesome score from Jack Nitzsche that uses a combination of glass harmonica, zither and electric strings to haunting effect. Released the same year as some higher profile revivalist noir films – such as Body Heat and The Postman Always Rings Twice – I think Cutter's Way got lost in the mix and has never really received the acclaim it so richly deserves. It is modern-day noir at its best.
   
   
4. Knightriders (1981)
   By the end of the 1970s, George Romero had established himself as one of the preeminent directors of the horror genre, having made such groundbreaking films as Night of the Living Dead (1968), Martin (1976) and Dawn of the Dead (1978). For his first film of the 1980s, Romero confounded expectations by delivering a lengthy, melancholic melodrama about a traveling group who stage Renaissance fairs in which they dress up as knights and joust on motorcycles. It might be the best film on the subject of sixties countercultural idealism entering the Reagan era: the group is a living anachronism with a strong code of ethics modeled on King Arthur's Camelot, and tensions spill over when a handful of the knights split from their king (Ed Harris) and "sell out" to corporate show business. Harris is superlative in his first leading role; the rest of the cast is made up of Romero's stock troupe of players and they are all excellent, especially Tom Savini as the treacherous Morgan.
   


5. Q (1982)
   Made at the tail end of the golden age of drive-in and grindhouse cinema, Q is a satirical, low-budget monster movie about New York City being terrorized by Quetzlcoatl, the winged serpent Aztec god. Michael Moriarty stars as Jimmy Quinn, a petty crook who thinks he might have a shot at the big time when he discovers Quetzlcoatl's nest at the top of the Chrysler Building. Only exploitation auteur Larry Cohen would have the balls to film a full scale monster movie in Manhattan without permits – including a massive gun battle at the top of a skyscraper! The results are an absolute blast and Moriarty's extraordinary performance as a beaten-down loser opportunistically looking for a "Nixon-like pardon" gives the movie an unexpected depth and poignancy.
   


6. Videodrome (1983)
   This list would be incomplete without a film from David Cronenberg, who was one of the few seventies directors to do consistently great work throughout the eighties, including Scanners (1981), The Dead Zone (1983), The Fly (1986) and Dead Ringers (1988). Videodrome was Cronenberg's last Canadian film before heading to Hollywood, and it stars James Woods (at his sleazy best) as Max Renn, a cable television operator who becomes obsessed with a broadcast that is comprised entirely of torture and murder. It's a cold, brutal, hallucination of a film in which Cronenberg takes Marshall McLuhan's view of media as an extension of man to its logical, horrific conclusion ... paving the way for the cyberpunk movement that would blossom in the following decade. The film's depiction of the cathode ray tube as a cancerous tumor is a theme echoed in my next pick...
   


7. The King of Comedy (1983)
   This is Taxi Driver re-imagined as a comedy of manners and it's a terminal, spastic piece of cinema, cynical in the extreme and intent on making its audience squirm. I love it! It's a dark portrait of passive hostility and of a culture that has lost all sense of priorities and values, and it seems more prescient with every passing year. In Scorsese's eyes we are all Rupert Pupkins, and the motto "I'd rather be king for a night than schmuck for a lifetime" prophetically sums up the direction in which television culture would go over the following decades. Jerry Lewis is cast wonderfully against type as a self-serious, humorless grump; Sandra Bernhard is volatile and appropriately excruciating; and it's probably the last movie in which De Niro really made an effort. Now that Scorsese has presumably got the Oscar chasing out of his system, I'd love to see him make another black comedy like this.
   
   
8. Trading Places (1983)
   Another comedy of manners and an uproarious take on 1930s social message films, updated for the Gordon Gekko era. Every line of dialogue is priceless – "Where is your bitches?" – and the cast is remarkable. Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd are so good that I can still forgive them for everything they have done since the nineties began, and special kudos should also go to Don Ameche and Ralph Bellamy as the slimy Duke brothers, Denholm Elliott as the butler, and Paul Gleason as the villainous Mr. Beaks. And, no, I've not forgotten about Jamie Lee Curtis or her boobies; no boy in the eighties ever could! I also love the gritty, earthy look of the film and the local Philadelphia flavor that it captures. John Landis was a comedic genius in the 1970s and 1980s, making a handful of timeless classics; Trading Places is not only his finest work, it's also my pick for the best film comedy of all time.
   
   
9. Repo Man (1984)
   The cult film of the decade and a stunning debut for Alex Cox. A wild genre amalgam involving repo men, street punks, secret agents, Latin revolutionaries, Scientologists, ufologists, and a hippie mystic who are all on the hunt for a Chevy Malibu with dead aliens in the trunk that is being driven around East L.A. by a lobotomized scientist who invented the neutron bomb. It's an hilarious satire of Reagan era America and a cool time capsule of the 1980s West Coast punk scene. I feel a great affinity for Cox's representation of Los Angeles and I probably quote from this film more than any other (so I will refrain from doing so here). True, there is a strike against the film for kick starting Emilio Estevez's career ... but Cox did apologize for this later.
   
   
10. Wings of Desire (1987)
    One of the most sublimely beautiful films ever made. Bruno Ganz is wonderful as an angel who falls in love with a trapeze artist and longs to be human, but Peter Falk steals the movie as a film star who was once an angel himself. Just about perfect in every way, and a fascinating document of a Germany on the verge of unification, two years before the wall came tumbling down. Avoid the Nicolas Cage remake at all costs.
    

Also, here are ten performances of note (five male, five female). I'm sure I've forgotten somebody, so this is by no means a definitive list:

• Nicholas Worth, Don’t Answer the Phone! (1980)
• Ed Harris, Knightriders (1981)
• Michael Moriarty, Q (1982)
• Christopher Walken, The Dead Zone (1983)
• Harry Dean Stanton, Paris, Texas (1984)
  
  
• Lisa Eichhorn, Cutter's Way (1981)
• Jenny Agutter, An American Werewolf in London (1981)
• Nastassja Kinski, Paris, Texas (1984)
• Sigourney Weaver, Aliens (1986)
• Michelle Pfeiffer, Married to the Mob (1988)
  

Sam's Best of the 1990s

This was a tough assignment. The best of the 2000s list had over 2 years fewer films in it, and that made the 90s much harder to tackle. So many movies that I loved did not make the list.

Miller’s Crossing (1990)

From “Blood Simple” to “The Big Lebowski”, the Coen Brothers came out of the gates with 6 amazing films, and “Miller’s Crossing” is my favorite of them all. The plot is delightfully complicated, with no patience for an inattentive audience. The dialogue is brilliantly sharp and humorous, full of memorable and quotable dialogue: “You only got as big as I let you get and no bigger, and don’t forget it ever.” The ensemble acting is incredible. I believe that there are career-best performances from John Turturro, Jon Polito, Albert Finney, Gabriel Byrne, Marcia Gay Harden, and J.E. Freeman (yes, even better then his turn as Old Fred in “Tremors 4: The Legend Begins”). Steve Buscemi is also great, but my favorite of his performances is next on the list. The soundtrack is excellent, especially in the scoring by Coens’ favorite Carter Burwell. The cinematography by Barry Sonnenfeld is beautiful. He could have continued shooting and become one of the greats, but I guess “Wild Wild West” and “RV” couldn’t have directed themselves.

Reservoir Dogs (1992)

This is a brilliant first feature. My favorite aspect is how Tarantino took something as familiar as the heist picture, and made it feel so fresh and exciting by a bold structural choice: never showing the heist itself. Tarantino knows he can write good dialogue, and this movie contains some of his best. There are also amazing performances, which is bittersweet in that many of the actors have not been able to come close to duplicating this level of work since. Michael Madsen is a prime example, who is brilliant, charismatic, and terrifying. Harvey Keitel is also at his best, creating a character who remains likeable despite being so flawed in his decisions. Chris Penn, Lawrence Tierney, and Tim Roth are all strong. I think Steve Buscemi has the performance of a lifetime as Mr. Pink, the hyper, humorous, and witty weasel.

Shallow Grave (1994)

Back-to-back with another amazing debut feature. This partnership of Danny Boyle and Ewan McGregor demonstrated that they have the ability to bring out the best in each other. The premise is instantly relatable, with three friends interviewing for a new roommate. The audience is drawn in, and then must endure the torment of the disintegration of their friendships when the roommates betray each other after the new flatmate dies and leaves behind a suitcase full of cash. The tone is very dark and very funny. Boyle has masterful use of visuals and sounds to propel the story and keep the audience engaged.

Living in Oblivion (1995)

I really don’t know if this movie plays well with people who are not filmmakers. But for anyone who has been on a set and had to face the never-ending parade of events not going according to plan, of disasters striking, and of having to deal with all of this under immense pressure while being surrounded by people mostly falling within the range of eccentric to insane, then this movie hits very close to home. Although often painful, the film is always hysterical. Steve Buscemi, Katherine Keener, and Dermot Mulroney are great. James LeGros is a stand-out playing a thinly veiled version of Brad Pitt, who director Tom DiCillo struggled with in his previous film “Johnny Suede”.

Bound (1996)

The third debut feature on my list, and the second from a team of filmmaking brothers. Like “Reservoir Dogs”, this film also draws from the familiar genres of the heist and gangster pictures. And they similarly make a choice that makes the whole experience feel fresh, having both the protagonist and the femme fatale be women. Pre-“Matrix” franchise, the Wachowski brothers are already demonstrating their excellence with visual storytelling. The plot is tight, and the characters are distinct and charismatic from top to bottom.

Boogie Nights (1997)

This is an epic production by an ambitious auteur. The first shot is a bold and confident bit of filmmaking, with an impossibly dexterous camera in sync with tightly choreographed performances, all the while offering great acting and a beautiful look. The movie remains ambitious throughout, and the ensemble cast is united in a perfect storm of talent at the top of their game.

U-Turn (1997)

Film noir is all about style, with its bold camera positions and angles, its use of light and shadow, soundtrack, narrative structure, and over-the-top characters. Oliver Stone excels in these categories, and he created one of my favorite neo-noirs. All these excesses are playful and enjoyable, but more importantly feel justified in the increasingly unstable state of Sean Penn’s character. Penn is fantastic as the smart-talking protagonist who is born to lose. The ensemble cast is hilariously eccentric, with standout performances by Nick Nolte, Powers Booth, Claire Danes, Billy Bob Thornton, and a scene-stealing turn by Joaquin Phoenix as Toby N Tucker (a.k.a. TNT). Sean Penn gets stuck in the web of Superior, AZ, and spends the rest of the movie futilely struggling to escape.

Croupier (1998)

This is a smart and stylish suspense film. Clive Owen has a breakthrough turn, overflowing with charisma and cool. There are so few charismatic and cool British people out there, I assumed Clive was a lock for being the new James Bond after this performance (hehe, lets see who is reading this). The premise is of a barely-employed writer going undercover as a casino dealer in order to research his new lead character. As the film goes on, the line between the writer and the character vacillates and blurs. There are fun and satisfying twists to the end.

Out of Sight (1998)

Elmore Leonard provides gripping stories and vivid characters in his novels that have proven fertile for film adaptations, and this is my personal favorite. And this includes having to overcome being anchored with J. Lo in a leading role. But Soderbergh is playful with narrative structure and the camera, and the atmosphere he creates is subsequently fresh and enjoyable. As mentioned the writing is tight, with a quickly paced story and uniquely voiced characters. George Clooney is strong in the lead, and there are memorable performances from Steve Zahn, Albert Brooks, Luis Guizman, and even a charismatic Ving Rhames. The show-stealer is Don Cheadle, who is both hilarious and menacing. Case in point: “Well, the man don’t just have to die, Foley. I mean, he could accidentally hurt himself falling down on something real hard, you know? Like a shiv, or my dick.”

South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut (1999)

If you turn your nose up at this choice, then you simply haven’t seen it. This movie is brilliant. The satire is vicious and spot-on. The comedy is hysterical. But the real genius is in the musical parodies. Trey Parker is a parody savant, totally nailing the spirit of every song (regardless of which diverse musical genre it is from) while warping the familiar associations with it.

The Walker (2007)

Yesterday I saw The Walker, the new film written and directed by Paul Schrader which has opened in London this weekend. I've been a fan of Schrader's work ever since I saw American Gigolo for the second time, so naturally I was looking forward to The Walker. I was also tentatively intrigued by the fact that its synopsis made it sound like a retread of old Schrader territory - specifically, Gigolo itself.

The story centres around Carter Page III (Woody Harrelson), a 'walker' - a man who accompanies rich women to social functions. Being gay, he feels he never has to worry about becoming emotionally entangled with them, and so, when we meet him, he is sitting round a table playing cards, and exchanging louche gossip, with a handful of Washington D.C.'s finest 'ladies'. But when a woman with whom he is especially friendly, Lynn Lockner (Kristin Scott Thomas), discovers the slain body of her lover, Carter steps in to shield her from involvement, and thus becomes the prime suspect himself.

The character of Carter is, of course, redolent of upmarket LA rent boy Julian Kay, whom Richard Gere played so vividly in Gigolo, and the ensuing investigation into Carter's culpability, led by a sympathetic detective (Geff Francis) and an unsympathetic slimeball DA (William Hope), does indeed have echoes of Julian's involvement in the nasty death of one of his clients. For the first half hour of The Walker, I was wondering if Schrader didn't actually intend this new movie as an official remake of his earlier hit, so close are the narrative manoeuvres, the moral imperatives, and the preoccupations with the plastic glamour of the protagonists' worlds. But The Walker never feels like a rehash. One of the main reasons for this is the weirdly compelling performance by Harrelson, who, with a deliberately camp Southern drawl, is initially so clichéd a gay character that we figure there must be more to him than his claim that that 'I'm not naïve - I'm superficial'.

And, indeed, there is. For this superficial, ageing pinup puts his way of life on the line to shelter a dear friend from the prying eyes of the world's press, and the world's lawyers. There's also a potentially touching focus on Carter's more illustrious father and grandfather, who were giant businessmen in their day, and who have left Carter with a dizzy sense of inferiority that his homosexuality only reinforces. Harrelson's performance is abstract in the way it instantly nails a type and then lets the story reveal layers that we wouldn't have guessed at when we first met him. It's courageous, and perhaps foolish, to hang a whole movie on a performance like this, but I feel that The Walker survives it. And this is due largely to the film's style. Shot in 'Scope by cinematographer Chris Seager, The Walker has a clean, pin-sharp, brightly lit texture and a limpid mise en scène that can calm and absorb the more patient (or jaded) cinemagoer.

If there is one clear flaw, it's the rather sealed-off atmosphere: Washington's higher echelons seem to be represented by a handful of famous faces (a rather unconvincing Lauren Bacall, and the welcome, but underused, Lily Tomlin and Ned Beatty) and a few choice interiors. In this regard it brought to mind Clint Eastwood's Million Dollar Baby, another film which has little use (or energy) for visualizing the wider world. To add to this, we're never quite sure as to why Carter does risk so much; he claims not to be naïve but he's mature enough (in years and presumably in experience) to know the tenuous hold he actually has on the society he moves in. A fuller sense of what this society really would do to him if he betrayed it would have conveyed the hero's moral choices more robustly to the viewer.

And yet the film's tight focus adds to its dreamy, finely-tuned sense of itself, and demonstrates a craft both more easygoing and more exacting than that encountered in your standard cinematic scattershot aesthetics. Once again, Schrader as a writer-director deserves to be better-known than he is. The Walker, like its central character, is deceptively subtle and surprisingly satisfying. Already I'm looking forward to seeing it again.

Edward's Best of the 1990s

1. Porte aperte (1990)

Italian filmmakers have got a lot of mileage out of their country's Fascist past (e.g. Visconti with The Damned, Bertolucci with The Spider's Stratagem and The Conformist), and Gianni Amelio's Porte aperte is a very strong addition to this interrogation of history. A sacked government official (Ennio Fantastichini) murders two of his former colleagues and then rapes and kills his wife. He is promptly put on trial, he flaunts his guilt, and nobody seems to care if he lives or dies. But one judge (Gian Maria Volontè) does care. This is a movie about whether a man will receive a fair trial, and how every man, no matter how deranged, deserves one. Volontè, who will always have a place in my heart for his wicked (and sexually magnetic) performances in Fistful of Dollars and For a Few Dollars More, here gives a touching portrayal of a man with the soul of Atticus Finch, and brings a kindly, intelligent presence to this grave and compassionate movie.

2. Unforgiven (1992)

David Webb Peoples wrote the script in the '70s, but Clint Eastwood sat on it until he felt he was mature enough (in years, and as a filmmaker) to make it. When he did, it was roundly acclaimed. And indeed, it is a towering modern Western, earthy and convincing, in which Eastwood's ageing, reformed gunslinger picks up the pistols and rides out on one last mission, to earn money for his ailing farm and his two little'uns. The film critiques the myths on which American history is built, the bloodthirsty taste for violence, and the arbitrariness of justice. It falters towards the end, when the final showdown between Eastwood and the vicious sheriff (Gene Hackman) perhaps has its cake and eats it, but the sombre achievement of the film remains, and features Eastwood's best-ever work as actor and director.

3. Pulp Fiction (1994)

With Jackie Brown indisputably on the list, and with other films (The Sheltering Sky, Dick Tracy, Husbands and Wives) clamouring for that tenth slot, Pulp Fiction was vulnerable. But in the end I went with it, because, when it first came out, I thought its screenplay was remarkable, and I still do. The way Tarantino structures the multiple stories, allowing each situation its own highs and set-pieces but unifying them into a totally satisfying experience, was one of the great (and repeatable) pleasures of '90s cinema. Eminently quotable lines ('I'm gonna get medieval on your ass!') stem from the mouths of a shining cast, including terrific performances from Samuel L. Jackson, Bruce Willis, Ving Rhames and a quite magical John Travolta. My parents (whom I all but forced to go and see what everyone was talking about) may not agree with me, and I'm not sure I agree with myself, but it is some kind of a classic.

4. Three Colours: Red (1994)

I agree with everything Andrew said: this is the crowning achievement of one of the great auteurs of the movies. Kieslowski's death was a shock, not just because he was only 54, but because he was in his creative prime and we weren't going to get any more films from the man who had directed (and co-written, with Krzysztof Piesiewicz) the likes of the Dekalog, The Double Life of Véronique, and the Three Colours trilogy. Red is a totally intricate, yet sensual and beautiful tale of two people, a model and a retired judge, who come together by chance. Kieslowski's benevolent worldview was never more clearly articulated, the cinematography (by Piotr Sobocinski, who also died young) is essential to the way the film works (what a collaboration!), and the last ten minutes are just sublime - with possibly my favourite final shot in the movies.

5. Everyone Says I Love You (1996)

Woody Allen attempts a musical - and pulls it off! A delightfully carefree, dotty romantic comedy, Everyone Says I Love You gains considerable charm from having its cast members take it in turns to break into song (and, sometimes, to dance). It doesn't matter that many of the performers (such as Edward Norton, Natalie Portman, Tim Roth and Allen himself) can't sing especially well; what this film has is heart, and tons of it. Alan Alda and Goldie Hawn (both of whom are very musical, by the way) play the parents of a group of madcap teens looking for love, while Goldie's ex, played by Woody, tries to woo Julia Roberts by hook or by crook. With its emphasis on three glorious romantic hotspots (New York, Paris and Venice), its wonderful wit ('Steffi, bring me a copy of my will, and an eraser') and the superb number set in the funeral parlour (the highlight of a picture full of highlights), Everyone Says I Love You is a feel-good movie through and through.

6. Jackie Brown (1997)

An adaptation of Elmore Leonard's novel Rum Punch, 'written and directed for the screen' by Quentin Tarantino, Jackie Brown is the young attention-grabber's third full-length feature film. And, given the ludicrous over-indulgence of the more recent Kill Bill saga, this represents arguably Tarantino's most mature and controlled work to date. With its use of '70s forgotten favourites like Pam Grier and Robert Forster, it also acts as a dramatically engaging illustration of Tarantino's cinephilia and his conjurer's skill with casting. Grier plays the eponymous flight attendant, desperate to escape her working life drudgery and disentangle herself from the clutches of suave gangster Ordell (Samuel L. Jackson, excellent as ever), while Forster is the bail bondsman who finds himself falling for her in one of the cinema's great middle-aged romances. The film features a terrific, fresh use of classic disco tunes, the sly cinematic references are everywhere (such as the opening shot's homage to The Graduate), and, most impressively, Tarantino's pacing allows us to become fully absorbed in Jackie's desire for a more fulfilling life.

7. Life is Beautiful (1997)

There are people who would laugh me out of town for including this film on the list, because Life is Beautiful, when it was released, was a love-it-or-hate-it movie: a comedy set in the Holocaust. But its detractors seemed defiantly blind to one thing: this film doesn't seek to wring laughs out of the concentration-camp setting, it is a drama about the use of humour (and inventiveness) to sustain the human spirit in the face of a waking nightmare. Ultimately it is about the will to survive. The movie divides neatly into two halves: 1) Roberto Benigni's hyperactive waiter woos Nicoletta Braschi's tentative sweetheart; 2) the young lovers, with their little boy, are carted off to the death camps and Benigni sets about shielding his son from the reality of the situation by pretending it's all a game. Well, I'll stop there, because either you need no more convincing, or you've heard enough!

8. Ring (1998)

Based on the bestselling novel by Kôji Suzuki, Ring is a modern horror classic - and an absolute nerve-shredder. Nanako Matsushima plays Reiko, a journalist investigating the deaths of a group of teens who had all claimed to see a disturbing video and receive a doom-laden 'phone call. When she herself happens upon the eerie film footage, Reiko, with her young son and her ex-husband, has only seven days to solve the mystery. And what a mystery it is. Director Hideo Nakata's major coup is his straightforward, and thus entirely plausible, juxtaposition of contemporary Japanese life and ancient folklore. My first viewing of this movie, at the ICA in London in 2000, remains one of the most unforgettable times I've ever had in the cinema. Every promise was fulfilled, every setup was paid off, and as the film moved relentlessly towards its conclusion, my eyes were out of their sockets on stalks! And each subsequent viewing has only served to enrich my appreciation. A masterpiece.

9. The Blair Witch Project (1999)

I disliked this film the first time I saw it. The hype surrounding it had grown to absurd proportions and my expectations were dashed. But one thing stuck, and it's what gets this film onto my list: its use of its own low-budget origins to tell its story. Writer-directors Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez have delivered the ultimate 'found' documentary - so it's absolutely right that it looks and sounds scuzzy, that the camerawork is rough, and that the footage doesn't make complete sense. The world of the film exists outside the confines of the frame, and the performances by the three unknowns capture a particularly recognisable youthful brand of naïveté. I haven't got a clue what actually happens (are there ghosts in the woods? is the Blair witch running rampant?) but, despite not considering myself a particular fan of the genre, I can't stop myself from making this the second horror movie on my '90s list.

10. South Park: Bigger Longer & Uncut (1999)

'I farted once on the set of Blue Lagoon!' Message movies were never as entertaining as this! When the South Park kids start using bad language as a result of seeing the Canadian Terrance & Phillip movie, their outraged parents wage war on Canada. In the Internet era, with adults unaware of the technological know-how of their offspring, South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut acts as a reminder to the generations to communicate better with each other. All well and good. It just so happens that this is also a great big-screen spin-off from the popular TV series, a wonderfully inventive animated feature, and a terrific musical into the bargain, with song-and-dance routines worthy of the best of classical Hollywood, not to mention a generous strain of subversive wit. And just how do you get your kids not to swear? 'It's Easy, Mmm-kay!'


Six performances of note:

Gérard Depardieu in Cyrano de Bergerac
Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven
Robert Forster in Jackie Brown

Jodie Foster in The Silence of the Lambs
Judy Davis in Husbands and Wives
Julia Roberts in Notting Hill

Andrew's Best of the 1990s

1. Lessons of Darkness (1992)
   A fusion of documentary and science-fiction from Werner Herzog. Following the first Gulf War, Herzog went to Kuwait to shoot footage of the oil fires that had turned the region into an apocalyptic inferno. Lessons of Darkness frames the footage as though it is from the perspective of an alien visitor to Earth. The metaphor of being an alien presence in the Middle East obviously has a lot of political resonances, and the film provides a powerful, moving, and utterly unique view of the crises there. It features some of Herzog’s most extraordinary landscape photography and trumps his own Fata Morgana (1971) as a vision of colonial madness in the desert.
   
   
2. Reservoir Dogs (1992)
   Seeing this fresh, before Tarantino became Tarantino, was one of the most exhilarating experiences of the nineties for me. It's a lean, taut and focused film, featuring none of the bloated self-indulgence of Tarantino's later work.
   
   
3. The Player (1992)
   I love thrillers with an off-key quality to them, where mood and texture play as much of a role as plot. Altman was a master of this; and, in representing Griffin Mill's growing paranoia, The Player has this quality in spades. The ending is especially good, simultaneously upbeat and downbeat, sentimental and cynical, a Hollywood ending that's as unHollywood as they come.
   
   
4. The Strategy of the Snail (1993)
   This Colombian film is a delightful satire about poverty and solidarity. A group of neighbors are forced to pull together and use all of their wiles to save the house that they live in but do not legally own. It's a genuine crowd-pleaser and a potent political allegory with an absurdist touch.
   
   
5. Three Colors: Red (1994)
   In selecting Three Colors: Red, I'm really implying all three films of the trilogy. Krzysztof Kieslowski was the auteur director of the nineties and left us way too soon. This tale of fate, fraternity and responsibility was his crowning achievement and is a near flawless film. What a way to end a career!
   
   
6. Before Sunrise (1995)
   I was roughly the same age as the characters when this first came out, and it spoke to me. Before Sunset (2004), however, has changed my relationship to Before Sunrise, contextualizing it as a film about being in love in your early twenties. This context gives new layers of meaning and specificity to the characters’ yearnings, musings, and fumblings – presenting romance not as something “eternal”, but rather as something determined in large part by age. If another film appears in a few years, it will become the 7-Up series of Generation X relationships.
   
   
7. Lost Book Found (1996)
   Jem Cohen's meditation on New York and Walter Benjamin is a masterwork of experimental filmmaking and a fascinating updating of the "city symphony" tradition. It's impossibly hard to find – I've only seen it as part of a film class – but it seems likely that someone involved in American Beauty saw it: the plastic bag motif is lifted whole cloth from Lost Book Found.
   
   
8. Boogie Nights (1997)
   Boogie Nights is a film of such wisdom, confidence and cinematic flamboyance that it still boggles my mind that Paul Thomas Anderson was only 27 when he made it. I can’t think of another ensemble film where all of the characters are so richly written and performed. I love the film’s use of fluid long takes (perhaps emulating/mocking the use of static long takes in adult films). And I love how the sad, broken-down-carousel music score offsets the peppy disco tunes to reveal the heartbreak and anguish behind the freewheeling decadence. More than any other film, it captures my own memories of the feel of the late-1970s and early-1980s.
   
   
9. Jesus’ Son (1999)
   Sam will disagree with me, but I like this film much more than the book on which it was based. The book is great, but what I love most about the film is the wonderfully existential mood of Alison Maclean’s direction, and the terrific performances by all of the cast. Billy Crudup, as Fuckhead, has never been better; and Jack Black, Samantha Morton, Denis Leary and Holly Hunter are all at the tops of their games. Along with Boogie Nights, it’s another insightful look back on the 1970s.
   
   
10. Three Kings (1999)
    David O. Russell’s Gulf War action-satire is in the best tradition of 1970s Hollywood filmmaking: it’s complex, challenging, exciting, absurd, angry, funny, cynical, tragic, and bold. I can’t think of another Hollywood movie that has tackled the United States' involvement in the Middle East as well; the first ninety seconds of Three Kings alone covers more ground than the whole of Jarhead. It also has some of the most strikingly innovative cinematography I’ve ever seen.

Movie Greats

I just thought I'd say a little bit about Ingmar Bergman and Michelangelo Antonioni, both of whom have died this week. Yes, two of the world's greatest film directors have gone within a day of each other.

I was moved to hear of Bergman's death, although he did, of course, live to a fine age (89). I don't qualify as a huge fan, so far: I have only seen about half a dozen of his films - inc. Smiles of a Summer Night, Wild Strawberries, Through a Glass Darkly, Persona, Cries and Whispers and Fanny and Alexander - but I was impressed with all of them (especially the later ones). And I've been looking forward to seeing the likes of Shame, The Magic Flute, Face to Face and Autumn Sonata.

As well as some of his features, I greatly enjoyed The Making of Fanny and Alexander (which is included in Criterion's Fanny and Alexander 5-disc box set). This is a two-hour on-set documentary, filmed and compiled by Bergman himself, in which we get an insight into the man at work on the set of what he announced as his final theatrical feature. Instead of a standard narration, it generally shows footage of activities on the set intercut with title cards explaining things (or sometimes just giving quotes which can then be applied to what we're seeing). It is a very effective way of seeing how a director (and a film set) works. The intricacy with which he and cinematographer Sven Nykvist set up one shot at the bedside of Fanny and Alexander's dying father illustrates his mastery.

Antonioni was 94, and had been slowed somewhat in his output after suffering a stroke in the 1980s. I like Antonioni's films a lot. In fact, only a week ago I watched L'eclisse again and realised something I hadn't felt about it before, that its study of a woman looking for love in 'the city' is absorbing.

His most famous English language movie is probably Blowup, which helped define swinging London and managed to combine Antonioni's familiar preoccupations with the plot twists of a classic mystery. But who can forget L'eclisse, Zabriskie Point and The Passenger? (He did great endings.) Or L'avventura, with the woman who disappears? And then there are his fifties films, such as I vinti and Il grido, which explore their flawed characters' lives with tenderness and compassion. In all of his movies, he had a way of filming the action so as to elucidate the search for one's 'place' in the world. These are highly significant works and, along with Bergman's, will resonate for years to come.

To add to the pile-up, actor Michel Serrault has also passed away in the last few days. He played lots of fine roles in French cinema, such as Ugo Tognazzi's camp partner who drags up in an attempt to please in La Cage aux Folles, and M. Arnaud in Nelly et Monsieur Arnaud opposite Emmanuelle Béart in 1996.

Hopefully there won't be any more cinema deaths for a while!