Other People's Favorite Movies

[Qrazy]

The awesomeness of The Long Goodbye and California Split might have a lot to do with Elliott Gould. He pulls of the relaxed, sardonic thing better than anyone. Even when he's being kind of manic in CS, it's still a laid back manic. I like that.

If you haven't seen it, check out Little Murders. It's not as good as the Altman's but Gould is good in it and the film itself although slightly uneven has a number of excellent scenes and a fairly unique vision. It's also pretty frequently hilarious.

[Melville]

I'm trying to finish my PhD by the end of this year, and to facilitate that, I'm going to try to ween myself off this damn internet. So I'll get back to this thread in a few months.

[Melville]

I'm going to try to finish this thread eventually. Updates will be sparse and erratic.

Something Wild (Demme, 1986)
It starts out as a fairly charming romantic comedy with a somewhat stereotypical story of a lively woman teaching an uptight guy to loosen up. But then about halfway through, in the middle of a highschool reunion dance, Ray Liotta slowly dances into the frame, all sallow skin, dark eyes, and violent energy. It’s a great moment, a sudden, radical shift from slightly off-kilter romantic comedy into remarkably tense thriller. (It reminded me somewhat of Tony Leung’s appearance in Cyclo, which brought about a similarly sudden change in genre and tone.) The whole film, both within its two portions and even moreso in the rapid transition between them, has a jittery sense that anything can happen. That feeling of spontaneity, the use and breaking of genre rules, not only reinforces the protagonist’s transformation from uptight businessman into something of a freespirit, but the violence and dread of the second half lends some feeling of reality and import to the character’s transformation, ensuring that it is more than just a cliche. Good stuff.

[Melville]

L'Intrus (Denis, 2004)
I think this might be in the running for the most tedious movie ever made. It consists of a sequence of disjointed scenes about an old guy getting an illegal heart transplant. As is typical with Denis, the details of the plot are elided, but in this case they are almost totally absent, leaving very little sense of what is occurring. That isn’t necessarily a problem for me, since I’m typically more interested in aesthetics and atmosphere than plot, but I found that those two things were also absent; aside from a few shots (a ball of ribbons being released at the christening of a boat, and one or two shots of the sea and snow), the visuals felt bland to me, and the music was singular but also singularly uninteresting. Furthermore, the movie conveyed no meaning to me: I gathered more about the themes of memory, the Self and Otherness, simply by reading a plot synopsis. I read an interview in which Denis stated that the whole film should feel like it occurs in the mind of the protagonist, but the film never gave me that sense, nor did it even give me any sense of the character himself.

Admittedly I was in a very poor state of mind when I saw it, which might have skewed my appreciation, but just a few days earlier I watched another Denis movie, Trouble Every Day, which I thought was both terrifically atmospheric and a compelling exploration of sexual desire, the sacrifices and responsibilities involved in romance, and the textures of the human body itself... so I think this movie is just not for me.



Denis ranked:

Trouble Every Day - 8.5
Chocolat - 8.5
Friday Night - 8.5
Beau Travail - 7.5
L'Intrus - 2.5

[Derek]

I do still plan on writing a defense of this. It'll have to wait until after my year-end film/music nonsense, but it'll happen. You and Spinal will get your just desserts.

[Melville]

I do still plan on writing a defense of this. It'll have to wait until after my year-end film/music nonsense, but it'll happen. You and Spinal will get your just desserts.
I look forward to reading it. My expectations were pretty high going in, especially after reading Duncan's thoughts on it a few months ago...but man, the tedium was just overwhelming, and the themes, which are right up my alley, and characters just felt undeveloped by the stream of images.

[Spinal]

I had to look up what I wrote about it, because I barely remember it at all. Anyway, for Melville's benefit:


The Intruder is one of the most disappointing films I've seen in a while. Not captivating or mysterious. Just long, dull and opaque. At some point, about 90 minutes in, I thought, "Is that all she's going to do with this premise?" And yes, yes it was. The second thought I had was "I bet Derek really loves this movie." And yes, yes he does. This has to be my least favorite aesthetic. This minimalist poetry stretching out 5 minutes of content over 2 hours of film nonsense. The best parts of the film are the scenes with the young couple at the beginning and then they completely disappear. I wish the film had been about them instead of this old piece of granite that we're stuck with. I see reviews saying it's a puzzler. Is it? Or is it the fact that we assume a major director couldn't possibly make a film about so little? I've seen the kind of film that Denis can make when things work well (Friday Night, Trouble Every Day). I don't think this one works.

The shot at Derek was uncalled for, but I have to confess it still makes me giggle.

[Derek]

The shot at Derek was uncalled for, but I have to confess it still makes me giggle.

I honestly didn't take offense. "Minimalist poetry" as you call it is often my cup of tea. :)

[Raiders]

I really need to see more Denis. I have been meaning to watch L'Intrus for about six months now.

[Derek]

I really need to see more Denis. I have been meaning to watch L'Intrus for about six months now.

I'd be interested to see what you think. I'm fairly confident you won't hate it as much as Spinal or Melville, but I'm really not sure how you'll take to it.

[Melville]

I had to look up what I wrote about it, because I barely remember it at all. Anyway, for Melville's benefit:
Yeah, I was hoping that I would side with Duncan's response to you (which I should dig up as well, because it was pretty good), but I totally agree with your review.


I really need to see more Denis. I have been meaning to watch L'Intrus for about six months now.
Respond to my Something Wild review while your at it. ;)

Which of her films have you seen?

[Raiders]

Respond to my Something Wild review while your at it. ;)

Well, you're right, of course. I just adore Demme's consistent, career-long appraisal of small-town Americana, the "yuppies" and how lovingly (or perhaps a better word is "dedicated") he sketches every character. From the store clerk to the black church members, he has a very "inclusive" nature to his cinema that can potentially be a detriment, but his vision is so encompassing and heartfelt it always wins me over.

Plus, he's got wicked awesome soundtracks.


Which of her films have you seen?

Friday Night which I absolutely loved and Beau travail which I admired but felt very indifferent to much of the time.

[Melville]

Friday Night which I absolutely loved and Beau travail which I admired but felt very indifferent to much of the time.
I say go for Trouble Every Day next. It rocks.

EDIT: expanding on that: those were pretty much my reactions (though it sounds like a liked Beau Travail a bit more than you did, especially once the brilliant ending comes around), so I'd guess that you'd like Trouble Every Day a lot more than L'Intrus. I'll be interested in reading your thoughts on both though.

[B-side]

I was pretty indifferent to L'Intrus myself. It was my first Denis, though, which probably wasn't the best idea.

[dreamdead]

Was L'Intrus on my list? I don't even remember anymore. :| I think I'm one of those people who now feels most tied to Friday Night and Beau travail; despite the rather political-free context of the former, which is odd for her, it feels the most magical and articulates a sense of female independence better than almost any other film I've seen. Still need to see Chocolat here soon, though.

For my part, I feel connected to L'Intrus because all of the mournfulness that envelops Louis Trebor's after the heart condition. I think Denis orchestrates a powerful story wherein all of Trebor's lost potential comes to haunt him and this wayward community that he finds in at the end offers a chance if not necessarily a full-fledged corrective. Though, to be fair, after these four years since I viewed it, it's more moments that linger in my memory--much of the character dynamics have long since faded. But the vigor of those images (the frozen body, the abandonment of the dogs, the languid reclining by the river) are all indelibly etched into my memory. I do suppose she has stronger character work, though, as evidenced above if I'm fully honest.

[Melville]

Was L'Intrus on my list? I don't even remember anymore. :| I think I'm one of those people who now feels most tied to Friday Night and Beau travail; despite the rather political-free context of the former, which is odd for her, it feels the most magical and articulates a sense of female independence better than almost any other film I've seen. Still need to see Chocolat here soon, though.

For my part, I feel connected to L'Intrus because all of the mournfulness that envelops Louis Trebor's after the heart condition. I think Denis orchestrates a powerful story wherein all of Trebor's lost potential comes to haunt him and this wayward community that he finds in at the end offers a chance if not necessarily a full-fledged corrective. Though, to be fair, after these four years since I viewed it, it's more moments that linger in my memory--much of the character dynamics have long since faded. But the vigor of those images (the frozen body, the abandonment of the dogs, the languid reclining by the river) are all indelibly etched into my memory. I do suppose she has stronger character work, though, as evidenced above if I'm fully honest.
L'Intrus was number 99 on your list, so you evidently weren't that attached to it. I really didn't get much of a feeling of Trebor's mournfulness. It seemed purposely obscured by the film's opacity, as if Denis started with a powerful story and then decided to reduce its power as much as possible by eliding almost the entire story and dwelling on flat, affectless moments. And though I watched it only a week or two ago, I don't even remember the three images you mention.:|

[Melville]

I've watched a bunch of really spectacular movies that I have a lot to say about, but actually writing those things down reeks of effort, so here are some half-assed ramblings about two movies that I wasn't as keen on.

Also, I'm not sure why I haven't been showing my ratings for each movie (other than on the first page of the thread), so I'll start doing so now.


The 36th Chamber of Shaolin (Chia-Liang Liu, 1978)
The story’s about kung fu as a means of fighting oppression and such. The aesthetic is the silly side of the 70s—lots of zooms and rapid pans that provide a goofy emphasis to everything; further goofy emphasis is provided by the exaggerated performances and cheesy sound effects. Most scenes come with groan-inducing humor too.

This movie…this is not my kind of movie.

Rating: 4/10


Kill, Baby…Kill! (Bava, 1966)
There’s something endearing about all the iconic horror elements that fill out this movie: it’s all spiderwebs and fog and green lights. The story revolves around equally iconic elements: the clash between superstitious villagers and modern men of science, and supernatural vengeance wrought upon a group of wrongdoers. And like most horror movies, it does well to confirm that children are evil, especially when dead. Unfortunately, this kind of pulpy entertainment really works for me only when it comes in a flamboyantly stylized or inventive form, which this film does not.

But on the plus side, the score is terrifically eerie. And there’s a magnificent scene where the protagonist runs through a doorway at one end of a room, somehow arrives at the other end of the same room, does the same thing a few more times, then sees himself at the other end, and ends up chasing himself through this Zelda-puzzle nightmare-room. The scene plays out quickly, not dwelling on the oddness, and it’s all the more disconcerting because of its rapidity. I can’t get enough of that kind of breakdown of everyday reality. And it lends itself particularly well to horror stories, taking us into that frightening unknown that everybody’s always talking about. If the film had a few more scenes like that, I probably would have thought it was pretty great.

Rating: 6/10

[Philosophe_rouge]

I'm not sure what it was exactly, and I somehow doubt if I rewatch it, it'll have the same effect but when I watched Kill, Baby, Kill it scared the bejeebes out of me like few films have.

[soitgoes...]

The 36th Chamber of Shaolin (Chia-Liang Liu, 1978)
The story’s about kung fu as a means of fighting oppression and such. The aesthetic is the silly side of the 70s—lots of zooms and rapid pans that provide a goofy emphasis to everything; further goofy emphasis is provided by the exaggerated performances and cheesy sound effects. Most scenes come with groan-inducing humor too.

This movie…this is not my kind of movie.

Rating: 4/10
You should probably stay away from pretty much every other pre-1985 HK action movie then. This one is pretty much regarded as the cream of the crop.

[Melville]

I'm not sure what it was exactly, and I somehow doubt if I rewatch it, it'll have the same effect but when I watched Kill, Baby, Kill it scared the bejeebes out of me like few films have.
Wow. Though I liked it, it didn't seem even the least bit scary to me.


You should probably stay away from pretty much every other pre-1985 HK action movie then. This one is pretty much regarded as the cream of the crop.
I watched about 15 minutes of The Boxer from Shantung and liked what I saw, so I'm still holding out hope.

[B-side]

Melly Ville, doth thou plan on watching that Fassbinder I'm so fond of any time soon?:)

[B-side]

Melly Ville, doth thou plan on watching that Fassbinder I'm so fond of any time soon?:)

Never mind. Just saw the OP and saw that you gave it a 9.5. A mind-blowing 3 rep points coming your way, sir. No need to thank me, or to rep me non-stop for a week. I give because I care, and because I like other people liking Fassbinder.

[B-side]

I'm rather fond of this idea of yours. I feel like stealing it. Naturally, mine would be much less awesome, but it sounds like a blast.

[Melville]

Never mind. Just saw the OP and saw that you gave it a 9.5. A mind-blowing 3 rep points coming your way, sir. No need to thank me, or to rep me non-stop for a week. I give because I care, and because I like other people liking Fassbinder.
I just decided to bump it up to a 10. Films really don't get much better than it, so the .5 seems like quibbling. I also bumped Titicut Follies up to 10.


I'm rather fond of this idea of yours. I feel like stealing it. Naturally, mine would be much less awesome, but it sounds like a blast.
You said that months ago. Get moving on it.:P

[B-side]

I just decided to bump it up to a 10. Films really don't get much better than it, so the .5 seems like quibbling. I also bumped Titicut Follies up to 10.

Yay.:pritch:


You said that months ago. Get moving on it.:P

I did, didn't I? I felt a bit of deja vu when I was posting that. I'll have to decide which 4 posters I feel have tastes that most closely resemble mine. Where's your list? Is it with the rest of them?

[Melville]

I did, didn't I? I felt a bit of deja vu when I was posting that. I'll have to decide which 4 posters I feel have tastes that most closely resemble mine. Where's your list? Is it with the rest of them?
I actually selected the four lists somewhat quantitatively, using the formula

# of great films - # of awful films
# of films I've seen

or, in words, "fraction of films on list that I thought were great minus fraction that I thought were awful".

I think my list is only to be found in that failed top 100 thread I did with Sven, Duncan, and Derek. Here's an updated, not-really thought-out list:
1. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Kubrick, 1968)
2. Andrei Rublev (Tarkovsky, 1969)
3. Ordet (Dreyer, 1955)
4. Persona (Bergman, 1966)
5. Solaris (Tarkovsky, 1972)
6. Cries and Whispers (Bergman, 1972)
7. Vertigo (Hitchcock, 1958)
8. It's a Wonderful Life (Capra, 1946)
9. Lawrence of Arabia (Lean, 1962)
10. The Mirror (Tarkovsky, 1975)
11. Edvard Munch (Watkins, 1974)
12. Ivan the Terrible Part II (Eisenstein, 1946)
13. Eraserhead (Lynch, 1977)
14. Schindler's List (Spielberg, 1993)
15. Blue Velvet (Lynch, 1986)
16. Fanny and Alexander (Bergman, 1982)
17. Magnolia (PT Anderson, 1999)
18. The Son (Dardennes, 2002)
19. Lost Highway (Lynch, 1997)
20. Mulholland Dr. (Lynch, 2001)
21. The Aviator (Scorsese, 2004)
22. Diary of a Country Priest (Bresson, 1954)
23. Woman in the Dunes (Teshigahara, 1964)
24. Taxi Driver (Scorsese, 1976)
25. In the Mood for Love (Wong Kar-Wai, 2000)
26. The Third Man (Reed, 1949)
27. A Woman under the Influence (Cassavetes, 1974)
28. Punch-Drunk Love (PT Anderson, 2002)
29. Chinatown (Polanski, 1974)
30. Unforgiven (Eastwood, 1992)
31. Rushmore (Wes Anderson, 1998)
32. Serene Velocity (Gehr, 1970)
33. Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979)
34. Touch of Evil (Welles, 1958)
35. Blood of the Beasts (Franju, 1949)
36. Days of Heaven (Malick, 1978)
37. Hour of the Wolf (Bergman, 1968)
38. Dead Ringers (Cronenberg, 1988)
39. In a Lonely Place (Nicholas Ray, 1950)
40. There Will Be Blood (PT Anderson, 2007)
41. The Battle of Algiers (Pontecorvo, 1966)
42. Citizen Kane (Welles, 1941)
43. City Lights (Chaplin, 1931)
44. Titicut Follies (Wiseman, 1967)
45. Manhattan (Woody Allen, 1979)
46. The Passion of Joan of Arc (Dreyer, 1928)
47. Aguirre, the Wrath of God (Herzog, 1972)
48. Fitzcarraldo (Herzog, 1982)
49. Requiem for a Dream (Aronofsky, 2000)
50. Possession (Zulawski, 1981)
51. In a Year of 13 Moons (Fassbinder, 1978)
52. The Seventh Seal (Bergman, 1957)
53. Psycho (Hitchcock, 1960)
54. Badlands (Malick, 1973)
55. Rosemary's Baby (Polanski, 1968)
56. Fargo (Coens, 1996)
57. The Big Lebowski (Coens, 1998)
58. Buffalo '66 (Gallo, 1998)
59. The Spirit of the Beehive (Erice, 1973)
60. Boys Don't Cry (Peirce, 1999)
61. Bigger than Life (Nicholas Ray, 1956)
62. The Act of Seeing w/ One's Own Eyes (Brakhage, 1971)
63. The Devil (Zulawski, 1972)
64. The Godfather Parts I & II (FF Coppola, 1972 & 1974)
65. Napoléon (Abel Gance, 1927)
66. The New World (Malick, 2005)
67. The Circus (Chaplin, 1928)
68. Metropolis (Lang, 1927)
69. A Clockwork Orange (Kubrick, 1971)
70. The Sweet Hereafter (Egoyan, 1997)
71. Gun Crazy (Lewis, 1950)
72. Koyaanisqatsi (Reggio, 1982)
73. Crumb (Zwigoff, 1994)
74. Pas de Deux (McLaren, 1968)
75. Dr. Strangelove (Kubrick, 1964)
76. Au hasard Balthazar (Bresson, 1966)
77. Princess Mononoke (Miyazaki, 1997)
78. Capturing the Friedmans (Jarecki, 2003)
79. Raiders of the Lost Ark (Spielberg, 1981)
80. The Conversation (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974)
81. All about Eve (Mankiewicz, 1950)
82. The Good Girl (Arteta, 2002)
83. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (Forman, 1975)
84. Stardust Memories (Allen, 1980)
85. Scorpio Rising (Anger, 1964)
86. The Mascot, (Starewicz, 1934)
87. Pierrot le fou (Godard, 1965)
88. Masculine-Feminine (Godard, 1966)
89. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (Parajanov, 1964)
90. 8 ½ (Fellini, 1963)
91. Woyzeck (Herzog, 1979)
92. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Gondry, 2004)
93. Lost in Translation (Sofia Coppola, 2003)
94. The Good, the Bad & the Ugly (Leone, 1966)
95. Pather Panchali (Satyajit Ray, 1955)
96. Emak-Bakia (Man Ray, 1926)
97. The Big Sleep (Hawks, 1946)
98. The Double Life of Veronique (Kieslowski, 1991)
99. The Royal Tenenbaums, (Wes Anderson, 2001)
100. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (Wiene, 1920)
101. Winsor McCay, the Famous Cartoonist (McCay, 1911)
102. A Zed & Two Noughts (Greenaway, 1985)
103. Werckmeister Harmonies (Tarr, 2000)
104. Leaving Las Vegas (Figgis, 1995)
105. The Servant (Losey, 1963)
106. Winged Migration (Perrin & Cluzaud, 2001)
107. They Shoot Horses, Don't They? (Pollack, 1969)
108. Hannah & Her Sisters (Allen, 1986)
109. Vengeance is Mine (Imamura, 1979)
110. Army of Shadows (Melville, 1969)
111. Children of Paradise (Carne, 1945)
112. A Time for Drunken Horses (Ghobadi, 2000)
113. Duck Soup (McCarey, 1933)
114. Synecdoche, NY (Kaufman, 2008)
115. The Forsaken Land (Jayasundara, 2005)

[B-side]

I actually selected the four lists somewhat quantitatively, using the formula

# of great films - # of awful films
# of films I've seen

or, in words, "fraction of films on list that I thought were great minus fraction that I thought were awful".

I think my list is only to be found in that failed top 100 thread I did with Sven, Duncan, and Derek. Here's an updated, not-really thought-out list:
1. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Kubrick, 1968)
2. Andrei Rublev (Tarkovsky, 1969)
3. Ordet (Dreyer, 1955)
4. Persona (Bergman, 1966)
5. Solaris (Tarkovsky, 1972)
6. Cries and Whispers (Bergman, 1972)
7. Vertigo (Hitchcock, 1958)
8. It's a Wonderful Life (Capra, 1946)
9. Lawrence of Arabia (Lean, 1962)
10. The Mirror (Tarkovsky, 1975)
11. Edvard Munch (Watkins, 1974)
12. Ivan the Terrible Part II (Eisenstein, 1946)
13. Eraserhead (Lynch, 1977)
14. Schindler's List (Spielberg, 1993)
15. Blue Velvet (Lynch, 1986)
16. Fanny and Alexander (Bergman, 1982)
17. Magnolia (PT Anderson, 1999)
18. The Son (Dardennes, 2002)
19. Lost Highway (Lynch, 1997)
20. Mulholland Dr. (Lynch, 2001)
21. The Aviator (Scorsese, 2004)
22. Diary of a Country Priest (Bresson, 1954)
23. Woman in the Dunes (Teshigahara, 1964)
24. Taxi Driver (Scorsese, 1976)
25. In the Mood for Love (Wong Kar-Wai, 2000)
26. The Third Man (Reed, 1949)
27. A Woman under the Influence (Cassavetes, 1974)
28. Punch-Drunk Love (PT Anderson, 2002)
29. Chinatown (Polanski, 1974)
30. Unforgiven (Eastwood, 1992)
31. Rushmore (Wes Anderson, 1998)
32. Serene Velocity (Gehr, 1970)
33. Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979)
34. Touch of Evil (Welles, 1958)
35. Blood of the Beasts (Franju, 1949)
36. Days of Heaven (Malick, 1978)
37. Hour of the Wolf (Bergman, 1968)
38. Dead Ringers (Cronenberg, 1988)
39. In a Lonely Place (Nicholas Ray, 1950)
40. There Will Be Blood (PT Anderson, 2007)
41. The Battle of Algiers (Pontecorvo, 1966)
42. Citizen Kane (Welles, 1941)
43. City Lights (Chaplin, 1931)
44. Titicut Follies (Wiseman, 1967)
45. Manhattan (Woody Allen, 1979)
46. The Passion of Joan of Arc (Dreyer, 1928)
47. Aguirre, the Wrath of God (Herzog, 1972)
48. Fitzcarraldo (Herzog, 1982)
49. Requiem for a Dream (Aronofsky, 2000)
50. Possession (Zulawski, 1981)
51. In a Year of 13 Moons (Fassbinder, 1978)
52. The Seventh Seal (Bergman, 1957)
53. Psycho (Hitchcock, 1960)
54. Badlands (Malick, 1973)
55. Rosemary's Baby (Polanski, 1968)
56. Fargo (Coens, 1996)
57. The Big Lebowski (Coens, 1998)
58. Buffalo '66 (Gallo, 1998)
59. The Spirit of the Beehive (Erice, 1973)
60. Boys Don't Cry (Peirce, 1999)
61. Bigger than Life (Nicholas Ray, 1956)
62. The Act of Seeing w/ One's Own Eyes (Brakhage, 1971)
63. The Devil (Zulawski, 1972)
64. The Godfather Parts I & II (FF Coppola, 1972 & 1974)
65. Napoléon (Abel Gance, 1927)
66. The New World (Malick, 2005)
67. The Circus (Chaplin, 1928)
68. Metropolis (Lang, 1927)
69. A Clockwork Orange (Kubrick, 1971)
70. The Sweet Hereafter (Egoyan, 1997)
71. Gun Crazy (Lewis, 1950)
72. Koyaanisqatsi (Reggio, 1982)
73. Crumb (Zwigoff, 1994)
74. Pas de Deux (McLaren, 1968)
75. Dr. Strangelove (Kubrick, 1964)
76. Au hasard Balthazar (Bresson, 1966)
77. Princess Mononoke (Miyazaki, 1997)
78. Capturing the Friedmans (Jarecki, 2003)
79. Raiders of the Lost Ark (Spielberg, 1981)
80. The Conversation (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974)
81. All about Eve (Mankiewicz, 1950)
82. The Good Girl (Arteta, 2002)
83. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (Forman, 1975)
84. Stardust Memories (Allen, 1980)
85. Scorpio Rising (Anger, 1964)
86. The Mascot, (Starewicz, 1934)
87. Pierrot le fou (Godard, 1965)
88. Masculine-Feminine (Godard, 1966)
89. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (Parajanov, 1964)
90. 8 ½ (Fellini, 1963)
91. Woyzeck (Herzog, 1979)
92. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Gondry, 2004)
93. Lost in Translation (Sofia Coppola, 2003)
94. The Good, the Bad & the Ugly (Leone, 1966)
95. Pather Panchali (Satyajit Ray, 1955)
96. Emak-Bakia (Man Ray, 1926)
97. The Big Sleep (Hawks, 1946)
98. The Double Life of Veronique (Kieslowski, 1991)
99. The Royal Tenenbaums, (Wes Anderson, 2001)
100. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (Wiene, 1920)
101. Winsor McCay, the Famous Cartoonist (McCay, 1911)
102. A Zed & Two Noughts (Greenaway, 1985)
103. Werckmeister Harmonies (Tarr, 2000)
104. Leaving Las Vegas (Figgis, 1995)
105. The Servant (Losey, 1963)
106. Winged Migration (Perrin & Cluzaud, 2001)
107. They Shoot Horses, Don't They? (Pollack, 1969)
108. Hannah & Her Sisters (Allen, 1986)
109. Vengeance is Mine (Imamura, 1979)
110. Army of Shadows (Melville, 1969)
111. Children of Paradise (Carne, 1945)
112. A Time for Drunken Horses (Ghobadi, 2000)
113. Duck Soup (McCarey, 1933)
114. Synecdoche, NY (Kaufman, 2008)
115. The Forsaken Land (Jayasundara, 2005)

Interesting. I think I'll just combine your list with maybe 1 or 2 others I feel I share a lot of cinematic inclinations with and see where that gets me. Thanks for the list. I'll keep you updated on how this all turns out.

[B-side]

Any chance you've got a link to the thread where these lists are posted in?

[B-side]

Any chance you've got a link to the thread where these lists are posted in?

Found it.:P

[Melville]

Found it.:P
I was just about to post it. Duncan's list (which is by far the most similar to mine, at least according to the above formula) is buried somewhere in the aforementioned failed top 100 thread, so you might want to dig it out of there. I guess I should have saved the intact lists rather than just the parts of them that I hadn't seen.

[Melville]

Warning: major spoilers.

What Happened Was… (Tom Noonan, 1994)
This is a movie for the broken people, the desperate people, the lonely people, the people who hide away from the world. At one point, Tom Noonan’s character says he’s writing a book for those people. But he’s a damn liar and he knows it.

The entirety of the film consists of a real-time depiction of a dinner date between two such people, just a man and woman alone in the woman’s apartment. With finely tuned dialogue and performances, with both humor and tension, the film reveals the moment-by-moment changes in the relationship between them: shifts in affection, power, perception of the other’s personality, perception of the other’s perception of one’s own personality; shifts subtle or overt, gradual or spontaneous. If anything, the dialogue is perhaps too precise in delineating these shifts, occasionally coming off as obvious in its construction.

But what is of most interest to me here is not these fine-grained movements in the relationship, but two overarching aspects that contain them. First, although no other characters appear in the film, the man and woman are acutely aware of the existence of others. The two do not merely exist for one another: they experience their interactions within the context of a plenitude of eyes, a whole social world around them and under the gaze of which their relationship falls. Typically, films do not emphasize this aspect of romance (if they acknowledge it at all), except perhaps in the concrete form of disapproving parents or neighbours. But Noonan’s film insists upon it immediately, by zooming in on all the people that can be seen through the windows of the woman’s apartment—the date occurs in an exposed world, in which all is at least potentially viewed by others, who are themselves exposed in the same manner. All around, infused into the experience of the date, is the potential for it to be seen and judged.

The second, more pervasive aspect that the film focuses on—and which is in some sense the foundation of all social interactions—is the power of the specific Other’s existence and gaze: not the diffuse haze of otherness across the way, but the concrete Other across the table. The Other’s gaze has the power to know you, to strip away the façade and see the festering wounds underneath. And at the same time, the Other refuses to conform to your expectations or idea of him or her: he or she is radically free of your conceptualization of the world, and this fact cannot be escaped…at least if you allow the Other to get under your skin. The two characters respond to these potentialities oppositely: The woman is anxious, eager to know the man better, to let him know her, and to let him know about the cake she bought and the book she wrote. The man, Noonan, hides behind a façade of composure, intellect, and scorn, afraid to know others and to be known: he wants the woman to know all about the book he is not writing, but not the fact that he is not writing it.

In the film’s two pivotal scenes, these opposite stances are pinpointed. In one scene, the woman reads the man a story she wrote. It’s a deeply personal work, a harrowing reinvention of the fairy tale genre; the woman is nervous about the man’s response, but she desperately wants to read it to him, to reveal herself to him. But the man is even more nervous about her revealing herself in this way. He’s uncomfortable with the openness, the intimacy. He wants everybody to behave as easily understood packages of traits, separated and closed off from one another. With heavy shadows and cuts to creepy dolls, the visuals wisely play up the frightful discomfort of the scene, the sense that something is being shown that the man fears. (And interestingly, during this scene the camera again zooms through a window to reveal an outsider in another apartment, again emphasizing the haze of otherness out there; the man is not merely afraid of intimacy, but of it altering his Being-in-the-social-world, the way he presents himself for the eyes of the abstract They.)

The second pivotal scene is the final one. In that scene, the man becomes so fearful of the situation that he gets set to leave for the night, pretending to be entirely oblivious to the woman’s pleas for connection. When she grows angry and correctly accuses him of disingenuousness, he admits that he is living a lie, that he is a broken man, a fearful man, an ashamed man who only likes to pretend to have written a book for such people, and who goes home everyday only to watch TV and lament all his failings. Finally, at this point, he wants the woman to know him, wants her to accept and comfort him. But it’s too late. He’s already screwed everything up. He’s been screwing it up for years.

Rating: 9/10

[Milky Joe]

What Happened Was… (Tom Noonan, 1994)
This is a movie for the broken people, the desperate people, the lonely people, the people who hide away from the world. At one point, Tom Noonan’s character says he’s writing a book for those people. But he’s a damn liar and he knows it.

Queued (so to speak).

[Melville]

Queued (so to speak).
Yeah, the ending is pretty devastating if you relate to the character at all. Also, in case my review didn't make it clear, Noonan is awesome.
http://i239.photobucket.com/albums/ff317/FaulknerFan/Noonan1.png

[B-side]

Great film.

[Boner M]

Queued (so to speak).
Charlie Kaufman has said that he's a huge fan of the film; I'm pretty sure Noonan's role in Synecdoche was a nod to WHW... (or Noonan's film/stage work in general).

'nother great review, Melville. Aside from L'intrus, we've been in quite the agreement streak lately.

[Milky Joe]

Charlie Kaufman has said that he's a huge fan of the film; I'm pretty sure Noonan's role in Synecdoche was a nod to WHW... (or Noonan's film/stage work in general).

Ah, THAT's Tom Noonan. Awesome. Queued even harder.

[Qrazy]

I think you should treat the 'random recommendations Qrazy gives me' as write ups... that is to say, Toby Dammit.

:)

[dmk]

What Happened Was… (Tom Noonan, 1994)
This is a movie for the broken people, the desperate people, the lonely people, the people who hide away from the world. At one point, Tom Noonan’s character says he’s writing a book for those people. But he’s a damn liar and he knows it.
Beautiful review
for a very beautiful film.

[Melville]

I think you should treat the 'random recommendations Qrazy gives me' as write ups... that is to say, Toby Dammit.

:)
Nah...

In brief, I thought it got a bit too silly as it progressed. It ended up being a good ghost story, but the early minutes had made me expect something more emotionally probing (not that the two things are mutually exclusive).


Beautiful review
for a very beautiful film.
Thanks.

[Melville]

Writing coherent paragraphs and putting them in any kind of order is unduly strenuous. So I decided to write something with some reason but no rhyme. As one might infer from the well-known dictum regarding the plans of mice and men, this decision resulted in more work being performed than a normal review would have required.

Code Unknown (Haneke, 2000)
Here follows a diagram schematizing the relationships between reality, the individual, and the film Code Unknown (by Michael Haneke).
http://i239.photobucket.com/albums/ff317/FaulknerFan/manifolds.png

The diagram is labeled with 8 symbols, each identifying a member of the following set of objects:

(!) a certain notion of “reality,” something that people can not perceive directly or as a whole, but only in certain assortments of indirect aspects and pieces. It transcends each individual’s circumscribed experience of reality; it may or may not be the empty set, or a purely abstract construct. If one has access to it, all things and relationships are made manifest; all can be known and understood; birds may or may not fly into one’s open mouth. A particular real situation is represented by a subset of the whole of the real, or a surface embedded within the topological structure formed by the totality of events.

(@) a particular individual’s perception or understanding of reality, confined to their particular perspective, emotional and intellectual qualities, social position, and set of perceived roles. The particular person is chosen arbitrarily to render the schema generically valid.

(*) a representative approximation to reality, one among a family of such approximations. The aforementioned arbitrarily chosen particular individual’s perception is the limiting approximation in this family. Successively higher members of the family are successively closer to reality.

(#) an approximation to a particular true situation, according to the aforementioned particular individual’s perception of reality. It fails to capture the breadth and movement of the true situation, becoming a surface of lower dimension and veering wildly off track. The true situation may involve, e.g., a disenchanted youth throwing an empty container, or an equivalent unwanted or used-up object, in a beggar’s lap. The aforementioned particular individual may view this as an ethically unacceptable event, and he may try to rectify it. He may cause something of a ruckus in doing so. However, his view of the situation is limited, and he is unaware that the beggar resides in the country illegally, and for her, an encounter with the police will result in deportation. It may be that the particular individual himself is arrested as a result of the ruckus he has caused. Despite this, he may proceed to think that he has done the right thing for the beggar in upholding her dignity. However, unbeknownst to him, the beggar will, in reality, be deported.

($) a quantity representing the impenetrable distances between the aforementioned particular person and all other people, obtained via a weighted average over all differences. Differences include race, social class, generation, nationality, and more generally, any difference in personal experience. The weight is assigned according to the degree of difficulty of overcoming these differences. Because the particular notion of “reality” being used in this scheme is a realm of infinite mutual understanding, the quantity here described also quantifies the distance between the particular individual’s perception and that reality.

(%) an attempt to communicate by the aforementioned particular person. This attempt may be verbal or otherwise. It is an attempt to reach another person, hence an attempt to go beyond the limitations of the particular person’s own perceptions. It is a mapping toward the real, where, it is hoped, it will be received by another individual, who, it is hoped, will retrieve the meaning of the communication via an act of interpretation; this mapping defines a path through the family of approximations. In all but the simplest scenarios, this attempt at communication will fail: it will not be correctly interpreted. The attempt at communication can also be inverted into an attempt at interpretation. This attempt, too, is rife with failure. One cause of failure is an inadequate understanding of the other person’s perception of reality, brought about by differences in race, social class, not having previously walked in nor currently standing in the other person’s shoes, etc; other causes include insufficient knowledge and the possibility that the other person is lying.

As an example, the particular individual may attempt to convey the weight of the ethical error of a youth who has thrown an unwanted item into a beggar’s lap. Because of contingent difficulties that arise, as well as the youth’s unwillingness to accept this communication, the particular individual’s frazzled response when confronted by the police, and a general air of commotion, the attempt fails. Because the particular individual does not have access to all the information contained in the situation, his failure leads to the undesirable consequence of deportation for the beggar, and so the attempt at communication fails doubly.

Because of these possibilities for error, many individuals are afraid to attempt to communicate. This failure to attempt to communicate can itself cause significant problems, including, in severe cases, serious injury or even death.

(^) Code Unknown (a film by Michael Haneke). This is a film structured as a code: a sequence of scenes, each consisting of one unbroken shot, that are separated by cuts to solid black. The scenes are not, to the best of the viewer’s knowledge, arranged in chronological order, and they survey a large cast of characters, most of whom are related only by tangential encounters or merely by occupying the same spatiotemporal neighborhood in one or more scene. Each scene conveys a discrete unit of information. It is left to the viewer to decipher the code and hence piece together the intricacies of narrative and theme. Most of the scenes center on a situation in which communication has failed at some level due to irresolvable distances. The film opens and closes with an extreme example of this: deaf children. It also displays numerous examples of problems in communication arising due to differences in culture and class, a concern perhaps especially relevant in modern multicultural societies such as France. Other instances of failures in communication operate at a metatextual level: the film shows us scenes from a film (or perhaps two films) within itself. Each of these scenes is initially presented in such a way that the viewer, lacking sufficient information, cannot distinguish them from the “reality” presented in the remainder of the film; only after initially misinterpreting the scene is the viewer provided with further information that makes clear that these scenes are from films within the film rather than from the film.

(&) the relationship between Code Unknown (a film by Michael Haneke), and an approximation to reality. This relationship is provided by an interpretive act on the part of the viewer, Melville, a name which is itself a code used on an internet forum, match-cut, to represent a physical and mental totality called a person, which person being unknown to almost all readers of said forum. The interpretive act begins with a scene of miscommunication and places it (perhaps incorrectly) within the context of a broader narrative and thematic framework; like the acts of communication and interpretation of the particular individual, it determines a path through the family of approximations of reality. The chosen thematic framework, inferred from the first few scenes and then applied to the later ones (and occasionally corrected), is the generic difficulty of communicating with others due to each individual’s circumscribed perception of the world. Other viewers, such as, let us say, dreamdead, may instead utilize a thematic framework built on particular cultural and social differences in modern France. However, in many cases, the interpretations will no doubt be the same. For example, only for the final few minutes does the rigidity of the film’s code break down: the final scene, rather than being completely separated from its preceding scene, is linked to it by music. Specifically, music from a multicultural celebration, celebrating, presumably, the bridging of gaps and/or the wonderment of a pluralistic society, carries over into a scene showing people whom have been made isolated by failures of communication. This is irony.

Rating: 7.5

[Qrazy]

Nah...


Wanker. If I ever put together a top 100 would you add it?

[Melville]

Wanker. If I ever put together a top 100 would you add it?
To this thread? No, I've still got about 50 reviews left to write, which is more than enough. Also, I'd have to see what number your list gets on the greatness index that I described above; your list would probably be in competition with Derek's. Of course, I'd like to see your list regardless.

I downloaded My Friend Ivan Lapshin a few days ago. I'll definitely let you know what I think of that one.

[Melville]

The Boxer from Shantung (Cheh Chang & Hsueh Li Pao, 1972)
I thought this was drastically better than The 36th Chamber of Shaolin. The story is pretty rote rise-and-fall gangster stuff (with the twist that the protagonist remains relatively noble throughout—'70s Chinese filmmakers seem to have a thing for upholding social values or something). But the familiar story is extremely well told. The film makes great use of multiple visual planes to create a sense of immersion and dynamism. It's got a lot of great, jazzy handheld camerawork. It uses its super-slick music very sparingly and effectively. And it's got a truly awesome, 20-minute-long, brutal climactic fight in which the hero smashes people through banisters and pillars and hacks at them with an axe that he dislodged from his own gut! The camerawork is especially good in that scene, becoming extremely dynamic and expertly capturing the force of the characters' motion. Another thing the movie does well is make cigarette holders into pure symbols of kung-fu-fighting-ganster-cool.

I don't know why nobody other than Davis ever talks about this movie. The final fight scene alone should be enough to make it famous.

Rating - 8

[B-side]

I should see more of these films. And by more, I mean I should see some of these movies period.

Although I did watch The Butterfly Murders from Hark earlier this year. 'Twas mediocre.

[Melville]

Los Olvidados (Buñuel, 1950)
Buñuel examines the lives of a group of youths living in the slums of Mexico city. I found the plot to be far too schematic in its presentation: poverty --> absent parents --> misguided, criminal youths; and the worst of the youths, the one who leads the others astray, is of course the one with no parents at all. Likewise, the dialogue is far too didactic: at one point, somebody even says, “if only we could lock up poverty instead.” On the plus side, the characters are moderately well developed, and there are a few compelling scenes (e.g. a slow-motion dream sequence that draws on Buñuel’s strengths). Overall, I was rather indifferent to the whole thing.

Rating: 6

[Bosco B Thug]

Los Olvidados (Buñuel, 1950)
Buñuel examines the lives of a group of youths living in the slums of Mexico city. I found the plot to be far too schematic in its presentation: poverty --> absent parents --> misguided, criminal youths; and the worst of the youths, the one who leads the others astray, is of course the one with no parents at all. Likewise, the dialogue is far too didactic: at one point, somebody even says, “if only we could lock up poverty instead.” On the plus side, the characters are moderately well developed, and there are a few compelling scenes (e.g. a slow-motion dream sequence that draws on Buñuel’s strengths). Overall, I was rather indifferent to the whole thing.

Rating: 6
I actually saw this one years ago, if on a really crappy VHS, but I'll go ahead and say I also remember not reacting to it very much besides that dream sequence you mention.

[Qrazy]

I share your reaction to the 36th Chamber of Shaolin, but I'd give it a slightly higher score just for a few of the training/fight sequences.

[Qrazy]

I should see more of these films. And by more, I mean I should see some of these movies period.

Although I did watch The Butterfly Murders from Hark earlier this year. 'Twas mediocre.

Hark is very hit and mess with me. Check out Shanghai Blues. It's light and funny.

[Melville]

La cérémonie (Chabrol, 1995)
In one intriguing sense, this is a Marxist allegory. Two working class women are alienated from their labours and their social roles. That alienation frees them from the entanglements of the social structure. In their freedom, they unite as individuals and work together to achieve a common goal. But these aren’t your typical members of the proletariat: they’re childlike sociopaths with schoolgirl giggles and bows in their hair. One of them is alienated primarily by her illiteracy, which puts her in a situation of perpetual lies and isolation; the other merely suffers from a severe case of ressentiment. The representative members of the bourgeoisie, who employ the illiterate woman as their maid, are kindly but condescending—talking about the maid as if she weren’t there, they exacerbate her alienation.

The film develops this situation with remarkable compactness. Right from the beginning, the score announces that something is deeply wrong and probably about to get worse. But then that score fades away for much of the film, and the plot continually develops in unexpected ways. Although the film’s aesthetic is primarily one of subdued naturalism, it manages to imbue small moments, such as the maid needing to read a grocery list, with palpable tension; and the film’s climax is almost excruciatingly tense (reminding me somewhat of Funny Games), partly due to very effective use of cross-cutting and Mozart. However, the tension is created not primarily via filmic techniques, but via the meticulous development of the characters and their situation, which creates a core of emotions and ethics for the scenes of tension. All in all, this is probably one of the best suspense films I’ve seen.

Rating: 9

[Melville]

Just to show that I don't always agree with Boner...

Waiting for Guffman (Guest, 1996)
I watched this one several months ago, so I have little to say about it…though I probably wouldn’t have much to say in any case. I liked some of Guest’s other comedies (e.g. Best in Show), but I thought this one was too restrained. The comedy just sort of sits there: rather than pushing the comedy, the film essentially just presents the viewer with potentially humorous situations; either the situations strike the viewer as funny enough to laugh about, or they don’t. In my case, for the most part, they didn’t.

Rating: 5.5

[dreamdead]

The Boxer from Shantung (Cheh Chang & Hsueh Li Pao, 1972)
I thought this was drastically better than The 36th Chamber of Shaolin. The story is pretty rote rise-and-fall gangster stuff (with the twist that the protagonist remains relatively noble throughout—'70s Chinese filmmakers seem to have a thing for upholding social values or something). But the familiar story is extremely well told. The film makes great use of multiple visual planes to create a sense of immersion and dynamism. It's got a lot of great, jazzy handheld camerawork. It uses its super-slick music very sparingly and effectively. And it's got a truly awesome, 20-minute-long, brutal climactic fight in which the hero smashes people through banisters and pillars and hacks at them with an axe that he dislodged from his own gut! The camerawork is especially good in that scene, becoming extremely dynamic and expertly capturing the force of the characters' motion. Another thing the movie does well is make cigarette holders into pure symbols of kung-fu-fighting-ganster-cool.

I don't know why nobody other than Davis ever talks about this movie. The final fight scene alone should be enough to make it famous.

Rating - 8

Glad to hear it. Davis is the one who naturally got me into this one. I think the film's biggest failing is that it doesn't have a R1 subtitled track, as my copy of it is maligned by some atrocious dubbing. And while that might be seen as a natural element of this genre at its most flamboyant, I think it hampers some of the immersion that I'd hoped to feel. And while the story is fairly rote (I sometimes wonder if these films don't operate with only variations of maybe two or three storylines), I think the camerawork is subtly excellent, with depth and clarity of spatial relationships at some of their peak in this film. And that ending is enough to make me through a rhapsodic score on it, anyway, since it features the best use of an operatic ending that I've seen in a film like this. The levels of excess allow it to reach those heights which it would have otherwise only glimpsed; given the brutality involved, though, I think it holds the pinnacle of this era of filmmaking.

[Melville]

I think the film's biggest failing is that it doesn't have a R1 subtitled track, as my copy of it is maligned by some atrocious dubbing.
Ah, I guess illegal downloading does have its advantages, as the version I saw was subtitled. I think dubbing definitely would have detracted from the rawness of the film. I'm curious how long the version you saw was. According to IMDb, different cuts of the film range from 76 minutes to 126 minutes. With all the dubbing and cutting, I'm beginning to empathize with Davis's complaints about the West's mistreatment of the genre.