TALLY at July–September 2004, after 436 original lists, 61 revised lists, and 4 deleted lists: By film: Vertigo  1.  2.  3.  4.  5.  7.  9. 10. Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) 2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941) La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939) Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927) Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976) 8½        (Federico Fellini, 1963) Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966) The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956) Mirror        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974) 86 50 49 39 34 34 33 33 29 28 28 By director: Robert Bresson  1.  2.  3.  4.  5.  6.  7.  8.  9. 10. Alfred Hitchcock Jean-Luc Godard Orson Welles Stanley Kubrick Robert Bresson Ingmar Bergman Andrei Tarkovsky Martin Scorsese Akira Kurosawa Carl Dreyer 158 109 107 104   90   88   86   85   74   73   back to the top of the page

April–June 2004   Bill Blick Matthew Clayfield Aurelio Nieto Codina Ruslan Dzhanumyan   revised list David Ehrenstein   revised list Matthew Ford Chemi González J. Alec Hawkins Quatrain Heifer Jack Hughes Jack Jewers   revised list Tally: Apr–June 2004 Ian Laird Matt Langdon R.C.H. Lui Jay MacIntyre   revised list Peter Nagels Darragh O'Donoghue Steve Rybin Christopher Sharrett Simon Strong George Taylor Josh Timmermann Ryan Wells

Bill Blick (in no particular order) One-Eyed Jacks        (Marlon Brando, 1961) The most underrated western of all time. It's got guts, character, and smarts. Journal d'un curé de campagne        (Robert Bresson, 1950) A quiet, delicate film full of nuance and introspection. Watching the film is a meditative experience. Mean Streets        (Martin Scorsese, 1973) Brilliant personal film and character study. Rififi        (Jules Dassin, 1955) The best caper movie ever with the best heist scene ever. A gritty portrayal of the French underworld. Der Letzte Mann        (F.W. Murnau, 1924) A brilliant Kammerspiel and a great tribute to the common man. Z        (Costa-Gavras, 1969) The all-time greatest political paranoia film. Rashomon        (Akira Kurosawa, 1950) A beautiful film that most effectively deals with the ambiguity of truth. Blood Simple        (Joel Coen, 1983) A neo-noir masterpiece displaying incredible mastery of technique of the genre film. Kiss Me Deadly        (Robert Aldrich, 1955) A bizarre take on the hardboiled detective film with strangely allegorical elements. Shock Corridor        (Samuel Fuller, 1963) Sensationalism at its best. Bill Blick is a freelance writer and cinephile hailing from Bellerose, New York. He has a BA in Media Studies and an MA in English Literature from Queens College. Matthew Clayfield (in preferential order) 1.  Lawrence of Arabia        (David Lean, 1962) 2.  Casablanca        (Michael Curtiz, 1942) 3.  The Godfather        (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972) 4.  Blade Runner        (Ridley Scott, 1982) 5.  Bande à part        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1964) 6.  North by Northwest        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1959) 7.  Pulp Fiction        (Quentin Tarantino, 1994) 8.  Singin' in the Rain        (Stanley Donen & Gene Kelly, 1952) 9.  Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976) 10.  The General        (Buster Keaton/Clyde Bruckman, 1926) See also Matthew's revised lists: Apr–June 2005      Jul–Sept 2006 Matthew Clayfield is a film and television student at Bond University in Queensland, Australia. Aurelio Nieto Codina (in no particular order) Marnie        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1964) Ordet        (Carl Dreyer, 1954) Viridiana        (Luis Buñuel, 1961) Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) Sanshô dayû        (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1954) The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance        (John Ford, 1962) Barry Lyndon        (Stanley Kubrick, 1975) Casanova        (Federico Fellini, 1976) Wild Strawberries        (Ingmar Bergman, 1957) Moonfleet        (Fritz Lang, 1955) I will also mention a Spanish movie, an unknown masterpiece, it is really superb: Vida en sombras (Lorenzo Llobet Gracia, 1948). The title translated to English is “Live in Shadows”. Aurelio Nieto Codina was born in 1965 in Madrid, Spain, and has been a film fanatic since he was a kid, with a special penchant for classic American movies. He is a Doctor in Geography, teaches History and Urban Geography in Fuenlabrada, Madrid, and has studied the relationship between urbanism and cinema, i.e., the role of the city in the movies. He wrote about Pasolini in the Spanish magazine OrientacioneS in 2002. Ruslan Dzhanumyan (revised list, in preferential order) 1.  Ivan the Terrible, Parts I and II        (Sergei Eisenstein, 1945 and 1958) 2.  I Racconti di Canterbury        (Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1972) 3.  Simon of the Desert        (Luis Buñuel, 1965) 4.  Doomed Love        (Manoel de Oliveira, 1979) 5.  Le Testament d'Orphée        (Jean Cocteau, 1959) 6.  Monsieur Verdoux        (Charles Chaplin, 1947) 7.  Lancelot du Lac        (Robert Bresson, 1974) 8.  Blow Out        (Brian De Palma, 1981) 9.  Othello        (Orson Welles, 1951) 10.  Asthenic Syndrome        (Kira Muratova, 1989) Too early to tell: Flowers of Shanghai (Hou Hsaio-hsien, 1998); Mulholland Drive (David Lynch, 2001); Pulp Fiction (Quentin Tarantino, 1994); Through the Olive Trees (Abbas Kiarostami, 1994); The Hole (Tsai Ming-liang, 1998). See also Ruslan's previous list: Mar–Apr 2002 Ruslan Dzhanumyan is a biology and film student at the University of California, Irivine. David Ehrenstein (revised list, in preferential order) 1.  Those Who Love Me Can Take the Train        (Patrice Chéreau, 1998) 2.  8½        (Federico Fellini, 1963) 3.  The Night of the Hunter        (Charles Laughton, 1955) 4.  The Red Shoes        (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1949) 5.  Lola Montès        (Max Ophuls, 1955) 6.  Playtime        (Jacques Tati, 1967) 7.  The Leopard        (Luchino Visconti, 1963) 8.  Duelle        (Jacques Rivette, 1976) 9.  Pas sur la bouche        (Alain Resnais, 2003) 10.  Good News        (Charles Walters, 1947) See also David's other lists: Jul–Aug 2002      Jul–Sept 2006 David Ehrenstein is the author of Open Secret: Gay Hollywood 1928-2000 (Harper, 2000), The Scorsese Picture (Birch Lane Press, 1992) and Film: The Front Line 1984 (Arden Press, 1984). His essays have appeared in Film Comment and Film Quarterly. He participated in the roundtable discussion “Obscure Objects of Desire” with Raymond Durgnat and Jonathan Rosenbaum in Film Comment (July–August 1978). Visit www.ehrensteinland.com. Matthew Ford (in chronological order) La Dolce Vita        (Federico Fellini, 1960) 8½        (Federico Fellini, 1963) Masculin Féminin        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1966) Il Conformista        (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1969) Le Charme Discret de la Bourgeoisie        (Luis Buñuel, 1972) Chinatown        (Roman Polanski, 1974) Mirror        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974) Nashville        (Robert Altman, 1975) Raging Bull        (Martin Scorsese, 1980) Underground        (Emir Kusturica, 1995) This is a rather conservative list by my reckoning, with a peculiar predilection for the early '70s. On a different day it would have some early Hollywood noir, a Japanese film or two and some more nouvelle vague. Melville and Roeg loom as potential dark horses, and it would also be nice to find space for a musical. (If only we used a dodecimal numbering system…) Matthew Ford is an independent filmmaker based in Sydney. Chemi González (in order of preference – by how strongly these films made an impact on me when I saw them for the first time, and how that impression has held up over time) 1.  McCabe & Mrs. Miller        (Robert Altman, 1971) 2.  The Exterminating Angel        (Luis Buñuel, 1962) 3.  Une Femme est une femme        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1961) 4.  The Apartment        (Billy Wilder, 1960) 5.  Chinese Roulette        (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1976) 6.  Blow-Up        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1966) 7.  The Purple Rose of Cairo        (Woody Allen, 1985) 8.  8½        (Federico Fellini, 1963) 9.  A Woman Under the Influence        (John Cassavetes, 1974) 10.  Underground        (Emir Kusturica, 1995) Making a top ten list – or even a 100 best list – is always such a difficult and demanding task. Just when you think you have everything covered, there are always some titles that keep popping into your head. I decided that my top ten would be a mixture of films that have always represented a lot to me and have shaped my interest in film (The Purple Rose of Cairo, 8½), with the addition of some recent favourites as well as some films that I simply respond to not only in cinematic terms but in emotional terms too (McCabe & Mrs. Miller, The Apartment). This list is very incomplete, a little American-centric and if I were to do it again tomorrow it would probably be a little different (I know I keep changing my Fassbinder pick from Satan's Brew to Chinese Roulette, from list to list). And even though some of my favourite directors are there, it's a shame about all those I had to leave out. Aki Kaurismäki, Claude Chabrol, Nicolas Roeg, Ken Russell, Atom Egoyan, Douglas Sirk, Ozu, Brian De Palma…but again that is the magic and the curse of these lists. Chemi González is a student at the University of Puerto Rico, currently majoring in film and literature. He has made some short films and writes for a Puertorrican journal, Claridad, about film. J. Alec Hawkins (in preferential order) 1.  Hour of the Wolf        (Ingmar Bergman, 1968) 2.  Aguirre: The Wrath of God        (Werner Herzog, 1972) 3.  La Passion de Jeanne D'Arc        (Carl Dreyer, 1928) 4.  Alphaville        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1965) 5.  Bad Lieutenant        (Abel Ferrara, 1992) 6.  The Great Ecstasy of Woodcarver Steiner        (Werner Herzog, 1974) 7.  Vivre sa vie        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1962) 8.  Last Tango in Paris        (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1972) 9.  Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story        (Todd Haynes, 1987) 10.  Puce Moment        (Kenneth Anger, 1949) Honourable mention: Sans soleil (Chris Marker, 1982); The Unbearable Lightness of Being (Philip Kaufman, 1987); The Last Temptation of Christ (Martin Scorsese, 1988); Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, 1982); Grey Gardens (David & Albert Maysles, Ellen Hovde & Muffie Meyer, 1975). There are so many movies yet to see, but for now, these are the ones that still linger in my mind. A great thanks to these great masters of cinema. In 100 years you have changed the way we think, see, and love. J. Alec Hawkins is a filmmaker from Columbus, MS. Quatrain Heifer Ten films that knocked my socks off: (in alphabetical order) Amateur        (Hal Hartley, 1994) Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966) Black Narcissus        (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1947) Desperate Living        (John Waters, 1977) Gasman        (Lynne Ramsay, 1997) Pather Panchali        (Satyajit Ray, 1955) Regen        (Joris Ivens, 1929) Sans Soleil        (Chris Marker, 1982) Stroszek        (Werner Herzog, 1977) Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story        (Todd Haynes, 1987) Some shout-outs to Chantal Akerman, F.W. Murnau, Lukas Moodysson, Yasujiro Ozu, Preston Sturges and Jean Vigo. Quatrain Heifer is a pseudonym studying digital farts at an acronymic art school in an acronymic country between two shining seas. Jack Hughes (in alphabetical order) Celine et Julie Vont en Bateau        (Jacques Rivette, 1974) Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941) Dog Star Man        (Stan Brakhage, 1962–64) The King of Comedy        (Martin Scorsese, 1983) Love Streams        (John Cassavetes, 1984) Ordet        (Carl Dreyer, 1954) Orphée        (Jean Cocteau, 1950) The Passenger        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1975) Playtime        (Jacques Tati, 1967) Rio Bravo        (Howard Hawks, 1959) Which of course fails to do justice to Hitchcock, Bresson, Pasolini and at least twenty others. If the object were to select ten films for a desert island, I would have to find room somewhere for Les Parapluies de Cherbourg (Jacques Demy, 1964) and The Band Wagon (Vincente Minnelli, 1953). Jack Hughes writes film reviews for the Outreach Connection in Toronto, Canada. Jack Jewers (revised list, in chronological order) Napoléon        (Abel Gance, 1927) Bitter Rice        (Giuseppe De Santis, 1949) Rear Window        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1954) Hidden Fortress        (Akira Kurosawa, 1958) A Bout de Souffle        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1959) The Virgin Spring        (Ingmar Bergman, 1960) La Dolce Vita        (Federico Fellini, 1960) Lawrence of Arabia        (David Lean, 1962) A Clockwork Orange        (Stanley Kubrick, 1971) Manhattan        (Woody Allen, 1979) I limited myself to one per director, otherwise I could quite easily have included Le Notti di Cabiria and The Seventh Seal. Nothing from the '80s I realise, which is probably wrong. I think that it's harder to tell about films made in the last ten years, otherwise I'd have no hesitation in checking off Mulholland Drive, Donnie Darko and Everyone Says I Love You. These things always fall somewhere between amusing and infuriating to put together! But in the end, of course, it is only a game. See also Jack's previous list: May–June 2002 Jack Jewers is a director from London. Ian Laird (in preferential order) 1.  The General        (Buster Keaton/Clyde Bruckman, 1926) Boy has train. Boy loses train. Boy finds train. 2.  L'Atalante        (Jean Vigo, 1934) Vigo's poem of the bargees' life illuminated by the light from Dita Parlo's wedding dress. 3.  Singin' in the Rain        (Stanley Donen & Gene Kelly, 1952) Genuinely witty, and some of the best dance caught on film. 4.  High and Low        (Akira Kurosawa, 1963) A moral dilemma in a social context personified by the immortal Toshiro Mifune. 5.  Through a Glass Darkly        (Ingmar Bergman, 1961) Raw emotion in an elemental, physical and emotional environment. 6.  Red Sorghum        (Zhang Yimou, 1987) You can hear the rustling of the sorghum even now. The most robust of love stories. 7.  The Apu Trilogy        (Satyajit Ray, 1955–59) A family saga of profound humanity. 8.  Raging Bull        (Martin Scorsese, 1980) No film seemed real after this one. 9.  Blade Runner        (Ridley Scott, 1982) Makes happiness seem a dubious choice. 10.  Some Like it Hot        (Billy Wilder, 1959) Deceptively light, supremely funny comedy. Ian Laird is manager of Eastside Radio 89.7fm, Sydney, and Executive Producer of “Cinemascape”, a national review show broadcast via the Community Radio Satellite. Matt Langdon (in chronological order) Sherlock, Jr.        (Buster Keaton, 1924) The Man with a Movie Camera        (Dziga Vertov, 1928) Laura        (Otto Preminger, 1944) La Belle et la bête        (Jean Cocteau, 1946) Rashomon        (Akira Kurosawa, 1950) Scorpio Rising        (Kenneth Anger, 1964) Persona        (Ingmar Bergman, 1966) Weekend        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1967) McCabe & Mrs. Miller        (Robert Altman, 1971) Nostalghia        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1983) I enjoy so many films by directors of the past such as Ozu, Mizoguchi, Hawks, Buñuel, Lubitsch and Brakhage, and of the present such as Hou Hsiao-hsien, Yang, Angelopoulos, Wong Kar-wai, Akerman and Leconte that I feel careless leaving them out. And some films, such as I Walked with a Zombie (Jacques Tourneur, 1943), Simple Men (Hal Hartley, 1992) and Mean Streets (Martin Scorsese, 1973), I've seen so many times I feel they should be included as footnote pleasure (no guilt here). But they would certainly make my top 20 or 30. Matt Langdon is a freelance film critic living in Los Angeles. He has a personal website called “Rashomon” that deals with politics, media and film. R.C.H. Lui (in preferential order) 1.  A Chinese Odyssey Parts I & II        (Jeffrey Lau, 1994) 2.  Cries and Whispers        (Ingmar Bergman, 1972) 3.  Love Letter        (Shunji Iwai, 1995) 4.  Dekalog        (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1988) 5.  Persona        (Ingmar Bergman, 1966) 6.  The Private Eye Blues        (Eddie Fong, 1994) 7.  Ikiru        (Akira Kurosawa, 1952) 8.  Repulsion        (Roman Polanski, 1965) 9.  Chungking Express        (Wong Kar-wai, 1994) 10.  Mirror        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974) Honorable mentions: Much Ado About Nothing (Kenneth Branagh, 1993); Breaking the Waves (Lars von Trier, 1996); 92 Legendary La Rose Noire (Jeffrey Lau, 1992); Scenes from a Marriage (Ingmar Bergman, 1973); The Purple Rose of Cairo (Woody Allen, 1985). R.C.H. Lui is an amateur filmmaker and a CPA in Texas. He was born in Hong Kong. Jay MacIntyre I'd feel presumptuous to call these the greatest films ever, since I have not seen every film ever made. But these are the greatest among my favourites: (revised list, in no particular order) Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) A movie, a world in itself. The Apartment        (Billy Wilder, 1960) Wilder's perfect balance of wit and pathos. L'Avventura        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1960) A great, beautiful, enigmatic journey into the landscape of the soul. West Side Story        (Robert Wise & Jerome Robbins, 1961) The film musical as serious artwork. The Asphalt Jungle        (John Huston, 1950) Three-dimensional characters caught in their own web of human frailty. La Dolce Vita        (Federico Fellini, 1960) Funny, confusing, existential, moving: a microcosm of life in under 3 hours. Midnight Cowboy        (John Schlesinger, 1969) Poeticised urban male bonding. The Last Picture Show        (Peter Bogdanovich, 1971) The transitory nature of every human endeavour and life. The Thin Red Line        (Terrence Malick, 1998) Masterful, poetic meditation on the basic dualities in conflict at the heart of existence. The Red Shoes        (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1949) Almost pure cinema: exhilirating and darkly tragic. Bubbling under: Lonesome Dove (Simon Wincer, 1989); A Bout de Souffle (Jean-Luc Godard, 1959); The Servant (Joseph Losey, 1963); A Star is Born (George Cukor, 1954); This Sporting Life (Lindsay Anderson, 1963); Journal d'un curé de campagne (Robert Bresson, 1950); Nightmare Alley (Edmund Goulding, 1947); The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner (Tony Richardson, 1962); 8½ (Federico Fellini, 1963); Les Quatre cents coups (François Truffaut, 1959). See also Jay's previous list: Mar–Apr 2002 Jay MacIntyre is an occasional film and video reviewer, and musician, in Boston. Peter Nagels (in the order in which they appeared in my mind) The Leopard        (Luchino Visconti, 1963) All That Heaven Allows        (Douglas Sirk, 1955) On Top of the Whale        (Raúl Ruiz, 1982) Paris nous appartient        (Jacques Rivette, 1960) The Passenger        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1975) La Prise de Pouvoir par Louis XIV        (Roberto Rossellini, 1966) History Lessons        (Jean-Marie Straub & Danièle Huillet, 1973) The Power of Emotion        (Alexander Kluge, 1983) Our Man in Havana        (Carol Reed, 1959) L.A. Story        (Mick Jackson, 1991) These films all prove a point, and they keep proving that point every time I see them – that the power of emotion is a film language which simultaneously captures the intellect and the gut. Peter Nagels lives in Melbourne, Australia and is a dream researcher and librarian…in the tradition of Borges. Darragh O'Donoghue (in chronological order) Le Mort qui tue        (Louis Feuillade, 1913) Liebelei        (Max Ophuls, 1933) Meet Me in St. Louis        (Vincente Minnelli, 1944) A Matter of Life and Death        (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1946) Duck Amuck        (Chuck Jones, 1953) Playtime        (Jacques Tati, 1967) Once Upon a Time in the West        (Sergio Leone, 1969) Pakeezah        (Kamal Amrohi, 1971) Histoire(s) du cinéma        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1988–98) Larry David: Curb Your Enthusiasm (HBO special)        (Robert B. Weide, 1999) In order to give the above some illusion of variety, I used the categories found in Film: The Critic's Choice, ed. Geoff Andrew. This has meant losing my favourite films – Tirez sur le pianiste (François Truffaut, 1960); Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958); Funny Face (Stanley Donen, 1957); Smiles of a Summer Night (Ingmar Bergman, 1955), and The Scarlet Empress (Josef Von Sternberg, 1934) – which I think very selfless of me. Darragh O'Donoghue failed to complete his PhD in French Crime Films and Literature. He now works in a Dublin public library. Steve Rybin (in preferential order) 1.  Ma nuit chez Maud        (Eric Rohmer, 1969) 2.  La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939) 3.  Le Mépris        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963) 4.  Early Summer        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1951) 5.  Mean Streets        (Martin Scorsese, 1973) 6.  Taste of Cherry        (Abbas Kiarostami, 1997) 7.  Baisers volés        (François Truffaut, 1968) 8.  The Insider        (Michael Mann, 1999) 9.  L'Atalante        (Jean Vigo, 1934) 10.  Fitzcarraldo        (Werner Herzog, 1982) Steve Rybin is a graduate student in film studies living in Atlanta, GA. Christopher Sharrett (in preferential order) 1.  La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939) 2.  Le Charme Discret de la Bourgeoisie        (Luis Buñuel, 1972) 3.  The Piano Teacher        (Michael Haneke, 2001) 4.  Man of the West        (Anthony Mann, 1958) 5.  Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) 6.  The Reckless Moment        (Max Ophuls, 1949) 7.  Persona        (Ingmar Bergman, 1966) 8.  Heaven's Gate        (Michael Cimino, 1980) 9.  The Texas Chainsaw Massacre        (Tobe Hooper, 1974) 10.  The Wild Bunch        (Sam Peckinpah, 1969) Christopher Sharrett is a Professor of Communication at Seton Hall University. His publications include Mythologies of Violence in Postmodern Media and Crisis Cinema: The Apocalyptic Idea in Postmodern Narrative Film. He is co-editor with Barry Grant of the forthcoming second edition of Planks of Reason: Essays on the Horror Film. Simon Strong (in an incoherent order) La Bête        (Walerian Borowczyk, 1975) After an interesting, uh, “opening segment”, the next sixty minutes is pretty but tedious – then it all goes seriously pear-shaped and gets extremely interesting indeed. Female Vampire        (Jess Franco, 1973) The hottest balustrade scene in cinema history. I saw an amateur composite print of this, with all the director's cut plus the unapproved hardcore inserts. A labour of love. The negatives weren't matched and you could note the provenance of each controversial segment. The hardcore inserts were way murky. Also known as: The Bare Breasted Countess / Les Avaleuses / The Black Countess / Erotic Kill / Insatiable Lust / Jacula / The Last Thrill / The Loves of Irina, etc etc… The Third Man        (Carol Reed, 1949) Any film with sewers in is good – even Marathon Man! Quatermass and the Pit        (Roy Ward Baker, 1967) “Dark…dark…PURPLE!” Hellzapoppin        (H.C. Potter, 1941) Without question, the most fucked-up film ever – a searing demolition of postmodernism. About time too! L'Année dernière à Marienbad        (Alain Resnais, 1962) “seule…avec moi.” 'Nuff sed! Gold Diggers of 1933        (Mervyn LeRoy, 1933) Exactly halfway between fascist spectacle and full-on psychedelia. ACIEEEED HEIL! The Dam Busters        (Michael Anderson, 1954) The scene where Barnes takes of his shoes and wades into the lake after shrapnel is a guaranteed tear-jerker. The Nazis were ultra-dumb for not knowing they were so obviously fucked when we had geezers like him on the team. Plus two films with Jessie Mathews (phwoargh!) transmitted on the ABC at four in the morning coming through da drurg haze in tiny b/w fragments. Don't recall the titles, but one was Friday the Thirteenth (Victor Saville, 1933) – no relation; it was about a bus). Amongst other things, Simon Strong is an experimental novelist (A259 Multiplex Bomb “Outrage”, Rape vs. Murder, Fuckronomicon) and singer with avant-mod outfit The Pink Stainless Tail. You can check out his website. George Taylor (in preferential order) Gummo        (Harmony Korine, 1997) Days of Heaven        (Terrence Malick, 1978) Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966) Asthenic Syndrome        (Kira Muratova, 1989) A Woman Under the Influence        (John Cassavetes, 1974) Naked        (Mike Leigh, 1993) Je vous salue, Marie        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1984) Forty Guns        (Samuel Fuller, 1957) La Passion de Jeanne D'Arc        (Carl Dreyer, 1928) Ludwig        (Luchino Visconti, 1972) The list is perpetually, tortuously winding around my memory; flashes of passions conjoined with my lying prostrate before a television screen (I'm sure every cinephile is aware of the necessity of correct positioning of one's body when watching a video copy of a film which they thought they would never see). This top ten will change tomorrow, and the days and weeks after will bring about multifarious combinations of innumerable films. But let this record how I felt, at this moment, on this day (Thursday, March 5, 2004). George Taylor is a 20-year-old fella, living in Edinburgh, Scotland. His cinephilia is matched with similar obssessions in literature, art and music. He is a practicing filmmaker, writer, peripatetic daydreamer; of note, he runs the near-legendary “Fast” club, the city's premier punk, garage, rock'n'roll nite. Josh Timmermann (in preferential order) 1.  Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941) 2.  2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) 3.  Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927) 4.  La Passion de Jeanne D'Arc        (Carl Dreyer, 1928) 5.  Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) 6.  Taste of Cherry        (Abbas Kiarostami, 1997) 7.  L'Avventura        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1960) 8.  Sátántangó        (Béla Tarr, 1994) 9.  Russian Ark        (Aleksandr Sokurov, 2002) 10.  Days of Heaven        (Terrence Malick, 1978) Yes, I realise that naming Citizen Kane the Best Movie Ever is something of a cliche at this point. But I've concluded that it's consistently cited as such for the same reason that Shakespeare is recognised as the greatest playwright in the English language, or Joyce's Ulysses as the 20th's finest novel, or The Beatles as the quintessential group of the pop era. Because it's The Truth – or, rather, as much of a “truth” as we're likely to come across when discussing something as inherently subjective as art. Plus, I've seen it probably six dozen or so times now and it hasn't yet gotten even remotely old; I still manage to notice new things that only add to my appreciation of it. Russian Ark and Sátántangó are the most recent additions to my list. The former knocked me flat on my ass as a technical tour de force, while simultaneously prompting me to reflect meaningfully on the nature of art and history and time and, you know, all that cal. The latter is no less singular an achievement. Sokurov's film is a 96-minute tracking shot, initially startling for its lack of editing. Tarr's, on the other hand, is a seven-and-a-half hour pitch-black comedy that demands even more from its audience. One simply does not watch a film that runs just shy of a third of a day the same way one watches your average 90–120 minute movie. Utterly unique in its rhythms and its bleak atmosphere, Sátántangó sucks you in like a sort of filmic vaccuum. Josh Timmermann is a movie reviewer at Stylus Magazine, and also contributes to Cinescene. Ryan Wells (in preferential order) 1.  Sunset Boulevard        (Billy Wilder, 1950) Is there any film which deals with elders/outcasts in a “young and hip” society any better? 2.  Manhattan        (Woody Allen, 1979) My favourite comedy and best shot film. Thank you, Gordon Willis. God… Love those long shots. 3.  Persona        (Ingmar Bergman, 1966) My favourite self-evaluating film. 4.  The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser        (Werner Herzog, 1974) My favourite film dealing with forced religion. 5.  Nashville        (Robert Altman, 1975) My favourite film to deal with American society in a sweetly grotesque manner. 6.  The Hours        (Stephen Daldry, 2002) My favourite film of recent years. Forget that it's mainstream, my cinephile friends. This film is truly a work of pure minimalism and poetry. 7.  The Miracle of Morgan's Creek        (Preston Sturges, 1944) Truly an overlooked masterpiece. What film easily satirises the Christ story more than this? With names like Trudy Kockenlocker and Ignats Ratskiwaksky, you know you're watching something wonderful. The spots!! 8.  Weekend        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1967) How I laughed over the bourgeois couple. With her husband burning from a car wreck, the bourgeois wife is screaming "My Hermes handbag"!, to Emily Bronte being set on fire. This is hell on earth. 9.  Cries and Whispers        (Ingmar Bergman, 1972) No film has ever attempted to show the need for love, and the falsities we bring one another in the times of need, like this one. 10.  La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939) Must there be a reason? The films I have selected for my top ten are basically perfectly shot films in their own right. Cinematography, in my opinion, is the true art in film, and should not be overlooked. Also, love, death/afterlife, patriotism and the need to know thy self are issues all of us deal with everyday in our minds. These films are not entertainment (well, 7 and 8 are quite a riot), but reflections of our soul: the social and personal versions. Ryan Wells is a 19-year-old film buff attempting to find the true meaning of life through art. (Think of Woody Allen in Hannah and Her Sisters). Hey, it's free psychiatry sessions. He is also a junior at the University of Florida, majoring in English, with an emphasis in Critical Theory, and also in Classical Studies. Why? Well, English departments are where the Philosophy is.

TALLY at April–June 2004, after 419 original lists, 57 revised lists, and 4 deleted lists: By film: Citizen Kane  1.  2.  3.  4.  5.  6.  9. 10. Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) 2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941) La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939) Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927) Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976) 8½        (Federico Fellini, 1963) Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966) The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956) 84 49 47 36 33 31 31 31 29 27 By director: Stanley Kubrick  1.  2.  3.  4.  5.  6.  7.  8.  9. Alfred Hitchcock Jean-Luc Godard Orson Welles Stanley Kubrick Robert Bresson Ingmar Bergman Martin Scorsese Andrei Tarkovsky Akira Kurosawa Carl Dreyer 153 106 102 101   86   83   82   79   70   70   back to the top of the page

January–March 2004:   Marcelo Arias John T. Babcock Aleksandar Becanovic Stephen Brower Nick Cai Louise Cole Brian Darr Jignesh Gorasia Alexander Greenhough   revised list Ernest Haines, Jr.   revised list Tally: Jan–Mar 2004 Julian Hoeber Josh Mabe   revised list Lou Mandarini Mario Naito George Papadopoulos   revised list Richard Partridge Arne Scheuermann David Shemtov Susana Souto Erik Ulman   revised list Robert von Dassanowsky

Marcelo Arias I have just read the top ten directors list, and I have to say I am a little bit surprised and disappointed. Of course I agree with the presence of master filmmakers such as Alfred Hitchcock, Orson Welles, Robert Bresson, Andrei Tarkovsky and Carl Dreyer. However, I can't understand how Stanley Kubrick (from my point of view, one of the most overestimated directors in history of filmmaking) and Martin Scorsese are in third and seventh position respectively. And it's a shame that none of Jean Renoir, John Ford and Federico Fellini (maybe the greatest poets of cinema) are included in that list. I would prefer to see François Truffaut instead of Jean-Luc Godard and I would also argue that Yasujiro Ozu or Kenji Mizoguchi are more significant directors than Akira Kurosawa. Anyway, not everybody can think the same way about cinema (otherwise it would be very boring), and that's precisely what makes these lists so enjoyable: the possibility that each cinephile can make his own list, according to his own personal preferences, perception of films and vision of human being and the world. (in chronological order) Sherlock, Jr.        (Buster Keaton, 1924) Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927) La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939) The Magnificent Ambersons        (Orson Welles, 1942) Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) Les Quatre cents coups        (François Truffaut, 1959) Pickpocket        (Robert Bresson, 1959) The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance        (John Ford, 1962) 8½        (Federico Fellini, 1963) I can think of a lot of films that could have been in that list, but according to the rules and with great pity I can only mention these five: La Grand Illusion (Jean Renoir, 1937); Letter From an Unknown Woman (Max Ophuls, 1948); The Searchers (John Ford, 1956); Touch of Evil (Orson Welles, 1958), and The Last Picture Show (Peter Bogdanovich, 1971), and it kills me not to mention How Green Was My Valley (well, somehow I have). Note: I have deliberately excluded Citizen Kane because it's a fact that it will be included in the final list, and perhaps in first place as in almost every other list made until now. Marcelo Arias is a 29 year old film lover with aspirations to write about film, and lives in Uruguay. He recently attended a film criticism program at the Cinemateca Uruguaya, and contributed some articles to the 2002 Montevideo Film Festival catalogue. John T. Babcock (in no particular order) Dreams That Money Can Buy        (Hans Richter, 1947) Tabu        (F.W. Murnau, 1930) The Pillow Book        (Peter Greenaway, 1995) La Coquille et le Clergyman        (Germaine Dulac, 1927) 8½        (Federico Fellini, 1963) Meshes of the Afternoon        (Maya Deren, 1943) Orphée        (Jean Cocteau, 1950) Mothlight        (Stan Brakhage, 1963) The Man With a Movie Camera        (Dziga Vertov, 1928) Dead Man        (Jim Jarmusch, 1995) What is frustrating about a list of this sort is that if I were to put one together the day after tomorrow, it would look considerably different. John T. Babcock currently resides in Los Angeles where he dabbles in cinematic experimentation. Aleksandar Becanovic (in preferential order) 1.  The Exorcist        (William Friedkin, 1973) 2.  Halloween        (John Carpenter, 1978) 3.  Bringing Up Baby        (Howard Hawks, 1938) 4.  Rio Bravo        (Howard Hawks, 1959) 5.  Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927) 6.  Ordet        (Carl Dreyer, 1954) 7.  Only Angels Have Wings        (Howard Hawks, 1939) 8.  Vampyr        (Carl Dreyer, 1932) 9.  It's a Wonderful Life        (Frank Capra, 1946) 10.  Triumph of the Will        (Leni Riefenstahl, 1934) Honourable mentions: Nosferatu (F.W. Murnau, 1922); Marnie (Alfred Hitchcock, 1964); Il Conformista (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1969); Breaking the Waves (Lars von Trier, 1996); Le Mépris (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963); The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Tobe Hooper, 1974). Aleksandar Becanovic (1971) is a Montenegrin writer and film critic. Stephen Brower Here is my top ten as of now (it's constanly changing but I'm willing to go with this...) (in preferential order) 1.  Badlands        (Terrence Malick, 1973) 2.  Brief Encounter        (David Lean, 1945) 3.  Rio Bravo        (Howard Hawks, 1959) 4.  Manhattan        (Woody Allen, 1979) 5.  Les Bonnes femmes        (Claude Chabrol, 1960) 6.  Lawrence of Arabia        (David Lean, 1962) 7.  The Asphalt Jungle        (John Huston, 1950) 8.  Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976) 9.  Blow-Up        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1966) 10.  L'Amour l'après-midi        (Eric Rohmer, 1972) Special Mention for five more: Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953); Summertime (David Lean, 1955); 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968); La Notte (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1961); The Searchers (John Ford, 1956). Stephen Brower works in Sales & Marketing for Vanguard and Sugar Hill Records in Santa Monica, CA. In his spare time he writes film and music articles for clinkmagazine.com. Nick Cai Conforming with most users, I distressingly limited myself to one title per director/auteur. (in alphabetical, not preferential, order, as it varies like the wind) A.I. Artificial Intelligence        (Steven Spielberg, 2001) A Clockwork Orange        (Stanley Kubrick, 1971) Dekalog        (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1988) In the Mood for Love        (Wong Kar-wai, 2000) Field of Dreams        (Phil Alden Robinson, 1989) Once Upon a Time in America        (Sergio Leone, 1984) Ran        (Akira Kurosawa, 1985) Rear Window        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1954) Swordsman II        (Ching Siu-tung, 1992) Yi yi: A One and a Two        (Edward Yang, 2000) Was the 1970s really the golden decade for cinema? Undoubtedly, each decade has its own series of stand-outs. Perhaps by my revision next year, a fantasy trilogy will have been included as another personal stand-out for the 2000s. Regrettably, some great filmmakers missed my cut this time around, including Atom Egoyan, David Fincher, Yasujiro Ozu, Andrei Tarkovsky and Zhang Yimou. See also Nick's revised list: Jul–Sept 2005 Nick Cai is a movie fan in California. Louise Cole Limiting to 10 is really, really difficult, but here are my choices: (in no particular order) Gone with the Wind        (Victor Fleming, 1939) Laura        (Otto Preminger, 1944) Women in Love        (Ken Russell, 1969) An American in Paris        (Vincente Minnelli, 1951) Napoléon        (Abel Gance, 1927) Black Narcissus        (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger, 1947) Queen Christina        (Rouben Mamoulian, 1933) Intolerance        (D.W. Griffith, 1916) West Side Story        (Robert Wise & Jerome Robbins, 1961) Brief Encounter        (David Lean, 1945) The five which just float outside these ten would be: A Star is Born (George Cukor, 1954); The Lodger (John Brahm, 1944); Peach O'Reno (William A Seiter, 1931); The Bride of Frankenstein (James Whale, 1935), and La Passion de Jeanne D'Arc (Carl Dreyer, 1928). Louise Cole is a poet, librarian and film fanatic living in Leeds. Her recent creative work has been based around 1910–1960 American and British films. Brian Darr (films listed in a reverse chronology; most-recently-seen first) Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) Though it has become a symbol of my city and of cinema itself, it is most of all an incredible audiovisual experience, one that only improves each time it's relived. Late Autumn        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1960) I could choose almost any one of many recently seen Ozu films, but I picked this one for its warm humour. Videodrome        (David Cronenberg, 1982) Perhaps the ultimate film to explore the role of the moving image in our society. Fox and His Friends        (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1975) 2003 was the year I finally found Fassbinder. Needless to say, I liked what I found. Carrie        (Brian De Palma, 1976) This film must be seen with an audience, preferably at midnight. La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939) All of life compressed into less than two hours. Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927) Arguably the pinnacle of an entire artform, the talking picture being something else again. Playtime        (Jacques Tati, 1967) Simultaneously the greatest celebration of observation, and a banana peel under the foot of modernity and conformity. Voyage à travers l'impossible        (Georges Méliès, 1904) Watching a little miracle like this almost makes me rue the invention of the feature film. The Wind Will Carry Us        (Abbas Kiarostami, 1999) Is cinema really worthwhile? The audience may think so, but film's makers or subjects might disagree, as this film helps to illustrate. Runners-up: La Jetée (Chris Marker, 1962); Minnie the Moocher (Dave Fleischer, 1932); The Crowd (King Vidor, 1928); Peppermint Candy (Lee Chang-dong, 2000); Andrei Rublev (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1966). Brian Darr was born in San Francisco 30 years ago, and he wonders if he'll ever leave while the repertory theatres are still releasing new calendars. Jignesh Gorasia 1.  Jules et Jim        (François Truffaut, 1962) 2.  Cinema Paradiso        (Guiseppe Tornatore, 1989) 3.  Rashomon        (Akira Kurosawa, 1950) 4.  Cet obscur objet du désir        (Luis Buñuel, 1977) 5.  One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest        (Milos Forman, 1975) (and then in no particular order) Wild Strawberries        (Ingmar Bergman, 1957) Ran        (Akira Kurosawa, 1985) American Beauty        (Sam Mendes, 1999) Amores Perros        (Alejandro González Iñárritu, 2000) Rosemary's Baby        (Roman Polanski, 1968) Honourable mentions: Easy Rider (Dennis Hopper, 1969); Picnic at Hanging Rock (Peter Weir, 1975); Amadeus (Milos Forman, 1984); A Clockwork Orange (Stanley Kubrick, 1971). Jignesh Gorasia is 28, an ardent film fan, and works as a business analyst in Pune, India. Alexander Greenhough (2nd revised list, in no particular order) Playtime        (Jacques Tati, 1967) The General        (Buster Keaton/Clyde Bruckman, 1926) Whatever        (Susan Skoog, 1998) By the Law        (Lev Kuleshov, 1926) Like Grains of Sand        (Ryosuke Hashiguchi, 1995) Lapis        (James Whitney, 1963–66) Les Parapluies de Cherbourg        (Jacques Demy, 1964) Wavelength        (Michael Snow, 1966–67) The Devil at Your Heels        (Robert Fortier, 1981) Sherman's March        (Ross McElwee, 1986) See also Alexander's previous lists: Sept–Oct 2001       Jul–Aug 2002 [Alexander Greenhough is a filmmaker and graduate student living in Atlanta, Georgia. Ernest Haines, Jr. (revised list, in alphabetical order) The Asphalt Jungle        (John Huston, 1950) One of the great American films of the '50s, full of great performances, with a suitably poetic ending. Branded to Kill        (Seijun Suzuki, 1967) Featuring a hitman who only gets aroused by the smell of rice. No wonder this got Suzuki fired by the studio. I am Cuba        (Mikhail Kalatozov, 1964) The quintessence of formalist error. In the Mood for Love        (Wong Kar-wai, 2000) Film of the decade (so far). The Killing of a Chinese Bookie        (John Cassavetes, 1976) Ben Gazzara at his best as a would-be prince of the L.A. demimonde. Bizarre, beautiful. Late Spring        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1949) If your heart doesn't break when Setsuko Hara bows before her father on her wedding day, you don't deserve to watch Ozu's films. Le Mépris        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963) A love letter to Bardot and Cinema, before the agitprop set in. My Darling Clementine        (John Ford, 1946) Poetic masterpiece by one of the pioneers, with Victor Mature's great performance. Ratcatcher        (Lynne Ramsay, 1999) In the slums of late '60s Scotland, even a family's evident love for one another can't overcome all. And there's Kenny. Stroszek        (Werner Herzog, 1977) The flipside of Hollywood-lite like Moscow on the Hudson. See also Ernest's previous list: Nov 2002 Ernest Haines is a filmlover living in San Jose, California. Julian Hoeber (in no particular order) Husbands        (John Cassavetes, 1970) In a Lonely Place        (Nicholas Ray, 1950) Mean Streets        (Martin Scorsese, 1973) The Red and the White        (Miklós Jancsó, 1967) How Green Was My Valley        (John Ford, 1941) 2 ou 3 choses que je sais d'elle        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1966) Homework        (Abbas Kiarostami, 1990) Too Early, Too Late        (Jean-Marie Straub & Danièle Huillet, 1981) The Cobweb        (Vincente Minnelli, 1955) Death Game        (Peter S. Traynor, 1977) Unfortunately, I haven't included anything made in the last 10 years; many more recent films would make a top 50 list. I would also include Takeshi Kitano, Wong Kar-wai, Herschell Gordon-Lewis, Jean Renoir, Fritz Lang and Jerry Lewis. The last film I've listed is rather unknown, and probably seems out of place to those who do know it, but I will defend it endlessly as one of the great films to make you feel bad about humanity. Julian Hoeber is an artist and film maker living in Los Angeles. Josh Mabe (revised list, in preferential order) 1.  Anticipation of the Night        (Stan Brakhage, 1958) 2.  Van Gogh        (Maurice Pialat, 1991) 3.  Killer of Sheep        (Charles Burnett, 1977) 4.  Star Spangled to Death        (Ken Jacobs, 1957–2003) 5.  The Visitation        (Nathaniel Dorsky, 2002) 6.  Six O'Clock News        (Ross McElwee, 1996) 7.  LMNO        (Robert Breer, 1978) 8.  Where is the Friend's House?        (Abbas Kiarostami, 1987) 9.  In a Year of 13 Moons        (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1978) 10.  God's Step Children        (Oscar Micheaux, 1938) Plus all the African, Eastern European, Indian, John Ford, Nick Dorsky and King Hu films I've never seen. See also Josh's previous list: Jul–Aug 2002 Josh Mabe is from South Carolina. Lou Mandarini (in no particular order) Ninotchka        (Ernst Lubitsch, 1939) This is a hilarious and wonderful romantic comedy that savages early Communism. Greta Garbo is resplendent. Notorious        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1946) Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman make one of the most remarkable couples ever, and Hitchcock hits his high water mark with this quicksilver spy film. Boy, that ending! La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939) This is probably the film I enjoy the most on this list and can watch anytime – a razor-sharp skewering of social class and the pomposity of the gentry. The Grapes of Wrath        (John Ford, 1940) This is a deeply touching story of class conflict in which one man's awakening to economic injustice is depicted with style and grace. Blow-Up        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1966) This is an arresting, but deeply disturbing film about boredom and desperation and how they colour relationships. A terrific Vanessa Redgrave performance graces this one. Contes des quatres saisons        (Eric Rohmer, 1990, 92, 96, 98) These four films, which must be taken as one unit, are simplistic, human stories of love and loss, yet each is remarkably moving. In particular, Conte d'hiver and Conte d'automne are spectacular. The Leopard        (Luchino Visconti, 1963) This is a grand epic about Sicilian gentry that has a sweep and dignity like few films, and it features probably Burt Lancaster's best performance. The Third Man        (Carol Reed, 1949) This is a terrific portrayal of crime and deceit in post-World War II Vienna that features an evil and brilliant performance by Orson Welles. McCabe & Mrs. Miller        (Robert Altman, 1971) This is one of the best American films of any era, which centres on a prostitution business run by gambler Warren Beatty and madam Julie Christie. This film features Altman's trademark overlapping dialogue, as well as cinematography that makes the frontier setting come across every bit as cold, dark, wet and unwelcoming as it's supposed to be. A Film Trilogy        (Ingmar Bergman, 1961–1963) By any estimation, The Silence, Winter Light and Through a Glass Darkly are some of the most intense, emotional films about spirituality (and the loss of it) ever to issue forth from the medium. Tremendous work. In addition to working for the Massachusetts AFL-CIO, Lou Mandarini is a writer. Mario Naito (in preferential order) 1.  Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941) 2.  Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927) 3.  8½        (Federico Fellini, 1963) 4.  Andrei Rublev        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1966) 5.  Wild Strawberries        (Ingmar Bergman, 1957) 6.  Pather Panchali        (Satyajit Ray, 1955) 7.  Modern Times        (Charles Chaplin, 1936) 8.  Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) 9.  2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) 10.  Olympia        (Leni Riefenstahl, 1938) I would like to have also included: The Navigator (Buster Keaton & Donald Crisp, 1924); Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953); L'Avventura (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1960); La Passion de Jeanne D'Arc (Carl Dreyer, 1928); Ladri di Biciclette (Vittorio de Sica, 1948); Battleship Potemkim (Sergei Eisenstein, 1925); Stagecoach (John Ford, 1939), and Ugetsu Monogatari (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1953) as runners-up. Mario Naito is a specialist in American and European Cinema at Cinemateca de Cuba who has published movie articles and reviews in Cuban magazines and has collaborated weekly in a radio program about movies since 1991. George Papadopoulos (2nd revised list, in preferential order) 1.  Once Upon a Time in America        (Sergio Leone, 1984) 2.  Manhattan        (Woody Allen, 1979) 3.  The Age of Innocence        (Martin Scorsese, 1993) 4.  The Royal Tenenbaums        (Wes Anderson, 2001) 5.  Jackie Brown        (Quentin Tarantino, 1997) 6.  Letter from an Unknown Woman        (Max Ophuls, 1948) 7.  Notorious        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1946) 8.  Once Upon a Time in the West        (Sergio Leone, 1969) 9.  Irréversible        (Gaspar Noé, 2002) 10.  In the Bedroom        (Todd Field, 2001) See also George's previous lists: Feb 2000       Sept–Oct 2000 George Papadopoulos is the General Manager of independent film distributor Accent Film Entertainment, who are releasing Gaspar Noé's Irreversible and Matthew Barney's The Cremaster Cycle in February 2004. Richard Partridge (in chronological order) Nosferatu        (F.W. Murnau, 1922) The greatest silent ever made. Murnau dredges up everything but the kitchen sink to put across his personal nightmare from Bram Stoker's novel Dracula, and it works! 42nd Street        (Lloyd Bacon, 1933) Zips along like a classic Warner Bros. cartoon. Sexy, cynical as all hell and as entertaining today as the day it came out. Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941) Welles' first. His first fucking movie! Jesus! The Heiress        (William Wyler, 1949) Ralph Richardson's performance here is awe-inspiring. A subtle, psychological masterpiece that always seems to go unnoticed. Seven Samurai        (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) The first time I saw this I was expecting to see a story about seven "super heroes". Boy, was I wrong! These samurai are all too human, and this epic devastating. The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956) John Ford in majestic and magical control of his craft. Even Natalie Wood couldn't fuck this classic up! Incredible Shrinking Man        (Jack Arnold, 1957) The greatest ending I've ever seen to a film. The combination of words and images do more to create a sense of wonder than anything in 2001: A Space Odyssey. Psycho        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960) Hitchcock and Bernard Herrmann's score pierce the viewer like a kitchen knife in what amounts to an incredibly angry piece of art. Targets        (Peter Bogdanovich, 1968) If only for the greatest use of a drive-in theatre in a movie, this makes my list. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre        (Tobe Hooper, 1974) Amazing to me every time I view it, it's hard to fathom why Hooper wasn't satisfied just to make The Scariest Movie of All Time (which he did), but also a work of grisly, grungy art. Richard Partridge is the publisher of the film zine Fantasy Pie, and has been addicted to film since viewing Dr. No (Terence Young, 1962) at Waltham, Massachusetts' original Embassy Theater with his aunt Ada, who whispered "that's not real" in the dark. Arne Scheuermann (in chronological order) The Oyster Princess        (short, Ernst Lubitsch, 1919) Menschen am Sonntag        (Robert Siodmak & Edgar G. Ulmer, 1929) Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) La Jetée        (short, Chris Marker, 1962) Manhattan        (Woody Allen, 1979) Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid        (Carl Reiner, 1982) Drowning by Numbers        (Peter Greenaway, 1988) Dekalog        (series, Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1988) Home        (short, Morag McKinnon, 1998) The Royal Tenenbaums        (Wes Anderson, 2001) My Top Ten list includes only a few short films but could consist totally of them – just watch the work of Maya Deren, Lucy Lehmann, Jonas Mekas, Marie Menken and the great John Smith (!) whenever you can. Arne Scheuermann is a writer and filmmaker and teaches film studies at the University of Wuppertal. He lives in Cologne, Germany. David Shemtov (in no particular order) The Passenger        (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1975) Mirror        (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1974) L'Argent        (Robert Bresson, 1983) Vagabond        (Agnès Varda, 1985) Battleship Potemkin        (Sergei Eisenstein, 1925) Taste of Cherry        (Abbas Kiarostami, 1997) Shadows of Our Forgotten Ancestors        (Sergei Parajanov, 1964) Ulysses' Gaze        (Theo Angelopoulos, 1995) Memories of Underdevelopment        (Tomás Gutiérrez Alea, 1968) Eyes Wide Shut        (Stanley Kubrick, 1999) Creating this list was like pulling teeth. There are so many great films and filmmakers that I had to forgo. Also, I made myself a rule to only have one film per director. This list can never be complete without Ozu, Dreyer, Hou Hsiao-hsien, Satyajit Ray and of course GODard. With only 10 films I finally decided to go with my most immediate choices since I figured there is a good reason why they came to me first. Some of these choices I've only seen once and others, multiple times. An avid film buff hailing from New York, David Shemtov is 25 years old and a film production major in Brooklyn College. Susana Souto (in chronological order) Bitter Tea of General Yen        (Frank Capra, 1933) How Green Was My Valley        (John Ford, 1941) Casablanca        (Michael Curtiz, 1942) The Magnificent Ambersons        (Orson Welles, 1942) Notorious        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1946) Les Quatre cents coups        (François Truffaut, 1959) The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance        (John Ford, 1962) 8½        (Federico Fellini, 1963) Playtime        (Jacques Tati, 1967) La Femme d'à côté        (François Truffaut, 1981) Other films that could have been in that list: La Grande Illusion (Jean Renoir, 1937); Journal d'un curé de campagne (Robert Bresson, 1950); Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953); Wild Strawberries (Ingmar Bergman, 1957), and Dersu Uzala (Akira Kurosawa, 1974). Susana Souto is a 60 year old retired woman from Montevideo, Uruguay, who discovered the pleasures of cinema at the age of 16 by watching movies with her best old friends. Fortunately, her son inherited this taste for cinema and now both are used to watching movies every time they can. Erik Ulman My list changes continually. But these 10 films seem unavoidable at the moment: (3rd revised list, in more or less chronological order) Intolerance        (D.W. Griffith, 1916) The Night of the Hunter        (Charles Laughton, 1955) Muriel        (Alain Resnais, 1963) Dog Star Man        (Stan Brakhage, 1962–64) Gertrud        (Carl Dreyer, 1964) Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome        (Kenneth Anger, 1954–66) 2 ou 3 choses que je sais d'elle        (Jean-Luc Godard, 1966) Celine et Julie Vont en Bateau        (Jacques Rivette, 1974) Moses und Aron        (Jean-Marie Straub & Danièle Huillet, 1975) Sans soleil        (Chris Marker, 1982) For the permitted five extras, let's say: The Scarlet Empress (Josef von Sternberg, 1934); La Règle du jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939); Stromboli (Roberto Rossellini, 1949); The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (John Ford, 1962), and Persona (Ingmar Bergman, 1966), although that still leaves out far too much (am I allowed to regret the absence of Hawks and Bresson and Murnau and Stroheim and Mizoguchi and...?). Suffice it to say that the above films grow ever richer on repeated viewing, and seem to represent among them something approaching the range of possibilities available to the cinema. Certainly all are formally inexhaustibly inventive, and fuse this invention with equally intense and complex content. See also Erik's previous lists: Sept–Oct 2000       Apr–May 2001       May–June 2002 Erik Ulman is currently a visiting professor of music at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. Robert von Dassanowsky (in no particular order) The Damned        (Luchino Visconti, 1969) Leise flehen meine Lieder        (Willi Forst, 1933) The Day of the Locust        (John Schlesinger, 1975) The Seventh Seal        (Ingmar Bergman, 1957) Olympia        (Leni Riefenstahl, 1938) Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941) Metropolis        (Fritz Lang, 1926) 8½        (Federico Fellini, 1963) Der Engel mit der Posaune        (Karl Hartl, 1948) Fight Club        (David Fincher, 1999) Honourable mention to: Dr. Strangelove (Stanley Kubrick, 1963); Hiroshima mon amour (Alain Resnais, 1959); Casablanca (Michael Curtiz, 1942); Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958); The Third Man (Carol Reed, 1949). Robert von Dassanowsky is Associate Professor and Director of Film Studies at the University of Colorado, Colorado Springs. He is co-founding VP of the Austrian American Film Association (AAFA), a columnist for Celluloid (Vienna) and an independent producer.

TALLY at January–March 2004, after 399 original lists, 54 revised lists, and 4 deleted lists: By film: 2001: A Space Odyssey  1.  2.  3.  4.  5.  6.  7.  9. Vertigo        (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) 2001: A Space Odyssey        (Stanley Kubrick, 1968) Citizen Kane        (Orson Welles, 1941) La Règle du jeu        (Jean Renoir, 1939) Sunrise        (F.W. Murnau, 1927) Taxi Driver        (Martin Scorsese, 1976) 8½        Federico Fellini, 1963 Tokyo Story        (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953) The Searchers        (John Ford, 1956) Au Hasard, Balthazar        (Robert Bresson, 1966) 83 48 45 33 32 30 29 29 27 27 By director: Carl Dreyer  1.  2.  3.  4.  5.  6.  8.  9. Alfred Hitchcock Orson Welles Stanley Kubrick Jean-Luc Godard Robert Bresson Andrei Tarkovsky Martin Scorsese Ingmar Bergman Akira Kurosawa Carl Dreyer 150 100   99   97   82   76   76   73   65   65   back to the top of the page

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