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© Senses of Cinema |
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Jeffrey M. Anderson
(in no particular order)
Sherlock, Jr. (Buster Keaton, 1924) Jeffrey M. Anderson is the film critic for the San Francisco Examiner.
Adam Bingham
I've been meaning for some time now to force myself into producing a list of my top ten films of all time. It's been hell. Here goes:
1. Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) (the rest of the list is in no particular order)
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
The General (Buster Keaton/Clyde Bruckman, 1926)
Le Rayon vert (Eric Rohmer, 1986)
Earth (Alexander Dovzhenko, 1930)
The Story of the Last Chrysanthemums (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1939)
A City of Sadness (Hou Hsiao-hsien, 1989)
A Time to Love and a Time to Die (Douglas Sirk, 1958)
Le Samourai (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1967)
The Human Condition (Masaki Kobayashi, 1959–61) After berating myself for the above list's lack of Hawks, Herzog, Ophuls, Renoir, Bresson, Fassbinder, Welles, Nick Ray, Nic Roeg, Kiarostami, Kar-Wai, Carne and Resnais, I give honourable mention to the following: The Ballad of Narayama (Shohei Imamura, 1983); Days and Nights in the Forest (Satyajit Ray, 1969); Eternity and a Day (Theo Angelopoulos, 1998); Ordet (Carl Theodor Dreyer, 1954); The Last Flight (William Dieterle, 1931). Adam Bingham is currently working towards his Masters degree in Film Studies in Sheffield, England.
David Cairns
(not really in any particular order, barring #1)
1. He Who Gets Slapped (Victor Sjöström, 1924)
A Matter of Life and Death (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1946)
The General (Buster Keaton/Clyde Bruckman, 1926)
Playtime (Jacques Tati, 1967)
2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
La Fin du jour (Julien Duvivier, 1939)
The Three/Four Musketeers (Richard Lester, 1973/4)
Brazil (Terry Gilliam, 1985)
Out of the Past (Jacques Tourneur, 1947)
Le Notti di Cabiria (Federico Fellini, 1957) As they always say, I'll probably change my mind about half of my choices tomorrow... I'd like to include Whale, Leone, Bertolucci, Reed, Truffaut, Murnau... David Cairns is a writer-director (Cry for Bobo) and film lecturer based in Edinburgh, Scotland.
Neel Chaudhuri
(in preferential order)
1. In the Mood for Love (Wong Kar-wai, 2000) ...a few directors who are absent because I could not bear to choose 'one' film – Ozu; Douglas Sirk; Fellini; Billy Wilder. Other films that might well displace the above next time around – Pakeezah (Amrohi); Amarcord (Fellini); All That Jazz (Fosse), and La Passion de Jeanne D'Arc (Dreyer). Neel Chaudhuri is presently residing and working in Bangalore, India, and is perpetually contemplating making his masterpiece. Every year he swears never to contribute to another top ten list!
Matt Clisbee
(in preferential order)
1. Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) Aside from Riefenstahl's Triumph of the Will, I doubt any of my picks will surprise. Although I don't agree with the rhetoric of Riefenstahl's work (and apparently neither did she), the film is an invaluable, revolutionary work of art. For many of the same reasons we admire a film like Citizen Kane – its ingenious cinematography, engrossing narrative and so forth, a learned film enthusiast can appreciate this propaganda film for the very same reasons. Films that were a close call but simply failed to make the list include Bogdanovich's The Last Picture Show; Coppola's The Conversation; Egoyan's The Sweet Hereafter; Demme's Silence of the Lambs; Rafelson's Five Easy Pieces; Fellini's 8½; Wilder's Double Indemnity; Allen's Hannah And Her Sisters; Bergman's Persona; Truffant's La Mariée était en noir, and Huston's The Maltese Falcon. Matt Clisbee is visiting lecturer of Communication Studies throughout the Greater San Francisco region. For the past two years, Matt has been a columnist for the Cambridge Movie News, an independent film periodical out of Boston, MA.
Doug Cummings
(the ranking beyond the top three is somewhat arbitrary and always evolving)
1. Ordet (Carl Dreyer, 1954) I've restricted myself to one film per director, which creates an odd mix but keeps the list from being overrun by Dreyer, Bresson and Tarkovsky. My single favourite Kieslowski may actually be Blue, but The Decalogue allows for ten films. Doug Cummings is a graphic artist in Los Angeles. He received a BA in Media Arts from the University of Arizona, moderates www.filmjourney.org, and is a co-founder of mastersofcinema.org and www.robert-bresson.com.
Rick Curnutte
(revised list, in preferential order)
1. La Passion de Jeanne D'Arc (Carl Dreyer, 1928) See also Rick's previous lists: Feb–Mar 2001 Sept–Oct 2001 Rick Curnutte is a film critic and the editor of the online film magazine, The Film Journal.
Inge Fossen
(in no particular order)
Raging Bull (Martin Scorsese, 1980) Lists like this are inevitably unfair, but when movie buffs play children's games, the outcome is always unpredictable. Special mention goes to: Sunset Boulevard (Billy Wilder, 1950); Fando and Lis (Alejandro Jodorowsky, 1967); Badlands (Terrence Malick, 1973); Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958), and Kiss Me Deadly (Robert Aldrich, 1955). See also Inge's revised list: Jan–Mar 2005 Inge Fossen is a 25 year old student from Norway, currently preparing to start working on Master's Degree in film history.
Scott Kelly
(in preferential order – eligibility limited to pre-1994 sound films)
1. Gone with the Wind (Victor Fleming, 1939) Films that blew me away on first viewing that still get the blood boiling – honourable mention to: Chinatown; Les Enfants du Paradis; La Grande Illusion; Do the Right Thing; On the Waterfront; To Kill a Mockingbird; The Cranes are Flying; Shadow of a Doubt; Woman of the Dunes. Scott Kelly is a film enthusiast and lawyer who lives and works in Toronto, Canada.
Mike Kitchell
(in no particular order, with the exception of #1, which consistently remains my absolute favourite)
1. Institute Benjamenta (Brothers Quay, 1995) Honourable mentions to Nashville (Altman, 1975); Alphaville (Godard, 1965); Gummo (Harmony Korine, 1997); The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser (Werner Herzog, 1974), and The American Soldier (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1970). I'm sure this list will be different next week, but as of right now these movies peak my best interests. See also Mike's revised lists: Jan–Mar 2005 Apr–June 2007 Mike Kitchell is a highschool student from Bloomington, Illinois, who sacrifices a social life for movies.
Dorian Knight
(in no particular order)
Martha (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1974) These films are all stark, uncompromising visions. For most the beauty lies only in the hint of hope that remains at the conclusion of somewhat bleak visions. Dorian Knight is a film actor and is from Wellington, N.Z. – but on the move soon...
Josh Krauter
(in alphabetical order)
California Split (Robert Altman, 1974)
Fear Eats the Soul (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1973)
High Hopes (Mike Leigh, 1988)
Ladri di Biciclette (Vittorio de Sica, 1948)
Love Streams (John Cassavetes, 1984)
Mikey and Nicky (Elaine May, 1976)
The Night of the Hunter (Charles Laughton, 1955)
Rebel Without a Cause (Nicholas Ray, 1955)
Scenes from a Marriage (Ingmar Bergman, 1973)
Stroszek (Werner Herzog, 1977) These ten films throb and hum with the shambling, awkward rhythms of real life colliding with fantasy and performance. Here are five more that nearly made it: Cockfighter (Monte Hellman, 1974), The Big Sleep (Howard Hawks, 1946), On the Bowery (Lionel Rogosin, 1957), Stranger Than Paradise (Jim Jarmusch, 1984) and Wanda (Barbara Loden, 1971). I also have a feeling that Luis Buñuel and Robert Bresson will end up on the list someday. See also Josh's revised list: Jan–Mar 2005 Josh Krauter is an unpublished writer who loves film. He lives in Austin, Texas.
Frederick Linch
Ten, No More, No Less
(in no particular order)
The Wild Bunch (Sam Peckinpah, 1969)
Deconstructing Harry (Woody Allen, 1997)
La Dolce Vita (Federico Fellini, 1960)
The Big Lebowski (Joel Coen, 1998)
The Suspended Step of the Stork (Theo Angelopoulos, 1991)
Steel Helmet (Samuel Fuller, 1951)
The Hole (Tsai Ming-liang, 1998)
Reservoir Dogs (Quentin Tarantino, 1992)
Smoke (Wayne Wang, 1995)
Who's Singing Over There? (Slobodan Sijan, 1980) Frederick Linch is a 62 year old business owner in Phoenix, AZ, who spends his non-business time programming Central and Eastern European films for 4 film festivals; lecturing on film 5 to 6 times a month for the last 13 years; creating and owning the Cinematheque de Langlois, Kino Eye and Tiny Downtown Film Festival series, and assembling a library of 5000 films, which he views on his 11-foot home entertainment screen. He is also the former chairperson of the board of the Palm Springs International Film Festival.
Paolo B. Maligaya
Here are my picks so far for the ten best films ever. Let's see which ones will be out in a year's time.
(in preferential order)
1. La Strada (Federico Fellini, 1954) Apart from the ten above, please let me mention 5 movies from the Philippines which I truly feel deserve worldwide recognition, and which should be seen by everyone who is into film: Biyaya ng Lupa (Blessings of the Land, Manuel Silos, 1959); Maynila: Sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag (Manila in the Claws of Light, Lino Brocka, 1975); Manila By Night/City After Dark (Ishmael Bernal, 1980); Himala (Miracle, Ishmael Bernal, 1982); Itim (Black/The Rites of May, Mike de Leon, 1976). Paolo B. Maligaya is a 27 year old film fanatic from Manila, Philippines. Eight years ago he decided he would like to direct films, and has attended several workshops on film. Right now, he's watching all the good (and bad) films he can get his hands on, before starting his assault on the film world (that is, if he can get his butt off the couch).
Miguel Marías
I'm afraid you forcefully guide people to obvious choices, instead of allowing mention of one hundred or more films, so that what one really loves, in spite of himself, prestige, historians, political correctness and other hindrances, would surface. So I'm mentioning for each of my favourite directors one of the three I prefer, wherever possible (I'd lie if I told you Under Capricorn is for me the best of Hitchcock's movies, but not if I championed Land of the Pharaohs or Hatari! as Hawks' greatest).
(in an approximate order of preference)
1. The Wings of Eagles (John Ford, 1957) Shame and frustration: not to mention Godard, Hawks, Vigo, Lubitsch, Ophuls, Borzage? And there you'd cut me, not allowing me to regret Nicholas Ray, Chaplin, Keaton, Griffith, Sternberg, Stroheim, Buñuel, Sirk, Jacques Tourneur, Ozu, Naruse, Tanako Kinuyo, Bresson, Guitry, Pagnol, Lumière, Grémillon, Feuillade, Donskoi, Barnet, Vertov, Rouch, Satyajit Ray, Kurosawa, Walsh, Dwan, Henry King, Capra, Tati, Minnelli, Anthony Mann or Mankiewicz. Nor Singin' in the Rain! Or Strangers When We Meet or These Thousand Hills. Or Listen to Britain or Black Narcissus. Or Cielo negro by the Spaniard Mur Oti or Armiño negro by the Argentinian Carlos Hugo Christensen. Such limited choices are no true choices. I don't see much sense in reminding people they really should see Seventh Heaven or Tol'able David (and not even that, for that matter, is possible), when they'd rather run searching for Smilin' Through or Beloved Infidel, or try to see something by the old Chinese master Bai Chen. Miguel Marías is 55, a film critic since 1966, a former director of the Spanish Film Archive and the author of books on Manuel Mur Oti and Leo McCarey.
Scott McGee
(in no particular order)
Steamboat Bill, Jr. (Buster Keaton & Charles Reisner, 1928) Honourable mentions: the usual suspects for Universal's great horror cycle of the 1930s; the best from Hollywood's 1970s Renaissance; The Thin Man (W.S. Van Dyke, 1934); L.A. Confidential (Curtis Hanson, 1997); The Last of the Mohicans (Michael Mann, 1992); The Thing (John Carpenter, 1982), and Out of the Past (Jacques Tourneur, 1947). My omissions are blasphemous, so the less said, the better. Scott McGee is a writer/producer with the Turner Classic Movies cable channel in the US, as well as a graduate of the Emory University Film Studies Program.
Phil Mole
(in preferential order)
1. Au Hasard, Balthazar (Robert Bresson, 1966) Very special runners-up include Meet Me in St. Louis (Vincente Minnelli, 1944); La Règle du jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939); Shock Corridor (Sam Fuller, 1963); City Lights (Charles Chaplin, 1931), and The Night of the Hunter (Charles Laughton, 1955). I regret the absence of many other personal favourites by Carl Dreyer, Jean-Luc Godard, Alain Resnais, Howard Hawks, Ernst Lubitsch, Fritz Lang, Yasujiro Ozu, Ingmar Bergman, Anthony Mann, Otto Preminger, Nicholas Ray, Preston Sturges, Jacques Rivette, Frederick Wiseman, Errol Morris and Andrei Tarkovsky. Phil Mole is a free-lance writer and ardent film fan living in Chicago who often contributes to Skeptic and Skeptical Inquirer, and who buys more DVDs than he can afford.
Victor J. Morton
(in preferential order)
1. A Clockwork Orange (Stanley Kubrick, 1971) Yeah, this is a fairly canonical list and it pains me to have nothing by Buñuel, Dreyer, Lubitsch, Sturges, Keaton, Rohmer, Von Trier and Haneke. But these are the films that I have never gotten tired of through at least a half-dozen or more viewings (23 in the case of Ambersons). Victor J. Morton has a personal site called Rightwing film geek, which presents film criticism from a conservative perspective. He's a Washington-area cinephile and has had some film writings published in The Washington Times, National Review and 24fps.
Charles Oakley
Making a Top Ten list was a challenge I couldn't ignore.
(in no particular order)
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) In staying with a genre-dominated list, there are five movies that could (and should) be in this top ten list. The alternates are: 1. Perfect Blue (Satoshi Kon, 1997); 2. Battle Royale (Kinji Fukasaku, 2000); 3. La Femme Nikita (Luc Besson, 1990); 4. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Tobe Hooper, 1974), and 5. Pulp Fiction (Quentin Tarantino, 1994). Charles Oakley lives and works in Bristol, Connecticut. He is a cinephile and writer feverishly working on screenplay after screenplay. He wonders if there's anything else worth doing.
Girish Shambu
(in no particular order)
The Young Girls of Rochefort (Jacques Demy, 1967) Five most frequently-watched films: The Heart of the World (Guy Maddin, 2000); Le Samourai (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1967); Footlight Parade (Lloyd Bacon, 1933); Sherlock, Jr. (Buster Keaton, 1924), and Raising Cain (Brian De Palma, 1992). Girish Shambu teaches at Canisius College in Buffalo, New York, and writes about cinema.
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TALLY at November–December 2003,
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1. 2. 3. 4. 6. 9. 10. |
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941) Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, 1976) La Règle du jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939) Sunrise (F.W. Murnau, 1927) Au Hasard, Balthazar (Robert Bresson, 1966) Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) The Thin Red Line (Terrence Malick, 1998) The Searchers (John Ford, 1956) |
79 47 42 30 30 28 28 28 27 26 |
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By director: |
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1. 2. 4. 5. 6. 8. 9. |
Alfred Hitchcock Jean-Luc Godard Stanley Kubrick Orson Welles Robert Bresson Andrei Tarkovsky Martin Scorsese Ingmar Bergman Carl Dreyer Akira Kurosawa |
143 96 96 95 81 76 76 70 62 62 |
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Mubarak Ali
(in preferential order)
1. Dekalog (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1988) Five that could be there tomorrow: 2001: A Space Odyssey (Kubrick, 1968), 8½ (Fellini, 1963), The Three Colours Trilogy (Kieslowski, 1993–4), Un Condamné à Mort s'est Echappé (Bresson, 1956), Celine et Julie Vont en Bateau (Rivette, 1974). The masterworks of Polanski, Lynch, Kar-Wai, Hitchcock, Herzog, Buñuel, Egoyan and Tati have been sadly left off for another list, for another day. See also Mubarak's revised list: Jan–Mar 2005 Mubarak Ali is a final year Medical Laboratory Science student based in Auckland, New Zealand, who watches movies whenever he can, and writes for the newly launched local film journal, Lumiere.
Ashley Allinson
There is no such thing as order in an exercise of such magnitude.
Performance (Donald Cammell & Nicolas Roeg, 1970) See also Ashley's revised list: Jan–Mar 2005 Ashley Allinson is a teacher and writer from Toronto, Ontario.
Michael J. Anderson
(in chronological order)
Lady Windermere's Fan (Ernst Lubitsch, 1925) Were this the Sight & Sound poll, I would have found a way to include Vertigo as well – if there has to be a greatest film of all time, I would prefer Hitchcock's to 'Kane (or maybe it is that I would just prefer a change). Michael (24) currently resides in the Minneapolis, Minnesota area. He will be attending the cinema studies program at NYU in the fall, but is somewhat worried that Harmony Korine and Kevin Smith will pass for masters with many of his fellow students.
Timothy Boniface
(in alphabetical order)
Coup de Torchon (Bertrand Tavernier, 1981) I would feel far too guilty to omit the following and can not fairly consider the above any better than these below, but according to the rules and with great difficulty I must: Last Tango in Paris (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1972), Marat/Sade (Peter Brook, 1966), The Night of the Hunter (Charles Laughton, 1955), Salò (Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1975), and Yi yi (Edward Yang, 2000). All these films can stop me in my tracks. For some (The Killing, The Trial) it may be through sheer brillance of execution and humor (albeit often dark), while with others (Ordet, A Woman Under the Influence), it's the depth and sincerity and beauty which overwhelm me; still others I find undeniably vital (Coup de Torchon, Salò). Timothy Boniface is a simple cinephile lost/hiding (?) in Baltimore, USA. Currently he finds himself to be a graphic artist and illustrator, though that may certainly change.
Pilar Castaneda
(in no particular order)
Le Salaire de la peur (Henri-Georges Clouzot, 1953) Pilar Castaneda lives in Brussels and was born in Tangier, 54 years ago. Ever since sharing a seat with her brother while watching Jane Russell and Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (Hawks, 1953), she's gone to the movies as much as she's been able to (never more than five times a week).
Andrew Collins
(in no particular order)
Vivre sa vie (Jean-Luc Godard, 1962)
Dr. Strangelove (Stanley Kubrick, 1963) I didn't want to put two works by the same director, considering it's only a top ten. However, I could not help it with Jean-Luc "Cinema" Godard; how could I leave out Bande à part? Also, although I feel the work of R.W. Fassbinder rivals any of the filmmaker's here, I did not feel any single one of his films was strong enough (his entire oeuvre, though, is one of the most incredible, idiosyncratic ever, check it out!). This last statement can also apply to Robert Altman, Jacques Rivette (though it did break my heart leaving La Belle Noiseuse out), Powell-Pressburger and many others. Andrew Collins is a film school dropout and a literature major living in Philadelphia, PA, currently taking it easy before launching his furious and swift attack upon the world of Cinema. Or dying a complete unknown. Whichever comes first.
William Domanski
(in preferential order)
1. Wagon Master (John Ford, 1950) Honorable mentions: Mikey & Nicky (Elaine May, 1976), Ulzana's Raid (Robert Aldrich, 1972), Tom Horn (William Wiard, 1980), Rolling Thunder (John Flynn, 1977) and Targets (Peter Bogdanovich, 1968) William Domanski is 40 years old and lives in rural Virginia. At the age of 9 he saw a drive-in double feature of The French Connection and Vanishing Point and has never recovered.
Andrés S. Glavina
Ten is a very small number. And it's foolish to try to order them.
(in chronological order)
Battleship Potemkin (Sergei Eisenstein, 1925)
Andrés S. Glavina is simply a movie lover from South America.
Chris Gregory
(in no particular order)
Pee Wee's Big Adventure (Tim Burton, 1985) I don't mean for this list to directly reflect on my personal taste in film. My choices have not been dictated by a need for public vindication, or the recognition of the superiority of my choices over anyone else's, or by the kudos attached to my familiarity with films that are either obscure or are hard to find. This is a list of films that I would insist that people should see if they hadn't already seen them before. And I'd expect that they would enjoy watching them. They're films that I love and would want to share with anybody. I've avoided anything particularly arty or difficult or extreme (well...excepting Videodrome). Watching these films should make anyone a better human being, and at least give them a few chuckles. Chris Gregory is a Melbourne-based writer.
Engin Gülez
(in no particular order)
Room at the Top (Jack Clayton, 1959) Engin Gülez is a 22-year old would-be poet and filmmaker living in Ankara, Turkey.
Jake Haisley
I list the following films as examples of superb direction through the
development of a unique and pervasive style, the use of judgment and
restraint in approaching emotional, psychological and philosophical
complexities, and the willingness to confront the universal issues of man as
an individual and a motivating social entity.
The faith and spiritual identity of the One:
The ironic modern fate and existence of the One:
Modern war and the dehumanisation of the One:
The transcendental power of love within the One:
Ego, desire, will and the quest for self-worth of the One:
The pursuit of purpose and legacy in the One:
Faith and the self-alienation of the One:
Self-image and the social alienation of the One:
The idolisation and absolute empowerment of the One:
Modern war and the dehumanisation of the Many: Also incredibly deserving of mention are the films of Sergei Parajanov (Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors, Color of Pomegranates), Werner Herzog (Fitzcarraldo, Stroszek), Luis Buñuel (The Exterminating Angel, Belle de Jour), Sergio Leone (Once Upon a Time in the West, Once Upon a Time in America) and Ingmar Bergman (Wild Strawberries, Fanny and Alexander). Jake is an 18 year old film lover with aspirations to write about film. He lives in the United States.
Mark R. Johnson
(in chronological order)
Meshes of the Afternoon (Maya Deren, 1943) Cinema is a zone between economics and emotion. The industrial and economic forces that allowed us to see our favourite films are the same forces that prevented us from seeing others we may have loved even more. See also Mark's revised list: Jan–Mar 2005 Mark R. Johnson, 40, is a U.S.-born screenwriter, director and journalist who currently lives in Brussels, Belgium.
Myles Jones
(in chronological order)
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) Myles Jones is an MRC-sponsored post-doctoral research associate in neuroscience (not much to do with film!) in the Department of Psychology, University of Sheffield, U.K.
Jonathan Kung
(in no particular order)
Barry Lyndon (Stanley Kubrick, 1975)
Dekalog (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1988)
To Have and Have Not (Howard Hawks, 1944)
In the Bedroom (Todd Field, 2001)
Before Sunrise (Richard Linklater, 1995)
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
Schindler's List (Steven Spielberg, 1993)
Cet obscur objet du désir (Luis Buñuel, 1977)
It's a Wonderful Life (Frank Capra, 1946)
La Règle du jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939) Special mention to the Canadian experimental short film Our Marilyn (Brenda Longfellow, 1987). Could very well be the best short film I've ever seen, as well as being one of the few experimental films I haven't found to be horribly overblown and pretentious. Jonathan Kung is yet another film student, he goes to Carleton University in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada.
Maximilian Le Cain
(revised list, in preferential order)
1. Death in Venice (Luchino Visconti, 1971) See also Max's previous lists: Nov 2000 June 2001 Maximilian Le Cain is a filmmaker and cinephile living in Cork City, Ireland.
Philip Matthews
(in no particular order)
Dead Man (Jim Jarmusch, 1995) Philip Matthews is a film reviewer with the New Zealand Listener magazine. He lives in Auckland.
Keith Uhlich
(revised list, in preferential order)
1. Solaris (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1972)
2. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
3. Peeping Tom (Michael Powell, 1960)
4. Playtime (Jacques Tati, 1967)
5. The Young Girls of Rochefort (Jacques Demy, 1967)
6. Safe (Todd Haynes, 1995)
7. The Tiger of Bengal/The Indian Tomb (Fritz Lang, 1959)
8. The Killing of a Chinese Bookie (John Cassavetes, 1976)
9. Hot Blood (Nicholas Ray, 1956)
10. The Thing With Two Heads (Lee Frost, 1972) An alternate five: The Bitter Tea of General Yen (Frank Capra, 1933), Christmas Holiday (Robert Siodmak, 1944), 7 Women (John Ford, 1966), Return to Oz (Walter Murch, 1985), The Mad Songs of Fernanda Hussein (John Gianvito, 2001) And just to defy Senses' only five-extra rule: Femme Fatale (Brian De Palma, 2002). See also Keith's previous list: Feb–Mar 2001 Keith Uhlich is a writer living in Brooklyn, NY. You can read him online at www.culturedose.net. His e-mail is keith@culturedose.net.
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TALLY at September–October 2003,
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By film: |
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1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 7. 8. 9. 10. |
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941) Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, 1976) Sunrise (F.W. Murnau, 1927) La Règle du jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939) The Thin Red Line (Terrence Malick, 1998) Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) The Searchers (John Ford, 1956) Seven Samurai (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) Au Hasard, Balthazar (Robert Bresson, 1966) |
71 45 39 30 28 28 27 26 25 24 24 |
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By director: |
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1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. |
Alfred Hitchcock Jean-Luc Godard Stanley Kubrick Orson Welles Robert Bresson Andrei Tarkovsky Martin Scorsese Ingmar Bergman Carl Dreyer Akira Kurosawa |
133 95 89 88 77 75 73 65 59 58 |
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Peg Aloi
(in order, generally...)
1. Picnic at Hanging Rock (Peter Weir, 1975) Honorable mention: Winged Migration (Jacques Perrin, 2001); The Seventh Seal (Bergman); Blow-Up (Antonioni); Portrait of a Lady (Campion); Interiors (Allen); The Player (Altman); Chinatown (Polanski); A Clockwork Orange (Kubrick). I tend to enjoy films which are either purely visual or purely about characters and thus performance. Some of these films combine both: like the Greenaway film, so rich with color and sensuality and so lushly photographed, and with amazing portrayals from Helen Mirren and Michael Gambon. I like films which are not obvious in their storytelling, leaving some mystery still unravelled at the end. I also seem to have a preference for darker tales, but, that said, I also am a sucker for romance. Peg Aloi is a freelance film critic (mostly for The Boston Phoenix) and a lecturer in the Department of Visual and Media Arts at Emerson College, where she teach courses on film history and theory, creative writing, and assorted topics including a seminar on Australian cinema.
Ricardo Luis Alvarez
(in alphabetical order)
Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979) Special Mentions go to: L'Avventura (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1960) and McCabe & Mrs. Miller (Robert Altman, 1971). Ricardo Luis Alvarez, 20, lives in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, where he is majoring in Economics (soon Business). In his spare time he likes to watch movies and make short films. At his homepage, Images & Sounds, he writes comments on a film every week (Film Of The Week).
David Archer
(in chronological order)
The Wizard of Oz (Victor Fleming, 1939) And a mention for Alfred Hitchcock and Billy Wilder, two of the most prolific and entertaining of filmmakers. David Archer is a 32 year-old Media student from Melbourne.
baaab
Here goes, although I would refer to this as the "list of the day," with masterpieces a wee more underseen than most, or stuff I've seen pretty recently and am still high on, or movies by directors I would list among my favourites... but I mean all these movies are really great, basically:
(in preferential order)
1. Puce Moment (Kenneth Anger, 1949) baaab is a high school student/gradually progressing film buff living in Portland, OR. He occasionally/obsessively writes on his site.
Mike Bartlett
(in no particular order)
Viaggio in Italia (Roberto Rossellini, 1953) Ten great films by ten filmmakers who continue to act as a benchmark for others in my mind. But if I'm allowed a stash of five more, then let's hear it for: The Wild Bunch (Sam Peckinpah, 1969), I Walked With a Zombie (Jacques Tourneur, 1943), Le Mépris (Godard, 1963), The Wicker Man (Robin Hardy, 1973) and a great late night double bill: John Carpenter's The Fog (1980) and The Thing (1982). See also Mike's revised list: Jan–Mar 2005 Mike Bartlett subtitles films and TV programmes for the deaf and hard of hearing in the UK. Oh, and he loves movies!
Kian Bergstrom
(in purely chronological order)
The Man With a Movie Camera (Dziga Vertov, 1928) Lists like this are always exercises in frustration, and this is no exception. Mercifully having been allowed five alternates, I'll also list: By the Law (Lev Kuleshov, 1926), The Crowd (King Vidor, 1928), Aguirre: The Wrath of God (Werner Herzog, 1972), and Days of Heaven (Terrence Malick, 1978). I have also followed the unofficial practice here of limiting myself to one film per director, and have deliberately excluded any films made after 1990. I was sorely tempted at first to submit a deliberately perverse list consisting only of Kubrick's ten major features. Similarly, Tarkovsky's seven features could form the backbone of another possible list, with the addition of, say, Battleship Potemkin, Dog Star Man, and Pulp Fiction. These two hypothetical lists are both, for me, entirely acceptable, and yet also entirely beside the point. This is all to say that any "ten best" must encompass not just preference and aesthetic judgment, but also a certain degree of history – not in that those included should have been historically of note, though that is important, but rather that the list should indicate in its totality an awareness of and inclusiveness towards the history of the art. Ten films could never do that, but the attempt to (impossibly) serve all these different masters is part of the teeth-gritting pleasure making this list has brought me. Kian Bergstrom is a graduate student at the University of Chicago.
Jaime N. Christley
(revised list, in chronological order)
Make Way for Tomorrow (Leo McCarey, 1937) Anyone who's lived the life of a cinephile long enough knows that their personal top ten list can include anywhere from twenty to a hundred or more titles. Combine this notion with the one that the Top Ten phenomenon represents a mixture of deeply personal movie love and outright polemics, and stands at such a distance from the inscrutable monolith of film history as to be excused from omitting all major periods, directors, and countries, then, respectfully, you have my humble submission. Ten titles that have knocked me for a loop in the last eighteen or so months, all of them worthy of the ultimate canon, whatever that is. For trivia's sake, my "real" favourite films are: Playtime (Jacques Tati, 1967); Sans soleil (Chris Marker, 1982); Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958); Floating Clouds (Mikio Naruse, 1955); and The Third Man (Carol Reed, 1949). See also Jaime's previous list: Mar 2002 Jaime N. Christley is a New York-based critic and cinephile.
Janis El-Bira
(in preferential order)
Andrei Rublev (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1966) Runners-up: Ordet (Dreyer, 1954), Shoah (Lanzmann, 1985), L'Argent (Bresson, 1983), Dekalog (Kieslowski, 1988), Au Hasard, Balthazar (Bresson, 1966), McCabe & Mrs. Miller (Altman, 1971), Close-Up (Kiarostami, 1989). Too bad, I had to omit all the great ones by Nicholas Ray, Max Ophüls, Jacques Rivette, Akira Kurosawa, Jean-Luc Godard, Alain Resnais, Hou Hsiao-hsien, Michelangelo Antonioni, Chris Marker, Luchino Visconti, Béla Tarr, and Howard Hawks – amongst many others. Well, maybe next time... Janis El-Bira is a 17-year-old cinephile living in Germany. He's one of the critics at online film magazine MovieMaze.de.
Adam Hart
(in no particular order)
Playtime (Jacques Tati, 1967) It breaks my heart not to include anything by Cronenberg, Denis or Almodovar, and it actually seems strange to me that on this particular day I chose not to include the Italians – Fellini's 8½ and Antonioni's L'Avventura – on the list. For me, a list like this is constantly changing according to... I don't know, what side of the bed I wake up on I suppose. Adam Hart is a freelance writer and filmmaker based in Seattle, WA. He is the assistant film programmer at Consolidated Works, the Pacific Northwest's only multi-disciplinary contemporary arts center, and has written film criticism for such publications as indieWIRE, Res, The Stranger, 24framespersecond and the newly-launched ReallyGoodFilms.com.
Marios Karidis
(in hmm... preferential order)
1. Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, 1976) These are the films I keep watchin' all the time, films I find everytime more 'n more penetrating. These honestly are my favourite films, and not the best films ever made in my opinion at all. Better films than my favourites have surely been made. This list changes at times, but the No. 1 masterpiece never changes, and it never will (probably). It could also be completed with almost ANY of the films of Scorsese, Kubrick, Tarantino, Hitchcock, Coens etc. Films that ought to be in my top ten but are in my top 20 or whatever, include: Raging Bull (Scorsese, 1980), The Godfather Parts I & II (Coppola, 1972–1974), Easy Rider (Hopper, 1969), The Shining (Kubrick, 1980) and Scarecrow (Schatzberg, 1973) among many others. I tried really hard to keep within the site's rules, so I didn't mention other films, older than these and very important to me, so I apologise to my self for that. See also Marios' revised list: Jul–Sept 2007 Marios Karidis is a Greek film buff, obsessed with Scorsese 'n Kubrick and trying to take his degree in Statistics, some day!
Tim Lightell
10. All that Jazz (Bob Fosse, 1979)
9. Aguirre: The Wrath of God (Werner Herzog, 1972) 8. Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960) 7. Il Conformista (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1969) 6. Crimes and Misdemeanors (Woody Allen, 1989) 5. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) 4. Raging Bull (Martin Scorsese, 1980) 3. Barry Lyndon (Stanley Kubrick, 1975) 2. Nashville (Robert Altman, 1975) 1. Goodfellas (Martin Scorsese, 1990) Breaking the Waves, The Idiots and Dancer in the Dark (Von Trier, 1996, 1998 and 2000); JFK and Nixon (Stone, 1991 and 1995); Cabaret (Fosse, 1972), and Husbands and Wives and Hannah and Her Sisters (Allen, 1992 and 1986) deserve mention because of their heavy influence on my own movies. Tim Lightell has a BFA in Film Production from NYU and an MFA in Screenwriting from Chapman University. His first experimental digital feature, The Lauren Epic, is currently playing in festivals around the country. He will write & direct for food.
Alan Pavelin
Here is my (slightly) revised list, in chronological order.
La Passion de Jeanne D'Arc (Carl Dreyer, 1928)
The Story of the Last Chrysanthemums (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1939)
Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953)
Viaggio in Italia (Roberto Rossellini, 1953)
Sanshô dayû (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1954)
Gertrud (Carl Dreyer, 1964)
Au Hasard, Balthazar (Robert Bresson, 1966)
Stalker (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979)
The Sacrifice (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1986)
Yi yi: A One and a Two (Edward Yang, 2000) Five more that almost made it: Journal d'un curé de campagne (Bresson), Ikiru (Kurosawa), Vertigo (Hitchcock), A City of Sadness (Hou), Werckmeister Harmonies (Tarr). Yang and Tarr prove that cinema is alive and well in the 21st century! See also Alan's previous lists: Apr 2000 Nov 2000 June 2001 Alan Pavelin has been interested in international cinema since the 1960s, and has been writing about it since the 1980s. He has a particular interest in the portrayal of religious themes in film.
Nicholas Searle
(in no particular order)
The Last Days of Chez Nous (Gillian Armstrong, wr. Helen Garner, 1991)
The Sting (George Roy Hill, wr. David S. Ward, 1973)
Toy Story 2 (Ash Brannon, John Lasseter & Lee Unkrich, wr. many more, 1999)
My Dinner with André (Louis Malle, wr. Andre Gregory & Wallace Shawn, 1981)
Naked Lunch (dir. & wr. David Cronenberg, 1991)
Crumb (Terry Zwigoff, 1994)
Zelig (dir. & wr. Woody Allen, 1983)
The Elephant Man (David Lynch, wr. Christopher De Vore & Eric
Bergren, 1980)
Blazing Saddles (dir. & wr. Mel Brooks, wr. Andrew Bergman, 1974)
North by Northwest (Alfred Hitchcock, wr. Ernest Lehman, 1959) Right now I wish I'd included Playtime & La Jetée & Metropolis & The Red Shoes & Monty Python's Meaning of Life and I just realised there is no Marx Brothers or Kurosawa. Such is the cruelty of the top ten. Nicholas Searle is an up-and-coming Australian screenwriter whose credits include the short films The Other Son (Venice Film Festival 2000, Cannes Cinema du Antipodes 2000), Placement (London Film Festival 2003, Tribeca Film Festival 2003) and The Bottom Line (St Kilda Film Festival 2003), which he also directed.
Itay Sharon
Well, I'm taking the dare, even though it's incredibly cruel to make someone do this. I guess you could call me a film enthusiast and an aspiring film student/scholar. All my friends say that I'm crazy because I dedicate so much of my time/life to cinema. Whether it is reading/researching or watching films I am obsessed with the art form. Anyway here is my list (I know I've cheated a bit, but Ray's “Apu Trilogy” is more like one six hour film split into three sections):
(in no particular order)
Pulp Fiction (Quentin Tarantino, 1994) The list is likely to change on any given day, but honourable mentions go to: Hitchcock's Vertigo, Lang's M, Kassovitz's La Haine, Visconti's La Terra trema and Renoir's La Règle du jeu. Itay Sharon is 21 and from Hong Kong, and is currently studying business at UTS in Sydney.
Jason Sound
(revised list, in preferential order)
1. Lost Highway (David Lynch, 1997) Honorable mentions: Carnival of Souls (Herk Harvey, 1962), Onibaba (Kaneto Shindô, 1964), The Mother and the Whore (Jean Eustache, 1973), Eraserhead (David Lynch, 1976). See also Jason's previous list: Jul–Aug 2002 Jason Sound is a filmmaker and artist from Seattle, WA.
Susan Swenson
1. Andrei Rublev (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1966)
and in no real order:
Le Notti di Cabiria (Federico Fellini, 1957) And the next ten in no real order: Aguirre: The Wrath of God (Werner Herzog, 1972) / La Grande Illusion (Jean Renoir, 1937) / Los Olvidados (Luis Buñuel, 1950) / Fanny and Alexander (Ingmar Bergman, 1982) / The Red Shoes (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1949) / Memories of Underdevelopment (Tomás Gutiérrez Alea, 1968) / Le Genou de Claire (Eric Rohmer, 1971) / Dr. Strangelove (Stanley Kubrick, 1963) / Orfeu Negro (Marcel Camus, 1959) / Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! (Pedro Almodóvar, 1990). Susan Swenson is a budding cinéaste living in San Diego, California shortly to be relocating to San Francisco.
Erik Syngle
(in alphabetical order)
Before Sunrise (Richard Linklater, 1995) All apologies to historical and geographical balance, tempting as they are, but this is truly a list of films I'd take to the moon with me. Though I look forward to spending the rest of my life catching up with the history of film, that fact is I grew up in the 1990s, so it's only natural that certain films from the last decade or so have especially left their mark on me – some that others may baulk at, others certain to find a place in the Canon of decades to come. It's unthinkable that nothing by Tarkvosky figures into my list, but even more unthinkable would be the task of selecting only one or two. The same goes for Kubrick, Welles, Renoir and half a dozen others, but blame those artists for repeatedly creating aesthetic experiences so imaginatively complete that they transcend the hierarchies of individual films and become worlds unto themselves. The ten films above, on the other hand, much as they all may be pieces of something larger, can stand alone. Erik Syngle is a graduate student in Film Studies. He is a co-founder and co-editor of Reverse Shot and has also written for Film Comment.
Nathan Tyler
(in chronological order; forever subject to change)
Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960) Nathan Tyler is a 22 year-old Canadian writer, journalist, and editor. A lifelong aficionado of the horror genre, his articles, essays, and reviews have appeared in magazines such as Fangoria and Rue Morgue. He lives in Toronto, and is currently working on his first book.
Paul Verhoeven
(in no particular order)
Pierrot le Fou (Jean-Luc Godard, 1965) Time for some judicious name dropping. I neglected to put these films in order, because I refuse to put one over any other. I was torn by many choices; for example, I wanted to include works by Kurosawa, Linklater, Tarkovsky, Jarmusch, Hartley, gah! Will it never stop?!? Well, I guess I've made my bed, and now I have to sleep in it. Ergh. Stupid itchy sheets. Paul Verhoeven is a film studies major at UNSW Sydney, and a writer for Filmink magazine, and he regrets his namesake.
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TALLY at July–August 2003,
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By film: |
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|
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. |
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941) Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, 1976) Sunrise (F.W. Murnau, 1927) The Thin Red Line (Terrence Malick, 1998) La Règle du jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939) The Searchers (John Ford, 1956) Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) Seven Samurai (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) Au Hasard, Balthazar (Robert Bresson, 1966) |
69 43 39 29 28 27 26 25 24 24 24 |
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By director: |
| ||||
|
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. |
Alfred Hitchcock Jean-Luc Godard Orson Welles Stanley Kubrick Robert Bresson Martin Scorsese Andrei Tarkovsky Ingmar Bergman Carl Dreyer Akira Kurosawa |
129 91 86 82 75 70 68 62 57 55 |
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Richard Brennan
(the first five are in preferential order)
1. Jeux Interdits (René Clément, 1952) I would like to have room for: Chinatown (Roman Polanski, 1974), Notorious (Alfred Hitchcock, 1946), The Searchers (John Ford, 1956), Rebel Without a Cause (Nicholas Ray, 1955) and Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (Sam Peckinpah, 1973)… and about fifteen others. Like Tony Ginnane I can't get past the early '70s. Like Tait Brady I can't believe that Bob Mitchum is absent from my list – if not his spirit. Curiously the same directors, other than Ichikawa, could furnish me with an excellent ten worst list:
Paris brûle-t-il? (René Clément, 1966) I wish that I had room for: What? (Roman Polanski, 1973), Family Plot (Alfred Hitchcock, 1976), The Fugitive (John Ford, 1947), King of Kings (Nicholas Ray, 1961) and Convoy (Sam Peckinpah, 1978). Richard Brennan is based in Sydney and has been a producer of short films, feature films and telemovies since 1970 and is still in love with the cinema.
Florian Bülow
(in no particular order)
Throne of Blood (Akira Kurosawa, 1957) See also Florian's revised list: Oct–Dec 2004 Florian Bülow is 26 years old and is editor of the book review section of German film magazine F.LM.
Megan Carrigy
(in no particular order)
Delicatessen (Jean-Pierre Jeunet & Marc Caro, 1991) These are not all films in which I can entirely remember exactly 'what' happened. I perhaps couldn't quote you my favourite line from any, despite having watched most of them several times. I am not that kind of collector of the cinema. Even so, these films have collectively remained somehow in my body. And they resonate with me still, better than any others. Megan is a former film studies student turned occasional cinephile heralding from Sydney. She watches films when she can.
Bon Cheng
(in no particular order)
Floating Clouds (Mikio Naruse, 1955) Very special mention: Mother (Mikio Naruse, 1952); Sanshô dayû (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1954); Throne of Blood (Akira Kurosawa, 1957); In the Realm of the Senses (Nagisa Oshima, 1976); The Shining (Stanley Kubrick, 1980). I would like to mention little-known Japanese director Mikio Naruse. It's quite a pity that so many film-lovers and film critics worldwide neglect or do not know this great director. While Ozu, Kurosawa and Mizoguchi gradually received international attention, Naruse nowadays is still little-known. His films are melodramas and simple in directing skill, but the emotional spark from the characters and deeply-touching stories are rare in the films I've seen in my lifetime. Bon Cheng, 24, is a Hong Kong guy who loves watching films from all over the world. He often writes film criticism for competitions in Hong Kong.
John Davies
(revised list)
1. Sanshô dayû (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1954) and in alphabetical order:
Alice in the Cities (Wim Wenders, 1974) I again find myself letting down Renoir (Une Partie de Campagne, La Règle du jeu), and Fred Astaire. Can't we be allowed 20? I'm sure we all agree ten is torture. Vale Abraão (Oliveira), Letter from an Unknown Woman (Ophuls) and Celine et Julie Vont en Bateau (Rivette) just miss out, as do some longstanding favourites which are in less need of promotion. Cinema needs reclaiming from the warmongers, violent sickos, trash merchants, Anglophone imperialism and Hollywood's juvenile obsessions. The films I've listed are full of virtue – I think (!): wisdom, beauty, compassion, humanity, spiritual depth, peace, love... More impact in Anju's ripples in Sanshô dayû than a Hollywood tidal wave. An "After Life" film moment; the delicate poignancy of lovely Kagawa Kyôko going into the water. Homage to her, to Japanese cinema and in particular the great Mizoguchi. To quote the ending of Le Rayon vert (the most joyous, romantic single moment in films, which I treasure all the more for having witnessed the real thing – a precious, bright flash of emerald – with my wife) : "OUI!" See also John's other lists: May–June 2002 Oct–Dec 2004 John Davies is a kind, sensitive, cheerful, opinionated 42-year-old Welsh worrier; part-time Social Worker, full-time cinephile; writer for MovieMail; publicist for Brecon's superlative, flourishing film society (what a selection we show!); pitifully addicted list-maker; lover of poems, paintings (Vermeer, Hiroshige...); happy walker in the gorgeous local countryside with his beloved dog Bryn. Each year his ignorance of cinema becomes ever more apparent.
Chris Fujiwara
(revised list)
I used a random-number generator to select ten films from a list of 25 that have been on my mind for a while.
Two Rode Together (John Ford, 1961) The other 15 films were: Out 1: Spectre (Jacques Rivette, 1972), Bigger than Life (Nicholas Ray, 1956), The Magnificent Ambersons (Orson Welles, 1942), Beyond a Reasonable Doubt (Fritz Lang, 1956), The Bigamist (Ida Lupino, 1953), Sans soleil (Chris Marker, 1982), News from Home (Chantal Akerman, 1976), Le Ciel est à vous (Jean Grémillon, 1944), Love Streams (John Cassavetes, 1984), Le Charme Discret de la Bourgeoisie (Luis Buñuel, 1972), Rio Bravo (Howard Hawks, 1959), The Big Mouth (Jerry Lewis, 1967), Two Weeks in Another Town (Vincente Minnelli, 1962), Experiment Perilous (Jacques Tourneur, 1944), The Passenger (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1975). See also Chris' previous list: Feb–Mar 2001 Chris Fujiwara wrote the book Jacques Tourneur: The Cinema of Nightfall, and contributes to The Boston Phoenix and other publications. His home page contains links to his online writing on film. His old list might make more sense, or not.
Stephen Gwinn
(in preferential order)
1. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
2. Les Quatre cents coups (François Truffaut, 1959) If I were to make this list on any other day, it's quite probable that Rashomon (Kurosawa, 1950), Umberto D. (De Sica, 1952) Le Salaire de la peur (Clouzot, 1953), L'Avventura (Antonioni, 1960) and Dr. Strangelove (Kubrick, 1964) would be on it. Stephen Gwinn is a 20-year old cinephile/college student from Mesa, AZ. You may remember him from such German class films as Das Epos (Edenfield, 2000).
Jake Hinkson
(in no particular order)
To Live (Zhang Yimou, 1994) Honorable mentions: The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (John Ford, 1962), Ikiru (Akira Kurosawa, 1952), Au revoir les enfants (Louis Malle, 1987), Crimes and Misdemeanors (Woody Allen, 1989), Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941). See also Jake's revised list: Oct–Dec 2004 Jake Hinkson is a cinephile currently enrolled in the Creative Writing program at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington.
Cerise Howard
(revised list, in order of most felicitous double billings)
The Exterminating Angel (Luis Buñuel, 1962)
All About My Mother (Pedro Almodóvar, 1999)
Les Parapluies de Cherbourg (Jacques Demy, 1964)
Tenebrae (Dario Argento, 1982)
Spirited Away (Hayao Miyazaki, 2002) And Domo Darko? It's something I found on the Web (http://www.fnord.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/DomoDarko.ram), a montage of clips featuring a stop-motion Japanese satellite TV mascot over Gary Jules' take of "Mad World" from Donnie Darko. I melt every time I view it. Runners up: Once Upon a Time in the West (Sergeo Leone, 1968); Seven Samurai (Akira Kurosawa, 1954); Being John Malkovich (Spike Jonze, 1999); Duck Soup (Leo McCarey, 1933), and Starship Troopers (Paul Verhoeven, 1997). See also Cerise's previous list: June 2001 Cerise Howard is variously a lapsed film festival programmer, a musician, a New Zealander, a writer at work on her first novel, a Jill of all arts and Senses of Cinema's Top Tens compiler and web designer.
Jim Knox
(in no particular order)
Underground (Emir Kusturica, 1995) What all these films have in common is the startling audacity with which they were conceived and created: to see any of these films for the first time is to be re-awoken to the possibilities of cinema. I can't guarantee you'll enjoy the viewing – some of them can be frankly discomfiting – but I expect they're unlike to most anything else you might have seen. In this last respect, they're anomalous films – and it's precisely this peculiar, singular quality of certain films that keeps me so excited about cinema. By way of qualification: there's nothing listed here by Reinhard Hauff, no Jon Jost or Luis Buñuel or Raúl Ruiz, none of the early Polanskis, neither anything by the Brothers Quay... There's also a whole bunch of films I love, but neglected to mention simply because I figure you're already adequately familiar with them (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is, I think, one of the most perfectly realised films that I've ever seen/heard). Other films demand further viewings before I'm completely confirmed of an opinion (last year's Monkeybone, I loved at first sight... and I need to see William Peter Blatty's Twinkle, Twinkle, Killer Kane again, also). Ultimately, this was the first ten films that came to mind; as such its merely a reflection of my feelings at this particular moment in time. To be honest, I think a more fruitful idea would be to solicit lists of "Worst Ten" films; that would present a much tougher challenge... Jim Knox is a Melbourne-based writer, broadcaster, sound designer, animator, screen curator, and film and DVD distributor. For Jim's commentary on each of the films in his list, scroll down towards the bottom of the right frame at http://isosceles.alphalink.com.au and follow the link.
J.D. Lafrance
(in no particular order)
Blue Velvet (David Lynch, 1986) Special Mentions: Goodfellas (Martin Scorsese, 1990), My Own Private Idaho (Gus Van Sant, 1991), Manhattan (Woody Allen, 1979), Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941), Fight Club (David Fincher, 1999), The Thing (John Carpenter, 1982), Traffic (Steven Soderbergh, 2000) See also J.D.'s revised list: Jul–Sept 2005 J.D. Lafrance is a freelance film writer currently researching a book on the films of Michael Mann and is currently living somewhere in the United States.
Meredith Lewis
(in no particular order)
Jules et Jim (François Truffaut, 1962) Meredith Lewis is a film fan from Iowa, USA. David Lynch's Mulholland Drive has succeeded in grabbing her attention a good deal more than most recent movies.
Patrick Macias
(in vague sort-of semi order)
2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) Runners Up: The Trash Film Five – Almost more treasured than those listed above, what would life be like without them? A Better Tomorrow II (John Woo, 1987), Il Grande racket (Enzo G. Castellari, 1976), Godzilla Vs. Monster Zero (Ishirô Honda, 1965), Message From Space (Kinji Fukasaku, 1978) and Chinese Super Ninjas (Chang Cheh, 1982). Patrick Macias is the author of TokyoScope: The Japanese Cult Film Companion. His dream is to one day write the definitive biography of Dino De Laurentiis.
Jim May
Since Sight and Sound didn't bother to ask...
(in a secret order)
Celine et Julie Vont en Bateau (Jacques Rivette, 1974) Jim May works as temp at a rehab clinic in New York City. He sees many films and today is very upset with himself for not having seen more of that Nick Ray retro at MOMA. But seriously, $12 tickets? Hey, MOMA, The Gramercy ain't that fancy, yo.
Donald Lowndes Sanderson
There has to be a number one so let it be:
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) After that, with much use of a pencil and rubber, and in no particular order:
Singin' in the Rain (Stanley Donen & Gene Kelly, 1952)
Reservoir Dogs (Quentin Tarantino, 1992)
A Matter of Life and Death (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1946)
Out of the Past (Jacques Tourneur, 1947)
Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, 1976)
A Night at the Opera (Sam Wood, 1935)
In the Mood for Love (Wong Kar-wai, 2000)
Night on Earth (Jim Jarmusch, 1991)
Pandora's Box (G.W. Pabst, 1928) These are the ones that demanded to be in the list. Others with not so strident a voice that could/should be above: Hearts of Darkness, Un Coeur en hiver, Raise the Red Lantern, Three Colours (all three) and Casablanca. Donald Lowndes Sanderson is a teacher of A level Film Studies living in South Yorkshire, UK.
Jose Sarmiento
(in preferential order)
1. Persona (Ingmar Bergman, 1966) Runners up: 11. L'emploi du temps (Laurent Cantet, 2001); 12. O Brother, Where Art Thou? (Joel Coen, 2000); 13. Dancer in the Dark (Lars von Trier, 2000); 14. The Thin Red Line (Terrence Malick, 1998); 15. La Pianiste (Michael Haneke, 2001) You will see that some of my choices consist of contemporary and Hollywood films. This is because my interest in filmmaking began only three years ago. I guess this list will change gradually, depending upon my dedication to watching older films. Anyway, I think this list does express how I wish to approach "filmland", when, soon enough, I will start a career as a Film Director (hopefully). Jose Sarmiento is a 21 year-old studying Advertising at PUCP in Peru and has many film scripts in development. He will follow his Advertising studies with Film studies as a postgraduate in Madrid.
Karel Segers
(in preferential order)
1. Ladri di Biciclette (Vittorio de Sica, 1948) Too much good taste? I admit watching Bowfinger quite often... Karel Segers has 15 years experience in the international entertainment market. He worked as a movie buyer and later head of programming for Pay TV in Brussels, Amsterdam and London. He arrived in Sydney late 2001 to found OZZYWOOD Films, a boutique film production company.
Daniel Yacavone
(in no particular order)
Sans soleil (Chris Marker, 1982)
Dekalog (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1988)
2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
L'Atalante (Jean Vigo, 1934)
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
The Seventh Seal (Ingmar Bergman, 1957)
A Walk Through H (Peter Greenaway, 1978)
Mirror (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974)
L'Année dernière à Marienbad (Alain Resnais, 1962)
Pierrot le Fou (Jean-Luc Godard, 1965) Almost impossible to pick just ten, I have gone with a few favourites as well as "bests." Among the many others I could have chosen along this line: Rashomon (for its earnest humanism and the medium sequence as much as its celebrated structure), Trois couleurs: Rouge (the mystery of chance), Bande à part (children at play, the birth of the cool), Once Upon a Time in the West (the epic re-invented), Le Charme Discret de la Bourgeoisie (mature surrealism: oneric, hilarious). Side note: Hard to believe that there is not a Kieslowski film among the more than fifty chosen in Sight and Sound's latest critics poll...oh well, something to debate about, anyway. See also Daniel's revised list: Jul–Sept 2007 Daniel Yacavone is pursuing a PhD in European cinema at the University of Edinburgh on art in post-1960 film.
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TALLY at May–June 2003,
|
||||||||||||||||||||||
By film: |
|
||||
|
1. 2. 4. 5. 8. 9. 10 |
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941) 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) Sunrise (F.W. Murnau, 1927) La Règle du jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939) The Thin Red Line (Terrence Malick, 1998) Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, 1976) The Searchers (John Ford, 1956) Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) Seven Samurai (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) Au Hasard, Balthazar (Robert Bresson, 1966) |
70 39 39 27 26 26 26 25 23 22 22 |
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By director: |
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|
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. |
Alfred Hitchcock Jean-Luc Godard Orson Welles Stanley Kubrick Robert Bresson Andrei Tarkovsky Martin Scorsese Ingmar Bergman Carl Dreyer Akira Kurosawa Federico Fellini |
124 87 85 75 74 64 63 59 57 52 52 |
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Richard Armstrong
(revised list, in no particular order)
Double Indemnity (Billy Wilder, 1944) See also Richard's previous list: June 2001 Richard Armstrong is a film writer and an Associate Tutor affiliated to the British Film Institute (Bfi). He is currently preparing a textbook on Realism for the Bfi. His first book was Billy Wilder, American Film Realist (McFarland, 2000).
Tina Bastajian
(in no particular order – changes daily)
La Battaglia di Algeri (Gillo Pontecorvo, 1965) Very Special Mentions: Weekend, Vivre sa vie, Numero Deux (Jean-Luc Godard 1967, 1962, 1975); Les Glaneurs et la glaneuse (Agnés Varda, 2000); Calendar (Atom Egoyan, 1993); Adynata (Leslie Thornton, 1983); Unsere Afrikareise (Peter Kubelka, 1961–66) Tina Bastajian is a film/video artist and media educator based in Los Angeles. For more information, you can enter her name in a search on the website of her distributor, V-tape in Toronto.
Jorge Didaco
(in chronological order)
Gueule d'amour (Jean Grémillon, 1937) As you can see I'm in the mood for love... These films are all, in some way or another, stories of amour fou and I can only respond to them with the same irrefutable, unconditional love. They changed the way I see, the way I perceive, the way I relate to other things and people, they changed in fact my entire constitution. And I think in their small, quiet way they changed Cinema. Oh – and I also miss The Suspect (Robert Siodmark, 1944), Portrait of Jennie (William Dieterle, 1948), Ruby Gentry (King Vidor, 1952), There's Always Tomorrow (Douglas Sirk, 1956), Forty Guns (Samuel Fuller, 1957), ... Jorge Didaco is a 36-year-old Brazil-based teacher and writer in theatre, performance and film.
Ronald Feichtmeir
(in preferential order)
1. Three Colours: Red (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1994)
3. Blow-Up (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1966) All of these films remind me of how much I want to be alive and how much I want to ask good questions while I'm alive, to better approach the values I do, and will, cherish before I'm six feet under. Watching 8½ I felt hopeful because there was proof of this great clarity and love at the end of the film; I wanted to see the world as Fellini showed me it in his story. I think these days I've managed to see in an approximate way some of the time. These are treasured and innocent times for myself. Ronald Feichtmeir is a college student living in Palo Alto, California, U.S.A.
Joe Friesen
(in chronological order)
City Lights (Charles Chaplin, 1931) Sigh. The runners-up that I couldn't squeeze in... Duck Soup (Leo McCarey, 1933); Once Upon a Time in the West (Sergio Leone, 1969); Pather Panchali (Satyajit Ray, 1955); Andrei Rublev (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1966); and, how could I forget... Plan 9 From Outer Space (Ed Wood, 1959), the most perversely charming and effective piece of crap I've ever seen. See also Joe's revised list: Jul–Sept 2004 Joe Friesen is an 18 year old film enthusiast and aspiring film student/scholar living in Portland, Oregon.
Dave Heaton
I recently got hooked on reading the top ten lists and thought I'd offer mine.
(in chronological order)
The Third Man (Carol Reed, 1949) These are ten films that absolutely knocked me over… the first time I saw them, and every time since. See also Dave's revised list: Jul–Sept 2007 Dave Heaton is a writer currently living in Lansing, Michigan, USA. He is the editor of ErasingClouds.com, a quarterly music/film/arts magazine.
Hwanhee Lee
(in no particular order)
Barry Lyndon (Stanley Kubrick, 1975) See also Hwanhee's revised list: Jul–Sept 2006 Hwanhee Lee wrote the Terrence Malick entry in Senses of Cinema's Great Directors critical database.
Olaf Möller
(in alphabetical order, except the first one)
Kagemusha (Akira Kurosawa, 1980) So okay, it's eleven films – but let me treat you to a gem of German folk wisdom: "Elf Freunde sollt ihr sein!" (Eleven friends thou shallst be): That's the Bern Spirit, that's what got Germany its first Football World Championship win in 1954 – that's ESSENTIAL. And, it's ten plus one which is also always beautiful. And it's against the rules, as it should be, at least as long as some people actually think there is something like the ten best films of all time – fuck it!, either you love cinema, which includes wallowing around in the pleasures of porno and gore and 'unworthy' movies in general as well as being uplifted by all that's good and great, or you should look for a less lively art to consort with, like some dead music theatre, or aerobics. Cinema is a whole, a very lively and contradictory beast/lover/whatever, and it doesn't like to be weighed and measured in such petty ways. Which means that these films also don't symbolise/stand for certain groups/genres/continents etc. They stand for themselves, not even for their directors in general, just for themselves. Which in essence means that this list is a kind of personal statement: it doesn't pretend to say anything profound about the meaning and future of cinema, it's just me – you can fucking analyse me through this list (yeah, you wish), where I come from cinephilically (especially Kurosawa, Hu, Peckinpah, Franju, Anderson), what I believe in, how I see things – which makes it a little tribute to the fairest and most charming Anna F., to our discussions about the meaning of these kinds of lists, and somesuch (hehe). Olaf Möller is a cinephile, writer, translator and curator based in Cologne, Germany.
Patrick J. O'Malley Jr.
(in preferential order)
1. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) It's rather fitting that the best films come down to "Top Ten" lists, which can be more appropriately called "Stranded on a Deserted Island" lists. While each of the above films deals with their own story and genre, their basic theme is the same, that being existentialism, or a sole man's purpose in this "absurd" world. If I'm destined to be stranded on a deserted island, I hope I get stranded twice so I can bring these along as well: The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (John Ford, 1962), Le Mépris (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963), Days of Heaven (Terrence Malick, 1978), Jacob's Ladder (Adrian Lyne, 1990), and the inseparable Godfather: Parts I & II (1972 & 1974). Patrick O'Malley is a former film student, now close to being an attorney and businessman in Chicago, Illinois, where his film-viewing time gets unfortunately shorter every year.
CK Penchant
(in no particular order)
The Long Goodbye (Robert Altman, 1974) Pierrot le Fou (Jean-Luc Godard, 1965)
Do the Right Thing (Spike Lee, 1989)
Happy Together (Wong Kar-wai, 1997)
The Young Girls of Rochefort (Jacques Demy, 1967)
Gohatto (Nagisa Oshima, 1999) Se7en (David Fincher, 1995)
Sex: The Annabel Chong Story (Gough Lewis, 1999) Runners up: Double Indemnity (Billy Wilder, 1944); La Battaglia di Algeri (Gillo Pontecorvo, 1965); M (Fritz Lang, 1931); Muriel (Alain Resnais, 1963); Dead Man (Jim Jarmusch, 1995). CK Penchant is an adults-only cartoonist from Oakland, whose digital playground is www.furnation.com/penchant.
Christian Ramírez
(in no particular order)
The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1943) Runners up: Ordet (Carl Dreyer, 1954), The Ladies' Man (Jerry Lewis, 1961), High and Low (Akira Kurosawa, 1963), Barry Lyndon (Stanley Kubrick, 1975), Sherman's March (Ross McElwee, 1986) Christian Ramírez lives in Chile and is a film critic for El Mercurio de Santiago.
David Stevens
(in preferential order)
1. Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) David Stevens is currently doing a PhD in Film Studies at Reading University on Hollywood 1967–76, Forms in Transition.
Richard Suchenski
(in preferential order)
1. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) These sorts of lists are always incomplete and, on another day, my list might include works by filmmakers like Mizoguchi, Ozu, Dreyer, Antonioni, Fellini, Malick, Kieslowski, Godard, Wenders, Polanski, Hou Hsiao-Hsien or Chris Marker. Ah well, such is life. Richard Suchenski is a diehard cineaste currently studying film, literature and Japanese at Princeton University. He has been a film fan ever since his father took him to see 2001 the week before his tenth birthday.
Matthew Thomas
(in preferential order)
1. The Godfather II (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974) I wanted to list films by ten different directors, so I was forced to slight Tarkovsky's Zerkalo and Coppola's The Conversation. Also Worthy of Mention: Le Genou de Claire (Eric Rohmer, 1970), Un Chien andalou (Salvador Dali and Luis Buñuel, 1928), Lawrence of Arabia (David Lean, 1962). Matthew Thomas is a high school teacher living in Japan where he has been known to put entire classes to sleep by subjecting them to Tarkovsky films.
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TALLY at March–April 2003,
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By film: |
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1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 8. 9. 10. |
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941) 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) Sunrise (F.W. Murnau, 1927) La Règle du jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939) The Searchers (John Ford, 1956) The Thin Red Line (Terrence Malick, 1998) Seven Samurai (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) Au Hasard, Balthazar (Robert Bresson, 1966) |
66 37 35 27 26 25 25 24 23 22 |
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By director: |
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1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 9. 10. |
Alfred Hitchcock Jean-Luc Godard Orson Welles Robert Bresson Stanley Kubrick Andrei Tarkovsky Martin Scorsese Carl Dreyer Ingmar Bergman Akira Kurosawa |
117 83 81 72 69 61 57 57 55 53 |
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Robert Bezimienny
(in no particular order)
Pather Panchali (Satyajit Ray, 1955) David Lynch, François Truffaut, Werner Herzog, Rainer Fassbinder, and others could all feature in a longer list. Being entertained can be a very tedious business. For many years Mr. Bezimienny was disappointed with film – during his delicate formative years he was damaged by an aesthetic experience involving Tom Cruise – but has recently discovered the true joys of the silver screen.
Nicholas Butler
(in chronological order)
The Day of the Jackal (Fred Zinnemann, 1973) The ten greatest contemporary films that I consistently find myself rewatching for their emphasis on character development and skillful direction, driven by stunning performances by their lead actors, from Fox in Zinnemann's Jackal to most recently Bale in Harron's American Psycho. I threw the Holy Grail in because it's simply one of the funniest movies of all time. Nicholas Butler is an English major with an emphasis on film studies and production at the U.S. Air Force Academy, Colorado.
Kevin Cassidy
(in preferential order)
1. Les Parapluies de Cherbourg (Jacques Demy, 1964) On any other day I could include Sons of the Desert, Napoleon, The Miracle of Morgan's Creek, The Mask of Dimitrios. Kevin Cassidy is a film fanatic living in Melbourne, Australia.
Clive Conway
(in preferential order)
1. Battleship Potemkin (Sergei Eisenstein, 1925)
2. Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941)
5. M (Fritz Lang, 1931)
6. Nosferatu (F.W. Murnau, 1922)
7. Wallace & Gromit: The Wrong Trousers (Nick Park, 1993)
8. Die Nibelungen: Kriemhild's Revenge (Fritz Lang, 1924)
9. Raiders of the Lost Ark (Steven Spielberg, 1981)
10. The Madness of King George (Nicholas Hytner, 1994) Hard to leave out: Kieslowski's Three Colours: Blue, Hitchcock's Vertigo, Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange, Huston's The Maltese Falcon and Lean's Brief Encounter, amongst countless others. Clive Conway is a writer, editor and new media conversationalist from Adelaide, South Australia, who loves the cinema because it gives one an excuse to eat Maltesers.
Jason Cooper
(in preferential order)
1. The Thin Red Line (Terrence Malick, 1998) Jason Cooper is a screenwriter and has previously taught film studies at the college level. He lives in Cheyenne, Wyoming.
Daniel Garris
(in preferential order)
1. 8½ (Federico Fellini, 1963) 5 sentimental favourites that just miss the cut: Intolerance (Griffith, 1916), Dumbo (Sharpsteen, 1941), Some Like it Hot (Wilder, 1959), Amarcord (Fellini, 1974), The Empire Strikes Back (Kershner, 1980). Daniel Garris runs the movie website BoxOfficeReport.com, and is currently an undergraduate film studies student at UC Santa Barbara.
John Gianvito
(not necessarily in preferential order)
1. Grand Meaulnes (Jean-Gabriel Albicocco, 1967) Personal favourites as opposed to "greatest films". Attempting to define poetry, Emily Dickinson said, "If I read a book and it makes my whole body feel so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. Is there any other way?" These are some of the films which altered my anatomy, left me reeling and changed. The Game of Ten leaves out many (including Antonioni's The Passenger, Eustache's The Mother and the Whore, Akerman's Toute une nuit, among others) and documentaries were left for another list. John Gianvito is a filmmaker, curator, and teacher presently residing in Boston, Massachusetts, USA.
Craig Harshaw
(in preferential order)
1. La Passion de Jeanne D'Arc (Carl Dreyer, 1928) Craig Harshaw is a performance artist and National Executive Director of Insight Arts (with sites in Chicago, Illinois and Oakland, California.), a contemporary arts organization dedicated to increasing access to cultural work that supports social justice and defends human rights.
Paul Jeffery
(in preferential order)
1. A Woman Under the Influence (John Cassavetes, 1974)
2. Marat/Sade (Peter Brook, 1966)
3. Il y a des jours... et des lunes (Claude Lelouch, 1990)
4. Festen (Thomas Vinterberg, 1998)
5. Little Murders (Alan Arkin, 1971)
6. Weekend (Jean-Luc Godard, 1967)
7. Va Savoir (Jacques Rivette, 2001)
8. Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, 1976)
9. La Passion de Jeanne D'Arc (Carl Dreyer, 1928)
10. Waking the Dead (Keith Gordon, 2000) Honourable mentions to every single person stupid enough to have put their vision on film (or video). It would be less humiliating to just bend over and show the world your anus. Paul Jeffery is 29 and lives in Melbourne. His first DV feature, Adam and Eve, screened for a dozen people at MUFF before vanishing without trace. He's now working on his second, provisionally entitled "Here is My Anus".
T.R. Justus
(in alphabetical order)
Cinema Paradiso (Guiseppe Tornatore, 1989) T.R. Justus is an 18 year young cinephile and home movie-maker from Canada.
Michael Koresky
(in alphabetical order)
Cabaret (Bob Fosse, 1972) And thanks to the following 5 movies from the past few years for keeping hope alive: A.I. Artificial Intelligence (Spielberg), Mulholland Drive (Lynch), All About Lily Chou-Chou (Shunji Iwai), In the Mood for Love (Wong Kar-Wai), and Bamboozled (Spike Lee). Michael Koresky is an editor and staff writer for Film Comment magazine.
Nelson Lau
(in preferential order)
1. Il Postino (Michael Radford, 1994) Just missed out... 11. Lord of the Rings (Peter Jackson, 2001), 12. Don Juan DeMarco (Jeremy Leven, 1995), 13. American History X (Tony Kaye, 1998), 14. Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain (Jean-Pierre Jeunet, 2001), 15. In the Mood for Love (Wong Kar-wai, 2000). Nelson works as a part-time doctor and part time film director. He has directed several award-winning short films as well as documentaries.
Stephen Macy
(in a cosmic order)
The Birds (Alfred Hitchcock, 1963)
Ghost World (Terry Zwigoff, 2001)
Body Double (Brian De Palma, 1983)
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, 1976)
Los Olvidados (Luis Buñuel, 1950)
Weekend (Jean-Luc Godard, 1967)
Videodrome (David Cronenberg, 1982)
Crash (David Cronenberg, 1996)
Full Frontal (Steven Soderbergh, 2002) Stephen Macy is remotely located in the United States of America. He has taken film classes but has yet to graduate from the world of cinema. He wants to write articles for Senses of Cinema but things never quite turn out as they are planned.
Jarod Mansour
(in preferential order)
1. Annie Hall (Woody Allen, 1977) and Bottle Rocket (Wes Anderson, 1996)
3. The Elephant Man (David Lynch, 1980) I think most of these movies I have an emotional connection or memory with. If not, then it seemed like the movie was relating a feeling that I had gone through or was going through. It was really hard to leave out any of Jarmusch's movies, especially Mystery Train and Stranger Than Paradise, and all of Woody Allen's, Wes Anderson's, and Stanley Kubrick's movies would have made my list if given enough spaces. Jarod Mansour is a songwriter from South Carolina. He has a website at www.jarodsnewway.com.
Russell Ould
(in no particular order)
The Seventh Seal (Ingmar Bergman, 1957) And special mention to: Sunday Too Far Away (1975), Blade Runner (1982), King Kong (1933), Akira (1988), The Last Detail (1973). Russell Ould lives in Birmingham, England, and is a serious filmbuff of over 20 years and a great fan of Japanese and European cinema, especially Bresson and Kitano. As Sonatine97, he contributes to www.imdb.com.
Sue Rienks
(in preferential order)
1. Beau Travail (Claire Denis, 1999) Sue Rienks is a mother who needs to get out more.
Peter Tonguette
(in alphabetical order)
Barry Lyndon (Stanley Kubrick, 1975) Runners-Up: Celine and Julie Go Boating (Jacques Rivette, 1974); Chinatown (Roman Polanski, 1974); Late Spring (Yasujiro Ozu, 1949); Playtime (Jacques Tati, 1967); They All Laughed (Peter Bogdanovich, 1981). Unexpectedly, in the process of narrowing down choices for this list 1974 emerged as a cinematic year on a par with 1928 or 1948. Just among the films listed above, we have the respective best films from three of the most important directors of the modern era: Altman, Polanski, and Rivette. If I hadn't limited myself to films prior to 1990, Malick's The Thin Red Line (1998), Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut (1999) and Yang's Yi Yi (2000) may have made the cut. See also Peter's revised lists: Jul–Sept 2004 July–Sept 2006 Peter Tonguette is a critic and essayist. His writing has appeared in The Film Journal, Senses of Cinema, and elsewhere.
Samuel Wigley
(in no particular order)
Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1943) Just outside: Une Partie de Campagne (Renoir, 1936), Lawrence of Arabia (Lean, 1962), Pulp Fiction (Tarantino, 1994), The Big Lebowski (Coen, 1998) and The Battle of Algiers (Pontecorvo, 1965). See also Samuel's revised lists: Jul–Sept 2004 Apr–June 2007 Sam Wigley is a postgraduate Visual Culture student at the University of Nottingham.
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TALLY at January–February 2003,
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By film: |
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1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 9. |
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941) 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) La Règle du jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939) Sunrise (F.W. Murnau, 1927) The Searchers (John Ford, 1956) The Thin Red Line (Terrence Malick, 1998) Seven Samurai (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) Au Hasard, Balthazar (Robert Bresson, 1966) Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) |
64 35 32 26 25 24 23 23 21 21 |
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By director: |
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1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. |
Alfred Hitchcock Orson Welles Jean-Luc Godard Robert Bresson Stanley Kubrick Andrei Tarkovsky Martin Scorsese Carl Dreyer Ingmar Bergman Federico Fellini |
113 79 78 69 64 59 56 55 53 50 |
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