Browsed by
Category: Blogroll

Reflections on Must-See Films From 1964

Reflections on Must-See Films From 1964

It’s time for another reflection on a particular year in cinema! So far I’ve shared my thoughts on must-see titles from 1960, 1961, 1962, and 1963 — and now I’m done reviewing all titles from 1964. While there were certainly some cheery escapist flicks released that year — Mary Poppins, anyone? — darkness pervaded in powerful cinematic depictions of politics, war, plague, racism, romantic loss, and more.

“If a god of love and life ever did exist… he is long since dead.”
  • Out of 79 total titles from 1964, I voted 33 – or 42% – as must see. Not many are foreign (non-American) titles; I count only eight, with one French (The Umbrellas of Cherbourg), one Armenian (Shadows of Our Forgotten Ancestors), four British, and two Japanese.
  • Of the latter, Hiroshi Teshigahara’s Woman in the Dunes — about a man and woman who “form an unexpectedly sweet bond of captivity, supporting one another through work, companionship, and sensual connection” — remains “a one-of-a-kind masterpiece from mid-20th century Japanese cinema,” and is well worth a look if you haven’t yet seen it.
  • Of the four British titles, Richard Lester’s A Hard Day’s Night stands above the crowd as a cult favorite which hasn’t dated in the slightest. While “the young Beatles’ infectious enthusiasm for life and music… is the biggest draw by far,” “I also love the sly supporting performances…; the ‘mod’ sets; the consistently creative camera moves and angles; and the wonderful subplot provided to ‘poor Ringo’.”
  • Speaking of cult titles, I revisited and wrote my review of Roger Corman’s The Masque of the Red Death in March of 2020, pointing out at the time that this “film about an evil nobleman and his willing compatriots denying refuge to plaintive villagers provides a potent cautionary tale about the need to continuously support one another through the hardest of times, across all boundaries: social, economic, racial, and religious.”
  • Political thrillers were dominant in 1964 cinema. John Frankenheimer’s Seven Days in May — with a script by Ray Sterling — remains freakily relevant to current politics, reminding us that “when a group of individuals is convinced they’re right and the well-being of their nation is at risk, we know they will stop at nothing.”
  • Meanwhile, Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb deserves its continued status as a classic favorite, with tour-de-force performances by Peter Sellers (as Group Captain Lionel Mandrake, President Merkin Muffley, and Dr. Strangelove) and memorable turns by both Sterling Hayden and George C. Scott in key supporting roles.
  • As a more serious counterpart to Dr. Strangelove, Sidney Lumet’s nuclear thriller Fail Safe — featuring stand-out performances by Henry Fonda and Larry Hagman — creates and maintains “tension across the various inter-connected spheres of the storyline (primarily the president’s office, the War Room, and the pilots’ cockpit),” and “is a literal nailbiter in terms of what will come next, with nothing less than the fate of our planet in the balance.”
  • Emile De Antonio’s political documentary Point of Order rounds things out politically by “taking more than 180 hours of television footage from the 1954 Army-McCarthy hearings” and providing a “fascinating glimpse at the crash and burn of America’s most infamous ‘Commie witch hunter,'” Senator Joe McCarthy.
  • In addition to Seven Days in May, John Frankenheimer and Burt Lancaster teamed up that year for The Train. True to its title, it’s “set almost entirely in, on, or around trains” and tells a gripping cat-and-mouse tale involving priceless art being shipped away for safety during World War II. As I note in my review, “With no models used (all action was real), the film possesses a consistently heady air of real-life danger, with one expertly filmed action sequence after the other.”
  • Nothing But a Man was the best of the race-related films to emerge in 1964. As I note in my review, “By telling the story of ‘everyman’ Duff Anderson (Ivan Dixon), we see what occurs when a person is unable to secure reasonably paid work that allows them to maintain dignity and self-respect.” While it’s “undeniably rough to watch,” this docudrama “remains a powerful neo-realist depiction of Black Southern communities in the 1960s.”
  • Sergio Leone’s seminal “spaghetti western” A Fistful of Dollars brought us Clint Eastwood with a cheroot and poncho, a “highly distinctive score” by Ennio Morricone, and an odd sense of déjà vu for anyone who’s seen Kurosawa’s Yojimbo (which it copied from heavily while building up a strong mythos of its own).
  • I have a couple of personal cult favorites from this year. One is George Roy Hill’s The World of Henry Orient, a delightful dark comedy featuring “a marvelously droll turn by Peter Sellers” (it was a good year for him!) and “sparkling performances by its two unknown leads (Merrie Spaeth and Tippy Walker),” who perfectly capture “the hyper compulsion of teenage female friendship.”

    The other is Viva Las Vegas (Elvis Presley finally met his on-screen match in Ann-Margret!), which is “directed with flair by George Sidney and featur[es] vivid sets and costumes, rousing song-and-dance numbers, nice use of Vegas locales, and a super-fun romantic rivalry (with plenty of genuine sparks flying).”
  • Speaking of personal favorites, I was very pleasantly surprised to revisit Cary Grant and Leslie Caron in Father Goose, an enjoyable romantic comedy which “goes in surprisingly delightful and quirky directions.” Watch for “numerous memorable moments, both humorous and frightening,” with interplay between the two providing “much authentic tension.”
  • John Huston’s The Night of the Iguana — based on a Tennessee Williams play — features a storyline that “merits nearly endless discussion and debate,” “crisp and gorgeous” cinematography by Gabriel Figueroa, inspired location sets (in Mexico), and “top-notch” performances across the board” — including from Richard Burton, Ava Gardner, Deborah Kerr, Grayson Hall, and Sue Lyons.
  • Speaking of such luminaries, there were numerous standout female performances in 1964 — including from Ann-Margret as Jodi in a Kitten With a Whip; Joan Crawford in William Castle’s Strait-Jacket; and Tippi Hedren in Hitchcock’s Marnie.


As always, happy viewing!

Reflections on Must-See Films From 1963

Reflections on Must-See Films From 1963

Given that Peary lambastes 1963 in his Alternate Oscars as a cinematic year unworthy of any Best Picture contenders, I was curious to take a look at how many titles from this year struck a chord with me — and was pleasantly surprised to see that quite a few are worth mentioning. Out of 74 total titles, I voted 32 — or ~43% — as must-see; here are just a few. (We’re seeing a lot more color than in 1962, btw.)

“It is mankind… who insists upon making it difficult for life to exist upon this planet.”
  • Numbers wise, only six of the 32 titles are in a language other than English: one in Japanese (Kurosawa’s High and Low), three in Italian (Fellini’s 8 1/2, Mario Monicelli’s The Organizer, and Vittorio de Sica’s Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow), and two in Spanish — including the powerful Spanish documentary To Die in Madrid.
  • Several are British — including Peter Brook’s adaptation of William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, made with an unusual amount of creative leeway and resulting in “an appropriately terrifying tale about leadership (or lack thereof) run amok.”
  • I’m also a fan of Joseph Losey’s creepy The Servant — featuring shadowy cinematography by Douglas Slocombe and starring Dirk Bogarde as “a calculating and unflappable servant-for-hire who knows exactly the right moves to make at each moment as he pursues his self-serving, often inscrutable goals” while helping to care for an alcoholic financier (James Fox).
  • British director Alexander Mackendrick’s little-seen A Boy Ten Feet Tall (a.k.a. Sammy Going South) tells the unusual story of a ten-year-old boy (Fergus McClelland) embarking on a trek across Africa to find his aunt, and encountering Edward G. Robinson’s grizzled jewel miner along the way. McClelland and Robinson are excellent together, and the cinematography by Erwin Hiller is often beautiful.
  • Murder at the Gallop remains a delightful Agatha Christie adaptation featuring jowly Margaret Rutherford as “prim, spinsterish Miss Marple.” As I note in my review, “With her otherworldly facial grimaces and her indomitable lust for sleuthing (and snooping), Rutherford carries the film with ease.”
  • From all of 1963’s titles, what stands out most is Hitchcock’s The Birds — one of his most unique and suspenseful thrillers, telling a metaphorically rich tale of a seaside town overtaken by gulls, crows, ravens, sparrows, and finches — for unknown reasons…

    “Why are they doing this? Why are they doing this? They said when you got here the whole thing started. Who are you? What are you? Where did you come from? I think you’re the cause of all of this. I think you’re evil. EVIL!”

  • The second James Bond film — From Russia With Love — is a worthy successor to Dr. No (1962), featuring a couple of memorable villains: blond Robert Shaw as a psychopathic British traitor, and Lotte Lenya as diabolical Rosa Klebb.
  • Jason and the Argonauts showcases some of Ray Harryhausen’s most memorable stop-motion animation, including (of course) the sword fighting skeletons, but also the giant statue of Talos coming to life and gruesome harpies relentlessly plaguing blind Phineus.
  • Martin Ritt’s Hud, a “film about alienation in all its forms,” is brutal viewing — worth watching for the powerful performances by co-stars Paul Newman and Patricia Neal, but not likely to engender much desire for a revisit.
  • Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s Cleopatra — notorious for its overblown budget and multi-year filming saga — is actually “a reasonably engaging (if over-long) saga of opulence, narcissism, treachery, and high drama among the elite ruling class,” with literally “no expense [being] spared to (re)create a vision of ancient Egypt and Rome fantastic enough to represent the delusional grandeur of such fabled rulers.” It nearly took down 20th Century Fox.
  • Finally, Roger Corman’s low-budget sci-fi thriller X: The Man with the X-Ray Eyes remains an enjoyable flick about the “inevitable downward spiral of a man [Ray Milland] who has… clearly become a ‘freak’ of nature, demonstrating that one “who can see ‘everything’ may have access to universal secrets best left untapped.”
    “We are virtually blind — all of us.”
    • As I’m reflecting on all these titles, I’m seeing a definite theme of terror and unease mixed with revolution and resilience. Life was getting increasingly challenging, and cinema was showing this in a variety of forms.

      I look forward to seeing where 1964 takes us!

Reflections on Must-See Films From 1962

Reflections on Must-See Films From 1962

1962 was an especially rich year for movies, with powerful films across genres and languages. Out of 75 total titles listed in Peary’s book, I voted “Yes – Must See” on 41 (55%). Many stand out to me as worthy of mentioning, for different reasons – so, here goes!

“I am sane. I am innocent. I have committed no crime!”
  • Numbers-wise, of the 41 must-see films, 10 are in a non-English language — including 6 French titles, 1 Spanish (The Exterminating Angel by Buñuel), 2 Japanese (one of which — Harakiri — I very recently reviewed), and 1 Polish (Roman Polanski’s debut film Knife in the Water, which remains a “surprisingly potent chamber piece” worth watching specifically for “its camera angles, strategic blocking of characters, and highly effective editing.”)
  • Of the six French titles, I want to highlight Sundays and Cybele by director Serge Bourguignon — an especially noteworthy (if challenging) film given how it “tackles the challenging topics of PTSD and cross-age friendships with sensitivity and compassion.”
  • While I’m not a huge fan of politics or political flicks, Otto Preminger’s Advise and Consent is an exception, offering “an unparalleled look at the inner workings of Washington, D.C.” and “a slowly gripping storyline… which takes its time getting to the crux of the drama.” The cast (including Don Murray, Charles Laughton, and Walter Pidgeon) is uniformly excellent.
  • Another must-see political film is John Frankenheimer’s incomparable The Manchurian Candidate, which I appreciate revisiting every so often. (Yes, I saw Jonathan Demme’s decent remake — but no, I don’t remember too much about it.) The original is worth watching for several reasons, including Angela “Lansbury’s Academy Award-nominated performance as Mrs. Iselin — one of cinema’s most memorable sociopath mothers” and the “lengthy, creatively filmed Manchurian ‘garden party’/brainwashing sequence, which effectively puts the audience on edge from the get-go.” (It gives me the chills every single time I view it.)
  • Speaking of films that put you on edge, horror and/or horror-adjacent flicks of all types reigned during this year… One delightful sleeper to revisit is the British cult film Burn, Witch, Burn! (a.k.a. Night of the Eagle), with horror evoked “in seemingly mundane interactions and objects” such that “we come to truly believe that dark forces are ruling the unfortunate household” of the protagonists.
  • Speaking of crazed middle-aged women, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? — about two “broken, tragic women whose jealousy and vanity have forced them both onto an inescapably disastrous trajectory” — is not-to-be missed, and is actually a title I’m due to revisit soon since I reviewed it way back in 2007.
  • Another cult favorite is Herk Harvey’s Carnival of Souls, an unusual low-budget horror-sleeper possessing “a surprising amount of atmosphere and panache, with striking b&w cinematography, creative direction, and a particularly noteworthy organ score by Gene Moore.”
  • An oh-so-powerful horror-adjacent title — though not recommended for repeated viewings — is the original iteration of Cape Fear, featuring Robert Mitchum as “a terrifyingly brutal bastard, an intelligent but deluded and narcissistic sociopath who uses humans as fodder for a sick scenario of vengeance he’s playing out in his head.”
  • I consider nearly all of Orson Welles’s unique directorial outings to be must-see — including his critically contentious adaptation of Franz Kafka’s The Trial, in which “the story plays out exactly like the nightmarish series of random encounters it is” (be forewarned).
  • Stanley Kubrick’s Lolita is another vibrant adaptation, featuring the inimitable James Mason as a man head-over-heels for his underaged stepdaughter. Sue Lyon’s “performance [in the title role] is at the heart of this film’s success — she’s preternaturally able to embody this challenging role and convince us that events are playing out exactly as seen on screen.”
  • I was riveted all over again when revisiting Arthur Penn’s The Miracle Worker, featuring a powerhouse performance by Anne Bancroft as Annie Sullivan (Helen Keller’s real-life teacher), a woman who “consistently and relentlessly stand[s] up for what she believes in, even at risk of losing her job.”
  • A beautifully filmed, crowd-pleasing favorite of 1962 is To Kill a Mockingbird, featuring (as Peary puts it) Gregory Peck as “the man you’d want for your father,” and one of the most memorable scores of all time, by Elmer Bernstein.
  • I’ve written fairly recently about how much I appreciated Sidney Lumet’s adaptation of Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night (co-starring Katharine Hepburn, Ralph Richardson, Dean Stockwell, and Jason Robards, Jr.), but I will put in yet another plug for it as one of the best theatrical adaptations out there.
  • So far, so black-and-white… But let’s not forget that the original James Bond movie — Dr. No — debuted this year in glorious Technicolor, featuring not only stylish Sean Connery but bodacious Ursula Andress in her iconic white bikini.
  • I was also delighted to find that The Music Man has held up really well and remains eminently sing-along-able.

    What can I do, my dear, to catch your ear
    I love you madly, madly Madam Librarian… Marian

  • I’ll leave it at that for now, but suffice it to say that 1962 offered up plenty of creatively diverse and enjoyable must-see titles spanning genres, countries, and budgets. Happy viewing!

    P.S. I just found out that I’m not alone in noticing how many awesome films were released this particular year… I’m curious to check out this book!

Film Fanatic End of 2023 Greetings

Film Fanatic End of 2023 Greetings

Hello, fellow Film Fanatics!

I hope 2023 has been good to you. I’m continually grateful that films offer at least some solace and affirmation despite everything else going on in the world.

“Jesus, the days that we have seen!”

Let’s get to numbers right away. So far, I’ve watched and reviewed fewer movies overall this year — just 147, as opposed to 287 last year — but I’m still making excellent progress towards completion of this venture, with only 670 more titles left in the book (out of 4300). I wonder if I may actually be done with this project in ~3-4 years?!

As I mentioned in my 2022 year-end recap, I’m not at all upset with this — it means I’ll have time to rewatch favorites, catch up with noteworthy titles NOT listed in Peary’s book, and finally start diving into more modern recent classics (I’m curious how many will make the cut as must-see.).

Here are just a few other reflections from my past year in (re)viewing:

  • I plowed my way through quite a few more Godard films this year, and only have six of his later-career titles (from the 1970s and 1980s) left. Other than Weekend (1967) — which remains historically relevant, but not at all fun to watch — the only one I’ve voted as must-see from this year’s viewing binge is Alphaville: A Strange Adventure of Lemmy Caution (1965), which I refer to in my review as an “unexpectedly provocative, typically low-budget Godard film” in which “there are enough interesting ideas explored … in visually creative ways that it’s easy to stay engaged.”

    (While I’m not personally a Godard fan, his innovation, consistency, and lifelong commitment to his beliefs were certainly to be commended — RIP, JLG: 12/03/30-09/13/22.)
  • The Great Escape (1963) has held up well as an epic WWII-era adventure classic. In my review, I point out that “the storyline — co-constructed by six writers — is almost unbearably tense at times, with no illusions that these men will escape unharmed.”
  • Arthur Penn’s Little Big Man (1970) remains an unsung western classic, one which effectively incorporates Native perspectives with humor, insight, and compassion. Both Dustin Hoffman (in the lead role) and Richard Mulligan as mad General Custer turn in especially memorable performances.
  • A personal treat this year was finally watching Peter Watkins’ innovative biopic Edvard Munch (1974), about the troubled Norwegian painter (who happens to be a not-so-distant ancestor of mine). The visuals are beautiful, and we really get a sense of his unique work coming to life.
  • My last pick to highlight from this past year is Das Boot (1981), which remains unparalleled in its gritty portrayal of life onboard a wartime submarine. It’s impossible not to marvel at how well director Wolfgang Petersen and his team — including his excellent cast — viscerally convey the hellishness this comprises.

On a final note, it was exciting to hear my 13-year-old son say that Night of the Living Dead (1968) is now his favorite movie! (We watched it together this summer in anticipation of him acting in a super-informal theatrical version of it.) While his camp production kind of — well, fell apart… I’m happy that watching the original movie sparked an interest in him. He’ll be attending a filmmaking camp for young teens next summer, and I’m curious to see what he comes up with.

Here’s to yet another year of watching and reviewing classic films!
— Film Fanatic.org

P.S. No, it’s not lost on me that none of the images chosen above represent women. I’ll add in a little Monica Vitti for your viewing pleasure, since I watched all four of her films with Antonioni this year. The still below is from (IMO) the best of them all — L’Avventura (1960).

Reflections on Must-See Films From 1961

Reflections on Must-See Films From 1961

I had so much fun writing my first reflection on a specific year of classic films (1960) that I’m back with another. Now that I’ve finally watched and reviewed Last Year at Marienbad (laborious but must-see) and La Notte (not must-see), it’s time to reflect on all titles from 1961!

“I’ll never get used to anything. Anybody that does, they might as well be dead.”

Here are a few thoughts and highlights:

  • Out of a total of 68 films from 1961, I once again voted Yes (i.e., “must see”) on 32 — nearly the exact same ratio as for 1960. (I wonder if I will see similar patterns as I look back at other years; I’m now motivated to go and check… )
  • Of these 32 must-see titles, 14 (nearly half) are non-American, with 7 British titles, two Spanish (though one of these — Jess Franco’s The Awful Dr. Orloff — was dubbed), two French, one Italian (Divorce, Italian Style), one Japanese (Yojimbo), and one Czech.
  • Speaking of the latter title, Karel Zeman’s The Fabulous Baron von Munchausen remains a truly unique treat — especially for lovers of animated features. As I wrote in my review, “It’s impossible to describe the sheer wealth of visual enjoyment Munchausen has to offer… The narrative basically consists of one bizarre, humanly impossible adventure after the other, and is written with a droll sense of humor.”
  • Disney had a couple of authentic hits that year, including One Hundred and One Dalmatians (featuring one of cinema’s most enduring villainesses, Cruella de Vil):

    … and The Parent Trap, which is flawed (certain narrative elements strain credulity) but well worth a revisit simply for its cult status — and for Hayley Mills x 2.
  • Marilyn Monroe fans won’t want to miss her noteworthy performance in John Huston’s The Misfits, where “it’s literally impossible to keep your eyes off of her, and we instantly understand why all the other characters want to be near her.”
  • Among Spanish director Luis Buñuel’s considerable output, his b&w classic Viridiana (co-starring Fernando Rey and Silvia Pinal) remains an accessible highlight, showcasing “the futility of noble intentions in the face of a thankless and debased humanity.”
  • Another not-to-be-missed title is Stanley Kramer’s Judgment at Nuremberg, which should probably be required viewing for all humans, not just film fanatics; but be forewarned that it’s “a uniquely challenging courtroom drama to sit through” given the complexities of the issues at stake.
  • Speaking of films with challenging topics and/or characters, there were plenty to go around in 1961 — including Robert Rossen’s The Hustler, featuring Paul Newman’s standout performance as “Fast Eddie” Felsen:

    … Sam Fuller’s Underworld U.S.A., a “morally challenging” “long-con revenge tale”:

    … and the original cinematic adaptation (featuring Sidney Poitier) of Lorraine Hansberry’s A Raisin in the Sun, in which “the toxicity of societal racism comes through loud and clear.”
  • Finally, a few personal favorites from 1961 include Jack Clayton’s highly atmospheric adaptation of Henry James’s “The Turn of the Screw,” retitled The Innocents:

    Victim, which took a bold cinematic step towards addressing legally sanctioned homophobia:

    … and Bryan Forbes’ little-seen Whistle Down the Wind (an excellent choice for Christmas viewing).

It was another good year for cinema!

Reflections on Must-See Films From 1960

Reflections on Must-See Films From 1960

Back in April of this year, I wrote a celebratory piece about finally finishing reviews for every title in GFTFF released before 1960. I reflected a bit on the 1950s as a cinematic decade, and enjoyed this process enough that I thought I might keep going — but this time, year by year.

“She just goes – a little mad sometimes. We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven’t you?”

Today, I posted a review on the final film left from 1960: Luchino Visconti’s Rocco and His Brothers (1960). It’s a gorgeously mounted film, well worth the three-hour investment, but Luchino’s films are enough of a — well, shall we say, a commitment that I don’t tend to jump into them willingly. (I still have four of his titles left.)

With that said, as I look over the chronological list of all titles in GFTFF from 1960, here are a few thoughts and highlights:

  • Out of the 67 total titles, I voted Yes on 32, which is nearly half — not a bad ratio! It’s these must-see titles I’ll focus on in this post.
  • Of these 32 titles, 17 (more than half!) are non-Hollywood films, indicating a definite trend in what was becoming worth watching at that time. We see six Italian (one dubbed), six British, two French, one Indian, one Swedish, and one independently made title.
  • Five of the remaining must-sees from 1960 are westerns, and four more are historical dramas set in different times. That leaves just five must-see American films set in contemporary times.
  • Enough with the numbers! What else stands out as notable from this list? Psycho is the clear frontrunner, and wins Peary’s (and my) award as Best Alternate Oscars Film of the Year. It really can’t be topped, and is among my personal five favorite films of all time (if I HAD to narrow all the goodness of cinema down to such a minimalist list).
  • Village of the Damned remains a creepy-classic-British-horror-cult-flick (that’s a mouthful) which I wouldn’t mind watching again at any moment. (That hair. Those stares.)
  • Having just watched gorgeous Alain Delon in Rocco and His Brothers, I must point out that he also starred that year in Purple Noon — a dishy, colorful Patricia Highsmith adaptation by Rene Clair, which was a treat to discover.
  • I’m a personal fan of Louis Malle’s delightfully surreal Zazie Dans le Metro, which is probably my favorite of his oeuvre (though Atlantic City is a close second). It’s jam-packed enough that it easily lends itself to multiple viewings.
  • John Huston’s The Unforgiven merits a broader look — especially given how often it’s shunted aside in favor of its more famous near-title-twin (not a remake) from 1992. Lillian Gish had a few significant “wins” in her post-silents career, and this is one of them.
  • Deservedly praised (from all corners) is Billy Wilder’s The Apartment, which has held up well on just about every front. Give it another look if you haven’t in a while.
  • Budd Boetticher gave us many fine, tight little westerns — including Comanche Station, which has a surprisingly lump-inducing (and overall surprising) ending.
  • Finally, I’ll note that The Savage Eye — a pseudo-documentary “made on weekends over a year’s time by a collective team of directors — Ben Maddow, Sidney Meyers, and Joseph Strick” — is a uniquely hypnotic film about loneliness and despair, and one I plan to revisit at some point (but maybe as a double-header with Pollyanna to round it out!)

I only have two more films left to review from 1961, so I’ll be back soon with my overview of that year in classic cinema!

Film Fanatic End of 2022 Greetings

Film Fanatic End of 2022 Greetings

Hello, fellow Film Fanatics!

I hope this has been an enjoyable year of movie watching for all of you. My family and I (kids now ages 10, 12, and 14) watched Home Alone (1990) yesterday, and it was a fun harbinger of what’s to come: once I’m done with this project, I’ll be moving on to covering more modern classics.

Unfortunately, 2022 has been a rough year for our family, with loss on numerous levels; with that said, I’m always grateful to movies for providing a safe haven in the midst of personal challenges.

Midway through the year I wrote a reflection on my milestone of having watched all the films in GFTFF up through the 1950s — so, all titles I’ve been reviewing since then were made between 1960-1987. There have been some definite gems, though I’ll admit to missing flicks from earlier decades.

Here are a few of my highlights from this past year of (re)viewing movies:

  • For the number geeks among you, I’ve reviewed an additional 287 films in 2022 (so far!). That brings me up to 3,483 or 81% of the titles in Peary’s Guide for the Film Fanatic — just 817 more to go!
  • I’ve continued to work my way through titles from Peary’s three Cult Movies books (just seven left). I can’t say many are personal favorites, but I was pleasantly surprised by at least a few: The Terminator (1984) has held up remarkably well as a dystopian sci-fi time travel flick (Schwarzenegger’s performance is fun!); Liquid Sky (1982) remains a darkly acerbic cultural commentary with truly far-out visuals; and of course Blade Runner (1982) maintains its status as a haunting masterpiece on so many levels.
  • My favorite auteur viewing this year was catching up with more of Sam Fuller’s unique output. While his Steel Helmet (1950) is a justifiable indie classic, lesser-known but equally worthy Fuller titles to check out include Fixed Bayonets (1951) (also taking place during the Korean War), the colorful House of Bamboo (1955), and the flawed but boldly unique Crimson Kimono (1959).
  • I was pleasantly surprised by how compelling Sidney Lumet’s screen adaptation of Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night (1962) remains: it’s powerfully acted, masterfully filmed, and never drags despite the undeniably challenging subject matter.
  • Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now (1979) continues to merit multiple viewings as a “surreal immersion piece.” As I noted in my review, “Coppola and his team set out to tell a tale of the Vietnam War that would highlight its deep absurdity and lasting impact on everyone involved — and in this, he succeeds.”
  • Finally, John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982) is a seriously creepy “remake” that offers an entirely different viewing experience from the 1951 classic; indeed, “Carpenter’s film succeeds on its own terms, presenting a wintery hellscape of justifiable paranoia in which these men… can no longer rely on one another for support and survival.” And the special effects are truly impressive.

Here’s to another year of watching and reviewing classic films!
— Film Fanatic.org

Reflection: Reviews Through the 1950s

Reflection: Reviews Through the 1950s

Hello, fellow film fanatics!

I’m getting close enough to the completion of this massive reviewing project that I’ve headed into a kind of chronological finish-line: as of today, I’ve reviewed every title listed in Guide For the Film Fanatic released before 1960. Click here and you’ll see.

(For those keeping track, I’ve reviewed 3,306 titles in total from the book, with only 994 left to go. Wow – less than 1,000! Another significant milestone.)

It seems fitting to write a brief note saying goodbye (for now) to the cinema of the first half+ of the 20th century — though of course, it bears emphasizing that as comprehensive as Peary’s book is, it’s far from complete in terms of listing EVERY noteworthy or must-see film. That is, there are gaps. Over the years, I’ve occasionally published reviews of what I perceive to be “Missing Titles” but more recently have once again focused on titles in GFTFF simply to keep making progress.

With that caveat in mind, what are my thoughts on “must see” cinema from the 1910s to the 1950s, now that I’ve reviewed all those titles from Peary’s book? I’ll focus this post on the 1950s, and save my thoughts on silent cinema (as well as movies from the 1930s and 1940s) for another time.

Note: Some of my insights below might seem fairly obvious to anyone interested in the history of cinema, but I’ll share them anyway just to document what’s stood out to me in my most recent months of watching, reviewing, and finishing up The List.

Takeaway One: Expansion of World Cinema
As filmmaking progressed over the decades, particularly into the 1950s, an increasing number of movies from across the globe were released (and now, of course, we have access to even more titles through digital platforms). By looking at my list of the “Foreign Films” listed in GFTFF, we can see that some countries and continents — i.e., Australia, Canada, the Netherlands, and South America, to name just a few — seem to have had their filmic renaissance in later years, while others (i.e., China and most African nations) remain severely under-represented overall (at least in Peary’s book). (Of course, there are complex socio-political reasons behind this, which I won’t get into here — I’m just pointing out the obvious.)

Highlights and/or notable trends from foreign films in the 1950s include the beginning of significant works from Ingmar Bergman; just a few titles from the Eastern bloc (albeit lovely and provocative ones); many beautifully shot films from Japan (including several solid classics from Akira Kurosawa); a distinct lack of post-WWII German titles; plenty of diverse and engaging French films; the rise of Fellini in Italy; and Satyajit Ray’s incomparable “Apu Trilogy” from India.

Takeaway Two: Visual Innovations
As we all know, screens got bigger — much bigger — during the 1950s (for a variety of reasons). While I was finishing up my reviews of ’50s titles in GFTFF, I was struck by the difference this format made for so many (though not all) movies. VistaVision had its heyday, CinemaScope came and (mostly) went, and other technologies were experimented with. My understanding of the “how” behind the glorious images we see on the screen is limited to what I learn by reading and watching “extras” (I’m an art lover, not a techie); but I do take note when it’s obvious that a wider screen is impacting our ability to appreciate what we’re seeing, either more or differently.

For instance, I was disappointed by what seemed to be a lack of widescreen innovation in Otto Preminger’s hard-to-find Porgy and Bess (1959) (though we’ll have to wait until a restoration is finally completed to see for sure). However, I’ve been blown away by so many other recently restored widescreen titles, in which it’s obvious how well-planned and well-utilized the massive screen space was. Even films I’m not particularly enamored with — i.e., King Vidor’s epic War and Peace (1956) — remain a vision to behold.

As a side note, this is a fabulous time to be a film fanatic. When I started this project 16 years ago, I was watching some utterly crappy bootleg copies of titles which have since been completely revitalized… I’ve become wonderfully spoiled, and am still in the process of replacing older stills in my earlier reviews with newer, better ones.

Takeaway Three: Sadly, History Repeats Itself
It’s been particularly distressing in recent months to revisit films made during or just after World War II, and see how much of what we thought was simply hideous history once again haunting our daily lives.

Fascism is back in full force, Cold War tensions remain ever-present, and… people treat each other in atrocious ways. War abides. Will that ever go away? It doesn’t seem likely. I’m obviously deeply disappointed that cinematic representation doesn’t cure all ills, but at least — at least — we can (and should) maintain some historically grounded humility in what we’re dealing with, with help from movies.

Final Thoughts
If you’re itching to read more about films from the 1950s, click here for a list of 100 “must see” titles from this decade (most are covered in Peary’s book) — and also be sure to check out Tim Dirks’ comprehensive overview of cinematic trends and influences during the 1950s. He covers teen heart-throbs (Marlon Brando, James, Dean, Elvis Presley) and teen exploitation films; the impact of television on studio production (including epics, 3D, and other widescreen films); big-budget musicals; “intelligent” westerns:

… larger-than-life ’50s icons such as Marilyn Monroe, Doris Day, Audrey Hepburn, and Elizabeth Taylor; Method acting; British influence; anti-Communist sentiment (including Cold-War inspired sci-fi); censorship and social conscience flicks; Godzilla; Jimmy Stewart; auteurs like Alfred Hitchcock, Nicholas Ray, and Douglas Sirk; and more.

That’s it for now. Back to viewing and reviewing! I’m heading forth into the 1960s and beyond

Filmfanatic.org Year-End Reflection 2021

Filmfanatic.org Year-End Reflection 2021

Greetings, fellow film fanatics! It’s been another busy year of movie watching and reviewing.

In keeping with the spirit of my check-in at the end of last year, I thought I would share that I’ve now reviewed 3,165, or ~73.6% of the titles in Peary’s Guide for the Film Fanatic — just 1,135 more to go. (Whew!)

(As much as I adore this extensive and ongoing project, I’m also looking forward to eventually turning my attention to post-1987 titles…)

With that said, here are a few recommendations and thoughts from my past year of viewing and posting on this site:

  • I spent much of February and March this year working my way through the many (many) horror films listed in GFTFF. My personal favorites are those which use tropes of the genre to comment on social ills — i.e., Bob Clark’s Deathdream (1974), which incorporates concepts of ghosts, vampires, and zombies to explore how PTSD manifests not only for soldiers but for their loved ones back home; and George Romero’s unusual vampire flick Martin (1977), which still haunts me months after watching it.
  • While many of the films discussed in Peary’s three Cult Movie books don’t resonate with me personally, I was pleasantly surprised to revisit Walter Hill’s cult classic The Warriors (1979); it remains a stylized gem of fantasy vengeance, with nifty comic captions added to the 2005 director’s cut. It’s well worth a look if you haven’t seen it in awhile.
  • It turns out that quite a few excellent films about World War II were made in the 1940s. Just a few recommendations from those I watched this year are: Zoltan Korda’s Sahara (1943), set in the North African desert and revolving around the need for water to survive; John Ford’s They Were Expendable (1945), about PT boat sailors in the Philippines; and William Wellman’s sobering, beautifully shot Battleground (1949).
  • Some French titles to highlight from this past year’s viewing include the provocative and sensitively handled Sundays and Cybele (1962) by director Serge Bourguignon, about a disturbed veteran’s friendship with a young girl; Alain Resnais’s still-intriguing New Wave classic Hiroshima Mon Amour (1959), in which “sensual connection is shown as a form of visceral engagement with uncomfortable truths”; and Maurice Cloche’s Monsieur Vincent (1947), about the life and spiritual growth of St. Vincent de Paul.
  • Many excellent movies are too harsh to bear watching more than once or twice. Among the classics I’m glad I revisited this year but can’t imagine seeing again any time soon include Robert Rossen’s The Hustler (1961), featuring a stand-out performance by young Paul Newman as pool hustler ‘Fast’ Eddie Felson; Martin Scorsese’s Raging Bull (1980), an expressive biopic about abusive, paranoid, self-loathing boxer Jake La Motta; and Claude Lanzmann’s massive, essential, relentlessly sobering Holocaust documentary Shoah (1985).
  • Finally, a few underrated gems I (re)discovered from the late ’40s and early ’50s include Carol Reed’s The Fallen Idol (1948), about a lonely young boy caught in a web of confusing secrets; George Stevens’ I Remember Mama (1948), with a powerful lead performance and convincing Norwegian accent by Irene Dunne; Anthony Mann’s The Tall Target (1951), about an attempted assassination of Abraham Lincoln; John Huston’s editorially butchered but haunting The Red Badge of Courage (1951); and Henry Koster’s No Highway in the Sky (1951), about a brilliant scientist (Jimmy Stewart) who no one will believe (ahem) during a time of imminent crisis.

Happy 2022 (almost) to everyone! (I’ll keep posting over the next few days.)
-FilmFanatic (Sylvia)

FilmFanatic.org Year-End Reflection 2020

FilmFanatic.org Year-End Reflection 2020

FilmFanatic.org has been going strong for over 14 years!

It’s remarkable how access to older movies has shifted in recent years, from the days when I could only find obscure titles at a local corner video store to an era when restored copies are available to stream online. (Not everything, of course — but plenty!)

In addition to switching over to a new WordPress theme this year, I’ve been spending many hours cleaning up older reviews, removing or replacing outdated links, and adding new — bigger, clearer — stills, including incorporating images directly into the review narratives themselves.

I’ve also (hopefully) made it easier to find Peary’s recommended movies according to actors (A-J, K-Z), directors, countries-of-origin, genres, and more. It’s not perfect, but it feels like I’m getting closer to the more streamlined and organized site I’ve imagined all along.

For those interested in stats, here are the latest numbers on how many of Peary’s Guide for the Film Fanatic films have been covered on this site so far:

  • 1,118 reviews of titles in the front section of Peary’s book
  • 1,706 reviews of titles from the back section of Peary’s book
  • 41 additional reviews of titles considered “missing” from Peary’s book

That’s a total of 2,842 out of 4,300 Peary-listed titles covered, which is 65.67%.

There is still no rhyme or reason to how or why I choose to cover certain titles, other than occasionally feeling motivated to work my way through all recommended movies with a certain actor, by a certain director, on a certain topic, etc. For instance, I finally finished (re)watching and reviewing all the James Bond movies listed in Peary’s GFTFF. (Go here and search for “James Bond Films” and you’ll see them listed and hyper-linked.) And I watched NEARLY all the Tarzan flicks Peary recommends (just one more left).

My goals for FilmFanatic.org in this next year include the following:

  • Keep plugging away at reviews (of course!) and get closer to the finish line. (This is a marathon, not a sprint — and an enjoyable one at that!)
  • Make more real-life connections with my fellow bloggers at CMBA (the Classic Movie Blog Association).
  • Continue to think about how to introduce newer, younger film fanatics to the wealth of amazing classic and cult movies out there, both must-sees and personal favorites. What’s the best format for this???
  • Dream about maybe (maybe) trying out some video reviews to post on YouTube.

Meanwhile, here are some highlights of favorite movies I’ve watched and reviewed in 2020:

  • To get your Pre-Code fix, check out the fabulous Edward G. in The Little Giant (1933), which “builds to an enormously satisfying conclusion”.
  • For an unexpected treat on New Year’s, watch Angels Over Broadway (1940), a “compact, humanistic thriller about a quartet of down-and-out individuals finding each other one evening and conspiring to pull a fast one on fate”.
  • James Mason is one of my favorite actors; this year I watched him in Carol Reed’s Odd Man Out (1947), which I found “consistently engaging, innovative, and touching”, and in the tense spy flick Five Fingers (1952) (one of the few Hollywood films Mason purportedly enjoyed watching himself in).
  • If you’re curious to see Humphrey Bogart in his only horror film role, check out The Return of Doctor X (1939) — an “atmospherically shot B-flick” which offers “a pseudo-comedic mad-doctor amateur-sleuth genre-mash”.
  • Robert Montgomery is “enigmatic and charming” in Night Must Fall (1937), a “unique and well-acted thriller” which it’s best to watch cold (no spoilers here).
  • Seven Days to Noon (1950), about a distressed British scientist who takes lethal matters into his own hands, was an unexpected treat to stumble upon. As I write in my review, “From its opening moments until its almost unspeakably tension-filled finale, we’re held on the edge of our seats during this film.”
  • Though I’m not a huge fan of biopics, I was pleasantly surprised to revisit Greer Garson and Walter Pidgeon in Madame Curie (1943), finding it “both atmospheric and highly engaging”. It remains “a meticulously told tale of scientific inquiry, rigor, and suspense”.
  • Peter Brook’s adaptation of William Golding’s novel Lord of the Flies (1963) is creepy and oh-so unique. It’s tough viewing, but cult-worthy cinema.
  • The Wicker Man (1973), Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975), and Being There (1979) all remain justifiable cult favorites from the 1970s — very much worth a revisit if you haven’t seen them in awhile.
  • While helping my son with a project-based assignment on the sinking of the Titanic, I watched Roy Ward Baker’s excellent A Night to Remember (1958) and was duly impressed. It’s “notable for its fidelity to historical detail, and for portraying this well-known tragedy in an effectively gripping fashion.”
  • Budd Boetticher’s The Tall T (1957), starring Randolph Scott, is a winner: “At just 78 minutes, this nifty western moves swiftly and tells a taut, tense tale from beginning to end.”
  • Perhaps you’ll agree with me that there are few better ways to spend your film-viewing hours than watching gorgeous Montgomery Clift on-screen. I revisited several of his titles this year — including Indiscretion of an American Wife (1953) (flawed) and From Here to Eternity (1954) (solid) — but my recommendations are two of his earliest titles: The Search (1948) and Howard Hawks’ Red River (1948).
  • Jules Dassin’s Thieves Highway (1949) — co-starring Richard Conte and Lee J. Cobb — offers “an elaborate revenge flick within a landscape of omni-present corruption and hustling.” You’ll never casually eat an apple again without thinking of this film.
  • A nearly perfect cult classic to revisit at any time is Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964). You won’t be sorry!
  • To get your Elvis fix, definitely check out the engaging documentary Elvis: That’s the Way It Is (1970), with lovely cinematography by Lucien Ballard. Elvis is at his peak here.
  • Finally, the perfect COVID-era flicks this year have included Vincent Price in Roger Corman’s Poe-inspired The Masque of the Red Death (1964) (“Famine, pestilence, war, disease, and death — they rule this world!”) and Ingmar Bergman’s timeless classic The Seventh Seal (1957).

Happy 2021 to everyone!
-FilmFanatic (Sylvia)