Showing posts with label part. Show all posts
Showing posts with label part. Show all posts

Thursday, 12 January 2012

My Top 50 Personal Favourite Films of All-Time (2012) - part 1 of 3...

Go to: Part Two or Part Three

In May 2009 I compiled a list of my Top 50 All-TimeFavourite Movies, but then in 2012 I updated it, and now here we have the list updated for 2013 with a handful of tweaks.

Note: Each ‘ten slot’ is ordered alphabetically – it was hard enough compiling a list of 50 films out of the thousands I’ve seen during my life, nevermind ordering them all numerically!

Top 50: #1-10

Aliens (1986):
When I was a kid – long before I ever saw the it – I knew this was a seriously cool movie. My friends and I would frequently play Terminator or Aliens, and we’d bicker over who got to pretend to be Hicks (played in the movie by Michael Biehn), one of the coolest badass good guys committed to film. The first battle with the titular Xenomorphs and the operations room siege, are two key sequences for me – even after repeated viewings over many years they still get my adrenaline pumping; they are perfect examples of how to do action cinema correctly.

Back to the Future (1985):
The script is text book perfection – no scene is wasted, back story is constantly imparted, and the plot is tight and controlled. Seeing the third film in the trilogy was one of my earliest cinema-going memories, and indeed I can never watch the first film without following it up with the second two. Smart, witty, filled with mind-bending time travel technicalities, and endlessly quotable dialogue, Back To The Future is a true classic. My love for this film was further strengthened during its 25th Anniversary theatrical re-release – it was a joy to finally see it on the big screen, but even greater was seeing young parents bringing their children to share in their long-standing enjoyment of this fantastic film.

Blade Runner (1982):
The very first time I saw Ridley Scott’s sci-fi masterpiece (the 1992 Director’s Cut on a fuzzy Channel 5), it decidedly passed over my head. The special effects impressed me, but that was about it – it was most definitely beyond my years at that stage. A few years later I re-discovered it and began to appreciate it much more, and over the years that trend has continued. I now adore it as a visionary treat for the senses – a combination of classic film noir with a future dystopia. It might depict an over-crowded, smog-choked metropolis that seems to exist in a permanent state of neon-mottled darkness, but it’s simply beautiful and breathtaking to behold.

Dawn of the Dead (1978):
This is one of the movies that made me want to get into filmmaking. In 1997 I bought an issue of SFX which featured an article, and review, about George A. Romero and the release of the “Director’s Cut” (actually the Extended Cannes Cut) in the UK. I read and re-read this article, and from that point on it was my mission to see the movie. I fondly recall how I was so utterly gripped during my first viewing – for the entire 139 minute running time – that after the credits finished I just sat there with my open-mouthed in awe. Since then I’ve seen the film dozens of times and to me it’s simply the absolute best thing to happen in the zombie genre.

The Evil Dead (1981):
Bought for a fiver from the local post office bargain bin of videos, my first viewing of Sam Raimi’s grue-filled shocker was one of the most memorable viewing experiences of my life. It may have been a version that was cut-to-ribbons (it was released in the UK fully uncut a few years later), but there at 14 years old I was transfixed. The sheer inventiveness of how Raimi and his merry band of indie filmmakers put the flick together has been a constant inspiration to me over the years, and its reputation as Mary Whitehouse’s “number one nasty” just makes it all-the-more appealing.

Fight Club (1999):
Visually arresting and so well crafted, this is the ideal male movie for the modern era. It successfully combines a searing style with an acerbic wit that tempts the rebellious part inside all of us. Closely followed by Zodiac, it’s perhaps David Fincher’s finest outing as director.

Ghostbusters (1984):
During my childhood this was what it was all about – the movies, the cartoon, the action figures – this was (and still is) my Star Wars. As a child it inspired awe for its fantastic special effects and family friendly frights, but as an adult I was finally able to fully recognise and appreciate just how well written and downright hilarious the script is. This is one of those films that was seemingly on endless repeat on the VCR when I was a kid, and as such it’s utterly imprinted on my memory. Utterly, utterly, utterly superb.

The Good, The Bad & The Ugly (1966):
Sergio Leone’s “Dollars Trilogy” was what got me into westerns during my mid-teens, but it was the grand and sweeping scale of this epic ‘spaghetti western’ that proved most enduring in my memory. The score is fantastic, the editing is brilliant, the cinematography is lush, and the central trio of Eastwood/van Cleef/Wallach make this a perfect bloke’s movie.

The Maltese Falcon (1941):
During the first semester of the first year of my film degree at UEA, we saw a restored print of this iconic film noir for the Key Issues in Film Studies course. Before this point I had never really appreciated classic black and white movies, but a switch was flicked inside my mind during that screening – my first introduction to Bogart – and I’ve never looked back. Not only is it a very fine film indeed, but on a personal level it really blew the doors open in terms of the scope of my cinematic appreciation.

Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991):
I first saw this (in a heavily censored version) on BBC1 at just the right time – I was a young kid just getting into action films such as this, and it left a mighty impression. Pioneering in its use of CGI, T2 is one of the finest examples of action filmmaking. Like Aliens, the busted blocks come with intelligence, but also impressive skill when it comes to crafting adrenaline-fuelled sequences to drop your jaw.


Top 50: #11-20

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007):
Director Andrew Dominik went in a very different direction after his debut film Chopper with this meandering, wistful, hypnotically poetic western. Roger Deakins’ cinematography is sumptuous, the central performances are astounding (particularly Casey Affleck as the eponymous coward), the score is wonderful, and while it can very easily divide an audience (if your attention span is short, don’t even bother) I found it to be nothing short of spell-binding.

Blue Velvet (1986):
During my teens I struggled with David Lynch’s work (it took me the best part of a year to gradually work through all of Eraserhead, the director’s debut) and this was one of his films I didn’t ‘get’ at the time. Fast forward the best part of a decade and I came to appreciate it immensely after another two viewings. It’s perhaps Lynch’s most distilled and chilling examination of the seedy underbelly of a community that looks idyllic on the surface (a theme which he would then go on to explore further in the wonderful Twin Peaks television series). It’s horrifyingly beautiful to look at, entrancing to listen to (thanks to Angelo Badalamenti’s brooding-then-soaring score), and is one of Lynch’s most hauntingly memorable films.

Casablanca (1942):
My time at university studying film broadened my cinematic horizons and appreciation of film immensely, and initially this came in the discovery of the work of Humphrey Bogart. I found Bogart’s Rick – a booze-soaked, cigarette-choked, club owner hiding out in the eponymous town – to be unreservedly compelling. It almost goes without saying, but the writing, direction, cinematography, and acting all demonstrate great talent. You won’t find Citizen Kane on this list (although it too is an impressive and extremely important film), but here in its place is one of its most widely acknowledged contenders for the best film of all time.

A Clockwork Orange (1971):
In the UK, Stanley Kubrick’s self-banned ‘unofficial video nasty’, had quite the fearsome reputation – and its 1999 re-release (after the director’s death, and during an era of new-found liberalisation at the BBFC) coincided perfectly with my formative years. I was discovering a whole host of newly un-banned (and uncut) ‘video nasties’ (along with countless other films by the hundreds), but it was this one that become the poster child for me during my GCSE years. The book, the film, and the soundtrack proved to be quite inspirational to me at the time (don’t worry, not in the “ultra violence” way) during my 2-D Art GCSE. Of all the films on this list, it’s one of the ones that had the most tangible impact upon me.

The Dark Knight (2008):
Christopher Nolan has crafted himself a career filled with brilliant filmmaking. He so skilfully combines blockbuster action with intelligence and ideas, and The Dark Knight is a shining example of that. On the one hand you’ve got a long-standing and well-recognised superhero yomping around fighting crime with marvellous gadgets, and on the other you’ve got moral dilemmas aplenty for the characters to battle against in their hearts and minds. Richly textured, densely scripted, packed with pounding action, and a terrific penultimate performance from Heath Ledger as The Joker, make this downright superb … and then Nolan followed up with the equally brilliant Inception. Finally, I’ll always remember how – when the truck flipped end-over-end – a kid far back in the audience was so impressed that he screamed out “WOWEE!” – and I think that sense of awe and enjoyment sums it up nicely.

Goodfellas (1990):
My favourite Scorsese film, and aside from Scarface, my favourite gangster movie. In all facets – from the soundtrack to the script to the performances to the cinematography – it’s nothing short of enduringly memorable.

Rocky (1976):
Who isn’t inspired by the fictional underdog boxing hero of Rocky Balboa? The character is an icon for anyone who is downtrodden and looking for something better in life. It’s an inspiration to keep pushing forward, but above all that, it’s just an exceptional film made all the greater by the simple fact that Stallone really earned it.

Scarface (1983):
One of the very best rise-and-fall tales, and one of the finest gangster pictures ever made. Pacino, DePalma, Stone – a bravura creative team give us a stylish crime drama that draws you into all the murkiness and temptations of a cocaine-addled Miami in the 1980s. A grand, sweeping epic for the decade of excess.

The Thing (1982):
There are few films capable of scaring me, and not least by penetrating my mind with extremely potent themes of isolation and paranoia. John Carpenter was at the height of his talent and passion – indeed the same can be said of many of those involved. Just thinking about the movie gives me the creeps. Terror perfected.

Zodiac (2007):
David Fincher’s methodical examination of what happened to those who tried to solve the crime of 1970s America is like the antithesis to his previous serial killer thriller Se7en. Both films are excellent, but for different reasons. While Se7en is brutal and immediate and darkly stylish, Zodiac is subtle and slow-burn and almost nostalgic. With an extreme attention to detail, Fincher’s never been more precise.

My Top 50 Personal Favourite Films of All-Time (2012) - part 2 of 3...

Go to: Part One or Part Three
Top 50: #21-30

Clerks (1994):
Not only is it hilariously funny with sharp dialogue, but it’s a great slacker flick, and a great indie flick. The further into my twenties that I’ve got, the more it’s spoken to me, and as illustrated in the excellent making-of documentary “The Snowball Effect”, it’s one of those flicks that I enjoy even more because of the story behind its production.

Day of the Dead (1985):
After that 1997 issue of SFX, this was my first introduction to the films of George A. Romero. Bought on VHS from a local Woolworth’s (long before they went bust), my first viewing was one of awe. I’d never seen such tremendous gore effects before, Captain Rhodes proved to be an enduring screen villain, the score kicked arse, and it features the best on-screen zombie of all time – Bub. It’s a terrific zombie movie (as I often say, AMC’s The Walking Dead is the best thing in zombies since 1985) and it’s one that I saw at the most explosive time in my formative film-viewing years.

Die Hard (1988):
My favourite Christmas movie of all-time, and one of the best action movies ever made. It’s tough, sweary, violent, and it stills holds up to this day with ease.

Heat (1995):
The first time I saw Michael Mann’s epic and stylish ‘cops and criminals’ thriller, it was all a bit ahead of me if I’m perfectly honest. Then years later I rediscovered it on DVD and suddenly the appeal was there. Beautiful camerawork, perfect performances, and one of the best movie bank robberies ever shot, make this simply splendid.

High Fidelity (2000):
I always dug this flick, but it wasn’t until several years later that I really came to value it. It’s got a cool script, excellent performances, and it’s a tip-top ‘hang out’ movie. What’s more, the way the protagonist organises his life and his memories around his music very much appeals to me, as I do the very same thing, albeit with cinema.

Pulp Fiction (1994):
Achingly cool, this was one of those flicks that gave you immediate cred in the school yard when you could say you’d seen it. Upon its initial release it whipped up a bit of a storm here in the UK due to one particular sequence of drug use – so it had an air of danger about it – and that just made it all-the-more appealing. However, beyond all the elements that tempted all of us kids in high school to see it, it’s just a really damned good flick.

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010):
When I saw it in the cinema I was aware of the graphic novels, but that was it. As such it mostly flew over my head, but after I read the books and got the flick on Blu-Ray, I got absolutely obsessed with it. Edgar Wright’s inventive style blends seamlessly with O’Malley’s slacker-action genre-meld, and while it’s disappointing to see it didn’t do stellar business at the box office, it did become one of the best cult movies this side of the millennium. Brash, stylish, and with brilliant sound design, it’s a genre-splicing arse-kicker with heart and an unbreakable sense of appeal.

Shaun of the Dead (2004):
It may be a comedy, but this Wright/Pegg/Frost runaway success was the best thing to happen to the zombie genre in a very long time indeed (well, until AMC’s The Walking Dead came along). Chock-full of zombie movie references for the die hard fans of the genre, it combines a dizzyingly good script with charming performances, gore, and even genuine heart.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974):
Picture the scene – it’s the middle of winter, I’m eating dinner, and for the very first time I’m watching The Texas Chainsaw Massacre on a fudgy 3rd generation dubbed copy on VHS. That’s how these movies should be viewed – during those mid-teen years of cinematic discovery on a scruffy copy from a friend – it has a sense of illicit, rebellious danger to it. This viewing experience, for me, sums up why I’ll always be a child of the video era.

Tremors (1990):
I saw this early enough in my childhood that I sought to emulate it – recreating scenes in Lego while dressing similar to Kevin Bacon’s character Val – and over the years it’s become not only a fond memory of my youth, but also an example of perfect screenwriting. Like Back to the Future, no scene is wasted – everything drives the plot forward with new information – the pacing is spot-on, it’s quotable, and it’s utterly and totally enjoyable. Plus – Burt!


Top 50: #31-40

American Psycho (2000):
The source novel was a brilliantly dark slice of satire; it cut the decade of excess to ribbons with a disturbed glare and a vicious wit. Christian Bale’s performance as Patrick Bateman – a Yuppie version of Norman Bates via Leatherface – is as chillingly cool as the film itself.

Apocalypse Now (1979):
A journey into madness both on and off-screen, Francis Ford Coppola’s re-mixing of Heart of Darkness for the Vietnam era is an extraordinary filmmaking achievement. Its journey to the silver screen was a long and arduous one, but it unleashed a vast war movie for the ages.

The 'Burbs (1989):
A favourite from my childhood that has endured countless viewings over the years, and as such it is imprinted on my mind like only a few others. To those of a certain age it’s a fond trip down memory lane with memorable quotes galore, but what’s more when I think about it, it was really my first introduction to the horror genre. I was fascinated by a clip of a chainsaw-wielding maniac, and an infamous gushing of pea soup – which in later life I discovered were clips from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, and The Exorcist respectively.

The Devil's Rejects (2005):
A sleazy, down-and-dirty, yet blackly comic punch-in-the-face horror movie. The opening siege and shoot-out kicks the doors open with gusto in Rob Zombie’s best filmmaking effort thus far, which goes on to boast graphic violence, terrific characters, magnificent editing, and the best use of Lynard Skynard’s “Free Bird” to date. After the onslaught of Scream-clones in the late 1990s and very early 2000’s, Zombie’s gut-punch was a lurid, nasty and extremely good antidote.

Escape From New York (1981):
John Carpenter at the height of his game, Kurt Russell as one of his most iconic characters (Snake Plissken), and featuring Dean Cundey’s neon-smeared photography, this future dystopia action flick is a 1980s genre classic.

Grindhouse (2007):
It was never released in-full in the UK after a less-than-stellar box office run in the USA, but eventually I got to see it in its ‘double bill version’ (before which I had watched Planet Terror and Death Proof in their extended, separate forms) and I absolutely loved it. As a big fan of Rodriguez and Tarantino’s work this was a delight for me – especially as I’m a huge fan of this kind of cinema anyway. Planet Terror is a bloody blast, the fake trailers are an adrenaline rush of tongue-in-cheek nostalgic sleaze, and personally I absolutely loved Death Proof (which divided audiences).

Hobo With A Shotgun (2011):
Jason Eisener’s 1980s-grindhouse-cinema-inspired crimson-choked arse-kicker is a bloody good time from start-to-finish, especially for fans of this kind of flick. What’s more, the genuine indie spirit and heart behind the making of the movie makes it all the more entertaining and indeed meaningful – here we have a bunch of genre fans from Nova Scotia getting the chance to make their own spiffing genre movie. Without a doubt it’s my favourite movie of 2011.

L.A. Confidential (1997):
Curtis Hanson’s deeply cool 1940s-set detective thriller didn’t initially appeal to me when I first saw it, however like a few entries on this list, I came to greatly appreciate it upon a second and third viewing several years later. Everything about this sumptuously shot film is luxurious – the superb cast and their performances, the labyrinthine script, and the sharp direction. It’s one of the very best high quality prestige pictures to come out in the last twenty years.

The Matrix (1999):
After a couple of bloated back-to-back sequels, the initial impact of the Wachowski Brother’s influential milestone action sci-fi outing may be somewhat diminished. However, casting my mind back to 1999 and watching it in my local independent theatre with my Dad, it was a cinema-going experience not to forget. It was the film to see that year and it blew the doors off seemingly everything at the time.


The Shawshank Redemption (1994):
In the original 2009 list, and then in the 2012 update, I forgot to include this flick. It's one of those movies that never fails to hook me in when it's on TV – I intend to just watch a few minutes, and I'll end up watching the whole thing. Iconic, memorable, quotable, and beautifully realised on the screen, Frank Darabont's adaptation is simply incredible.

My Top 50 Personal Favourite Films of All-Time (2012) - part 3 of 3...

Go to: Part One or Part Two
Top 50: #41-50

Adventureland (2009):
There have been a handful of recent releases that have really made an impression upon me, and Gregg Mottola’s reflective 1980s-set coming-of-age film is one of them. It’s a ‘transformative summer movie’ where the protagonist undergoes a watershed of personal growth over the summer months, and Mottola’s movie is all-the-more impressive and touching in that it makes you wish that the summer of growth Jesse Eisenberg’s James Brennan experiences was your own.

The Big Lebowski (1998): 
Another one of those films that never fails to hook me in when it's on TV. Hugely quotable dialogue, utterly hilarious throughout, and Jeff Bridges is absolutely legendary as The Dude, and he heads a cast that has no weak links. Classic Coens.

Casino Royale (2006): 
I was introduced to James Bond with Goldeneye, but it wasn't until Casino Royale that I really started to get into the whole series, and with repeated viewings (again, one of those films you can't tear yourself away from) it just got better and better. Skyfall was brilliant, but Craig's first outing as Bond has become my favourite in the long-running franchise.

Friday the 13th Part IV: The Final Chapter (1984):
Out of all the big-name slasher-masters, Jason is my slice-and-dicer of choice, and while Sean S. Cunningham’s franchise opener remains a tightly crafted indie horror writ large, I’ve always had a preference for the third sequel (the not-so-final-chapter of the long-running franchise). Tom Savini’s gore effects are excellent, the script actually makes you care about the characters before dispatching them left-right-and-centre, and it features perhaps the best non-Hodder rendition of the central antagonist.

Mulholland Drive (2001):
I’m very glad that I didn’t get around to seeing David Lynch’s seductive, Hollywood-set neo-noir until a decade after its premiere, as it would have no doubt left me utterly baffled as a teenager. However, after properly getting into and understanding David Lynch’s work in the last couple of years, I was able to dive right into this dark dream of a film. For me it’s Lynch’s best work, second only to Blue Velvet. Much like Angelo Badalamenti’s heartbreakingly beautiful score, this film is simultaneously hypnotic, mysterious, dark and twisted.

No Country For Old Men (2007):
While I’m not a rabid Coen Brothers fan, their films have rarely failed to impress me. It’s a great film to watch from the perspective of a student of film as the mechanics and construction of the film exhibit expert accuracy. The sparse plot is classic Coen Brothers territory, where greed corrupts an everyday man and leads to no end of bloodshed. Unsettlingly cool in its calm pursuit of methodically unfolding a cat & mouse chase, it’s also a real joy to simply watch – thanks to Roger Deakins’ astonishing cinematography.

Sin City (2005):
It’s a rough and tough comic book movie that is perhaps the most successful comic-to-movie adaptation ever made. Born from Frank Miller’s excellent, pulpy source material, this stylish and deftly executed flick drips cool like no other.

The Shining (1980): 
I've always loved this movie, but it was one that I overlooked in 2009 and 2012. However, on Halloween night 2012, I attended a screening of the film (in the extended American cut) with a packed audience who were totally invested in the movie. For the first time I noticed just how hysterical and shiver-inducing the stunning soundtrack was, and having been alerted to the impossible lay out of The Overlook Hotel itself, I tumbled further down Kubrick's haunting rabbit hole. A milestone in cinema history.

Shutter Island (2010):
For a long time prior I was longing for a great movie set in a mental asylum, and Martin Scorsese finally provided just that with this B-Picture-with-an-A-budget. Dark, brooding and unnerving in its paranoia-inducing pace, even after three viewings I’m still finding new depths to the script.

Sunshine (2007):
The music, editing, pacing and stunning visuals of Danny Boyle’s nicely crafted flick really impacted upon me in the cinema – so much so that during certain sequences I found myself gripped the armrests of the seat like I was undergoing an enjoyable version of the Ludovico technique from A Clockwork Orange. I couldn’t turn away from the screen, so the film’s ability to capture my attention so assuredly earns it a spot in my Top 50.


Top 50: Honourable Mentions



2001: A Space Odyssey (1968): 
This was yet another case of seeing the movie before I was ready to fully appreciate it. Thankfully, upon rediscovery, I found it to be transfixing. Thematically it’s intriguing, visually it’s stunning, and technically it’s a marvel.

American History X (1998):
Few films wield the power to simultaneously move, anger, demoralise and uplift – but this one certainly does.

Battle Royale (2000):
Stylish, bold, original - a landmark entry in Japanese cinema.

Batteries Not Included (1987):
I could easily put Short Circuit, or The Money Pit in this slot, but out of these three – all of which were decided childhood favourites – this one made the biggest impact upon me. I’m sure The Towering Inferno made quite the impression on young boys who saw it, and I can imagine that the inferno that engulfs the decaying housing block inspired a similar sense of awe in me. It might sound a bit iffy, but as a kid I’d repeatedly draw versions of that sequence – to an outside observer that might look like a pyromaniac-in-waiting, but I can assure you that instead it was just a film fan expressing how blown away he was by the spectacle of that sequence.

Enter The Void (2010):
Gasper Noe’s head-splitting wrecking ball might be lazily paced and at times rather blunt in its thematics, but it is a visual experience unlike any other. From the perspective of a newly deceased drug dealer (high on DMT) we swoop and twirl and spiral through the neon-dripping streets, alley ways, apartments, and adult establishments of Japan’s seedy underbelly. Visually it’s a remarkable film – most notably in the climactic ‘Love Hotel’ sequence. Hell, the opening titles alone leave you firmly blown off your feet.

In Bruges (2008):
Some black comedies promise a deft mix of darkness and light, but boy does this wonderfully non-PC tale of two assassins hiding out – in Bruges – properly deliver on the promise. The swings from utter, eye-opening hilarity to utter, eye-opening darkness, and back again are truly marvellous.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956):
Much like John Carpenter’s The Thing, this film routinely sends shivers up and down my spine. The crisp black & white visuals, inherent paranoia, and the McCarthyism/Communism thematics of the script make this a smart sci-fi chiller that remains just as potent to this day.

Last House on the Left (1972):
The story behind the making of this cult classic ‘rape-revenger’ is fascinating, but Wes Craven and Sean S. Cunningham’s down-and-dirty sleazy slice of fleapit horror is a cinematic milestone. Contextualised by a Vietnam-weary America, the glut of perversion that befalls two partying teens – and then befalls their captors – must have been rather shocking upon its initial release (a release that inspired countless grindhouse releases thereafter).

Lord of the Rings (2001 - 2003):
Truly, truly epic … the elaborate production alone was, and is, a massively impressive achievement – but what’s more it’s a modern classic that made a long-standing literary masterpiece accessible to the masses without sacrificing depth or quality.

Napoleon Dynamite (2004):
The last couple of semesters at university in the final year were an increasingly stressful period, and in our off-campus house tensions began to flare. Then, in the midst of the fallout from a row (long story), one of our housemates introduced us all to this runaway cult success. Any tension and ill-feeling vanished in an instant – and permanently – and for weeks afterwards it was practically on an endless repeat in our household as we’d constantly quote from it to each other.

Rabid (1977):
Bought from the same local post office (also for a fiver) as The Evil Dead was, I first saw David Cronenberg’s gritty viral movie during my formative years. Fast forward to my film degree and the Canadian & Quebecois Cinema course (one of my favourite courses during my three years at university) and I’m analysing it in the context of Canadian socio-economic politics in the 1970s. It’s a superb film, but it also reminds me of the best times I had learning about cinema to a graduate level.

Se7en (1995):
Visually striking, and directed with style and dark meticulousness, few movies have the power to continually creep me out, even after multiple viewings. However, David Fincher’s extreme slice of serial killer thriller is so relentlessly gloomy, gritty and tough, that it can only be admired and feared at the same time.

United 93 (2006):
A few films will elicit a keenly felt response from you, but even fewer will elicit a physical response from you – and so it was with Paul Greengrass’ horrifyingly true-to-life telling of the events of September 11th 2011 from the perspective of those connected to the ill-fated flight. The first time I watched it, during the inescapable final moments, I was so moved by the dramatic recreation on-screen that I leapt out of my chair, punched the air, and screamed out – my reaction to those chilling final moments was visceral to say the least.

Vanishing Point (1971):
Embodying the independent spirit of seventies cinema, this is one of the best car movies ever made. The Dodge Challenger is a beautiful machine (so much so that it features prominently in Tarantino’s Death Proof) and this flick is a magnificent cinematic specimen of the era.

WALL.E (2008):
Johnny 5 from childhood favourite Short Circuit sticks out as a long-standing loveable robot in my eyes, so it was inevitable that I was going to adore his descendent WALL.E in Pixar’s exceptional sci-fi. With Roger Deakins acting as a visual consultant, it is without a doubt Pixar’s best-looking film to date, but matching the looks with smarts, the virtuoso animators excelled at making what was for the most part a silent film. The fact that we can truly invest in the fate of two robots from very distinct eras of mechanical engineering just goes to show how talented the Pixar folks are at crafting peerless animated films.


Removals:
I still love and/or greatly respect these movies, but with ten new additions to the list, ten films had to be removed. The reasons varied: some were for nostalgia, some were for recent influence (that has since faded) when originally compiling the list, some were misjudgements resulting from list-making fatigue, and some were because – upon reflection – they didn’t quite cut the mustard to remain in the list.

All The President's Men (1976)
Animal House (1978)
Brokeback Mountain (2005)
Critters (1986)
From Dusk Till Dawn (1996)
The Money Pit (1986)
Rambo (2008)
Screamers (1995)
Short Circuit (1986)
The Warriors (1979)

Tuesday, 21 December 2010

My most memorable movie viewing experiences #6...

Graduate and Beyond:

The Descent (Neil Marshall, 2005):
When – Summer 2005
Where – Home Video
Why – It was sunny outside, it was the middle of the day, and I was watching the flick on my computer on a relatively small screen – and yet despite the setting, Marshall’s ‘chicks with picks’ claustrophobic horror managed to creep me out and cause me to jump on several occasions. Even with further viewings on DVD it still manages to chill, which in the world of modern horror movies really a special achievement.


The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (Andrew Dominik, 2007):
When – 2008
Where – Home Video
Why – The titular sequence in Dominik’s luxurious western haunted me for days and days afterwards, but more than that, the entire film was a sumptuously shot slow-burn film with a superb soundtrack. A viewing just recently on DVD recaptured that same impression and I just absolutely loved it.


Eyes Wide Shut (Stanley Kubrick, 1999):
When – January 2009
Where – Home Video
Why – I’d never watched Kubrick’s final film when it originally came out – at a time when I was busily devouring numerous titles from his back catalogue (repeatedly, in some cases) and indeed it took me a decade to finally get around to seeing this after getting the Director’s Series Stanley Kubrick 10-disc DVD box set. Kubrick’s films had long since become a once-in-a-blue-moon event, so it was nice to have this one that I still hadn’t seen – his final film no less – to devour and re-experience the uniqueness of Kubrick’s visions. It’s not perfect, and not his best, but the sense of occasion and the passionate attention to detail was something to behold in itself.


United 93 (Paul Greengrass, 2006):
When – Summer 2006
Where – Home Video
Why – Greengrass’ frenetic re-telling of the tragic fate which befell the passengers of United Airlines Flight 93 on September 11th 2001 was a perfectly paced and horrifying affair. The tension and impending tragedy of the situation ratchets up with expert timing, until the final sequence in which the passengers storm the hijackers and attempt to regain control of the plane was nothing short of totally-and-physically arresting. Those last minutes of the film, right before the devastating cut-to-black was beyond an edge-of-my-seat experience, so much so that when the passengers first attacked the hijackers I literally leapt out of my chair, fist thrashing into the air, and exclaimed “get those bastards!” (or something to that effect). I can’t think of any film that I have ever seen that has had such a profound and physical effect upon me. Astonishing.


Martyrs (Pascal Laugier, 2008):
When – 2009
Where – Home Video
Why – It’s not a particularly common thing for a horror movie to properly creep me out – not just give me a shock jump – but to genuinely get inside my head and stay there like a nasty infestation. So decisive was the effect of watching this somewhat ‘existential torture’ horror flick, that I had trouble getting to sleep that night, and it remained lurking around in my mind for some time afterwards. Now and then a film will come along that will really get inside your head and trouble you and Martyrs was such a film.

Monday, 20 December 2010

My most memorable movie viewing experiences #5...

Uni Years:

The Maltese Falcon (John Huston, 1941):
When – Autumn 2002
Where – Campus Screening Room
Why – My three years doing my degree in Film & Television Studies was a time when my eyes were opened to a whole host of films that I would have never watched beforehand, and one of the big new things for me was in the first semester of the first year on the Key Issues In Film Studies course when we had a print screening of the Bogart version of The Maltese Falcon. My mid-semester essay was to do with the style of the film, and I became a Bogart fan – consuming Casablanca (one of my all time favourite films, along with The Maltese Falcon), Key Largo, and The Big Sleep in quick succession in the following weeks – and as a result of this tale of Sam Spade, the 1940s has become one of my favourite periods of cinematic history.


Saving Private Ryan (Steven Spielberg, 1998):
When – Mid-2000s
Where – Off-Campus Bedroom
Why – While I’d already seen the movie a handful of times since not long after its original release, it was during the Lucas & Spielberg course that I came to do an essay on the opening Omaha Beach sequence – a shot-by-shot breakdown in fact, and when you consider how many shots there are in that first 25 minute sequence, it was an arduous task. Every few seconds I’d be pausing the DVD – sat there in my cramped 6ft by 8ft bedroom – and writing down exactly what was happening on screen and how it would fit into my analysis. I’ve rarely studied a sequence in that much detail, and as a result producing that essay has stuck in my mind ever since.


E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial (Steven Spielberg, 1982):
When – Mid-2000s
Where – Campus Screening Room
Why – Again during the Lucas & Spielberg course, one of the weeks focussed on E.T. – a film that I’d enjoyed as a kid, but for some reason had come to really quite dislike during my teenage years … I’m not entirely sure why, but I was so switched-off to the movie for some reason. Quite to my surprise then, was when we watched the movie together as a class, and I got totally invested in it. What’s more, it actually choked me up, and as a result my opinion of the movie (which had become bitter for no discernable reason) performed a total 180.


La Jetee (Chris Marker, 1962):
When – Mid-2000s
Where – Campus Screening Room
Why – During the Photography & The Arts course, on which I did an in-depth analysis of the visual language of Antonioni’s Blow-Up, a film which really struck me was La Jetee – the film which went on to inspire Twelve Monkeys. The music, the static visuals in their high contrast black and white brilliance, the dark and weird sci-fi plot – it all left a lasting impression.


Saw (James Wan, 2004):
When – 2004
Where – Off-Campus Bedroom
Why – It’s easy to forget now, as a result of annual sequels of diminishing quality, clarity and box office draw, that the original Saw was a grotesquely dark and brilliant indie horror flick that came like a bolt out of the blue. It was truly chilling in its approach to truly chilling subject matter; its violence was stunningly graphic (and not at all expected or old hat as what the sequels produced), and the big reveal at the end literally left my jaw slung low with shock – in fact that entire reveal, brilliant industrial score included (which still sends shivers down my spine to this day), haunted my mind for quite some time afterwards.


Duel (Steven Spielberg, 1971):
When – Mid-2000s
Where – Campus Seminar Room
Why – Less of a viewing of the movie, and more a group presentation of a theory regarding one particular sequence. Once again on the Lucas & Spielberg course, my group and I had drawn the latter’s stunningly gripping debut chase movie, and we proceeded to – jokingly – argue that the entire movie was an allegory for male rape. We argued (with the rest of the class in on the joke, but not the lecturer, whose Modus Operandi for reading movies consistently skewed towards more Freudian territory) that the great big brute of a truck was raping the effeminate little red car and that it was all to do with sexual dominance in the male species.

Now, there is an argument that can be made for such a reading, or part of such a reading – and we were half-serious about it – but it was this deliberate, joking escalation of the theory into perverse territory that has become one of my fondest memories of film school. In fact the lecturer rather liked our theory!


Napoleon Dynamite (Jared Hess, 2004):
When – Spring 2005
Where – Off-Campus Living Room
Why – During the spring semester of our final year at university, tensions and divisions were beginning to present themselves within our group of four in our off-campus house. Personally I found the final six months of university to be quite a stressful time for various reasons, and after a few blow-outs amongst the group, we needed something to regain the sense of fun and unity that had summed up the first two years of our time at uni.

That movie was Napoleon Dynamite and it was introduced to us all by one housemate who was quite taken with it. We sat down to watch it – a background tension in the air – and within twenty minutes we were all laughing uproariously at the quirky indie-com. The movie became the last big thing that we as a house were all about, and we watched it many times – practically quoting the script verbatim as it would play, and not even when we were watching it, just during a normal day. It was such a thing of the moment, for me at least, that I’ve not yet re-watched the movie since – only the odd moment here or there when it’s been on television – however, when I do, I’m sure it’ll take me vividly right back to those final weeks of university when everything got back on track in the house and we all got that sense of fun back.

Wednesday, 15 December 2010

My most memorable movie viewing experiences #4...

Formative Years - Part Two:

Hellbound: Hellraiser II (Tony Randel, 1988):
When – Late 1990s/Early 2000s
Where – Television
Why – Having seen the first movie on a grubby dubbed copy, I recorded the second some time later from the TV, and proceeded to begin watching it whilst eating my lunch. The reason this viewing is memorable is that when it got to the scene where a mental patient believes her skin is scrawling with maggots – and we see her arms from her perspective to be doing just that – I actually had to turn it off in order to continue eating. That’s the only time – so far – that that has happened.


Black Christmas (Bob Clark, 1974):
When – Early 2000s
Where – Television
Why – One shot specifically, on my first viewing of the early slasher flick, wigged me out – namely the wide open eye staring through the gap in the door without the person on the other side knowing. One time when I was a kid I saw a movie on TV – a ghost story type affair – and at one point a man was pushed down a flight of stars and died when he struck the bottom, and they cut to an extreme close up of his wide open eyes. It freaked me out as a kid, and that discomfort with wide open eyes has stuck with me – so that particularly shot in Black Christmas gave me the creeps big style.


Terminator 2: Judgment Day (James Cameron, 1991):
When – Late 1990s
Where – Television/Home Video
Why – I first saw it on the BBC (and it was cut for violence and language), and I foolishly taped over my VHS recording of that broadcast, and no sooner had I done so than I wanted to see it again. It never showed on TV again and eventually, after a long time of waiting, I got it on video and was surprised to see that it was unlike the movie I was used to – namely it was uncut. Finding T2 on video became a mini mission at the time, like some sort of elusive Holy Grail, so when I finally got my mits on it again it was like a big old slice of victory cake.


A Nightmare on Elm Street 1 & 3 (Wes Craven, 1984 & Chuck Russell, 1987):
When – Late 1990s
Where – Home Video
Why – Before I was allowed to watch full-on horror movies at home (I remember being disallowed from watching the first movie when it showed on Channel 4), I got to see the first and third movie over at a friend’s house one night, and it was an illicit thrill to be watching this horror movie I’d heard so much about in the dark. Sneaking around watching horror movies you weren’t allowed to occur for a finite time, and it was a time that certainly made a lasting impression.

Although it wasn’t always horror movies – indeed one of the best examples of a forbidden movie fruit for a good while was the at-the-time-controversial Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction – the former for its tabloid-baiting violence, and the latter for its tabloid-baiting drug use. Whether it was watched on television, or dubbed from a friend’s dub, watching certain movies at a certain point in my life was a secretive thing – movies perceived to be too violent, or too scary, or a bad influence – but it’s just the sort of thing that young teenage boys do. You get bragging rights, and you ascend to the ‘seen it’ club for that flick, and it’s a style of movie watching that so epitomises being a teenager.


The Fog (John Carpenter, 1980):
When – Late 1990s/Early-and-Late 2000s
Where – Home Video
Why – On a school art trip to London, in the time we were afforded afterwards to go hunting around the capital, we stopped in at the huge HMV and – at the age of 14 – bought this 15 rated John Carpenter horror flick. It’s kind of daft and lame now, but at the time it was a thrill to ‘trick the system’ and pass for a year older than I was. However I didn’t much care for the movie on my first watch – I found it slow and far from explicit – but then I rediscovered it several years later and I thought it was genuinely creepy, and a fantastically tense ghost-story-style tale.


The Blair Witch Project (Daniel Myrick & Eduardo Sánchez, 1999):
When – 1999/2000
Where – Video Rental
Why – At the time the Internet wasn’t in widespread use, and I certainly hadn’t had much experience of the web, so word of a movie such as this was spread person-to-person. Was it real? Many people believed so, although I was only half-convinced … if it really was real, and people had really died, how would they be allowed to release it in cinemas and home video, and create a line of merchandise for it? Regardless, that final sequence proved to be the scariest part of the flick for me. It’s long since been absorbed by the popular culture, but at the time there was a special air about this indie shocker.


Eraserhead (David Lynch, 1976):
When – 1999
Where – Home Video
Why – On holiday in Edinburgh in the summer of 1999, we stopped into HMV and three videos were bought for me (being that I was underage, not that the wise till jockey cared – indeed he commended my taste) – those videos were Graveyard Shift, Evil Ed, and David Lynch’s bizarre debut. I’d never seen a Lynch movie before and its sheer power (in terms of the weird and the disturbing) freaked me out too much. As a result I was only able to watch the movie in portions of 5, 10, 15 or 20 minutes – with long gaps in between – it probably took me a good several weeks/few months to see the entire movie, and I’ve not seen it since … but I have been meaning to. Did it leave an impression? You bet it did.


The Thing (John Carpenter, 1982):
When – Mid 1990s and beyond
Where – Television
Why – I was about 10 years old when I first saw John Carpenter’s sci-horror-gore-fest, and initially it fascinated me for the special make up effects. However, as time has gone by and I’ve grown up, the themes of isolation and paranoia have really captured my imagination and built up into a genuine mild fear of the movie. It has become an intimidating flick – just like the equally superior Se7en – that is one of my all-time favourites, but one that sits on the shelf daring me to watch it. When I finally do watch it from time-to-time it’s never quite as horrifying as my mind has led me to believe since my last viewing, but nevertheless, the expertly crafted sense of isolation and paranoia linger aggressively for days afterwards.

Tuesday, 23 November 2010

My most memorable movie viewing experiences #2...

Childhood Favourites:

Ghostbusters 1 & 2 (Ivan Reitman, 1984, 1989):
When – Late 1980s/1990/Early 2000s
Where – Television/Home Video
Why – Ghostbusters was my entire world in my earliest years. The movies, particularly the first, the spin-off cartoon The Real Ghostbusters, and a whole array of toys (including the Proton Pack, which was a must-have kids toy for Christmas – my Dad successfully acquired one for me FYI) … suffice to say, bustin' ghosts was a big deal.

I just thought the Ghostbusters were the coolest guys on the planet, and I would repeatedly watch the show and the movies. Then when I moved into my teenage years I got wrapped up in a whole bunch of other movies and it wasn’t until my second or third year at university that I rediscovered the two flicks on DVD and it was a fantastic re-introduction to what was still a childhood favourite in my mind.

This time however, at the age of 20/21, I suddenly understood all the adult jokes and comedy, and it was like watching a whole new movie, but at the same time as watching one which I knew so well it was like it was in my bones. Sound effects, musical cues, lines of dialogue, the pacing of the editing etc – so ingrained in my memory from repeated childhood viewings. What’s more it was my first chance to see the flicks in their original aspect ratio – as a child I had no understanding of the horror that is Pan & Scan, and in the VHS era everything was Pan & Scanned.


Back to the Future trilogy (Robert Zemeckis, 1985, 1989, 1990):

When – Late 1980s/Early 1990s/Early 2000s/2010
Where – Television/Home Video/Cinema
Why – Like the Ghostbusters, I thought Marty McFly was one of the coolest guys on the planet – but throw in a time travelling DeLorean (I was, like most boys, fascinated with cars) and a tip-top script and they had my attention. I was only a year old when the first movie came out, so it wasn’t until it was shown on television/home video that I got to see it. Then the back-to-back sequels came out, but I can’t remember if I saw the second one on video or at the cinema. However, one of my earliest cinema-going memories was seeing the third film on the big screen.

Similar to Ghostbusters, a number of years went by without seeing any of them, and so I rediscovered them on the 3-disc DVD box set several years ago. Yet again it was like no time had passed, and thanks to multiple childhood viewings, the dialogue, sound effects, music, and everything in-between was as fresh in my memory as it had been a good fifteen years prior.

Finally, with the 25th anniversary of the first movie, I got to see the original flick on the big screen - and even though I'd seen it dozens of times, it was a superb experience, which I wrote about at-length here: http://deadshed.blogspot.com/2010/10/back-to-future-25th-anniversary.html


Short Circuit 1 & 2 (John Badham, Kenneth Johnson, 1986, 1988):

When – Late 1980s/Early 1990s/Early 2000s
Where – Television/Home Video
Why – As far as I was concerned as a kid, Johnny Five was alive, and being a small boy I was fascinated by robots. Looking back on the films today, as the Nostalgia Critic has done, there are some questionable elements to the films, but I guess it was a more innocent time - and as a kid, nothing about the flick was questionable.

Yet again, fast forward to my second or third year at university and I rediscovered both films on DVD, and once again my memory of them was so strong that I could anticipate the sound effects, music cues, pace of the editing and so on. My love of these two movies came flooding back, from the sense of wonder of the first film, to the final act of the second movie which packs two memorable punches - Five's attack, and Five's capturing of the bad guy. What's more I got to see them in their original aspect ratio at long last, which is particularly important for the first film, which has been dreadfully Pan & Scanned in the past (a recent showing on Channel 5 was quite possibly the most horrendous Pan & Scan job I've ever seen).


Jurassic Park (Steven Spielberg, 1993):

When – 1993/2010
Where – Multiplex Cinema
Why – In the summer of 1993 the movie to see was Jurassic Park. I went crazy for this movie, looking forward to the weekend matinee showing with such anticipation it was like an early Christmas. Then there we all were, in the darkened cinema, watching dinosaurs come to life – at the time the CGI was like nothing we’d seen before and was truly a marvel to behold – but aside from the fantastic effects (both CG and practical), it was Spielberg doing what he does best. The pacing is ideal and the action sequences are tense and impressive, but even more than that the characters were interesting.

That summer was all about Jurassic Park; it was without a doubt a phenomenon. I read the kid’s version of the book, the comic book run, got the making-of book, and went nuts for it on video. Then, yet again, I didn’t see it for many years until 2010 when I rediscovered it on Sky Movies. The movie was still fresh, still tense, still exciting, and the assured pacing remained impressive – more-so now that I’m of an age (and film education background) that I can seriously appreciate just how good the movie is and how it holds up so well. It’s amazing to think that come 2013 it’ll be twenty years old.


Batteries Not Included (Matthew Robbins, 1987):

When – Late 1980s
Where – Television/Home Video
Why – like with Short Circuit, I was fascinated by robots (in this case robot space aliens that recycle scrap metal and feed on electricity), but it was also the spectacle of this crumbling old apartment building that really captured my imagination. However, the sequence that truly fascinated me was, perhaps oddly, when the building burns down. It was a thrilling experience to see that, and – weirdly – it became a little bit of a obsession with me. I would draw versions of that sequence over and over in my drawing books as a kid, not that I was some kind of arsonist-in-waiting, but it was the spectacle of that sequence that really grabbed my attention.

Looking back I think that that sequence, among other favourite moments from the movies listed here, that helped plant the seed in my mind that filmmaking was what I wanted to do in life – something that I wouldn’t finally realise and figure out until I was 18.


The Money Pit (Richard Benjamin, 1986):

When – Late 1980s
Where – Television/Home Video
Why – I think the unrequited Architect in me was drawn most to this movie (the same part of me which is drawn to Channel 4’s Grand Designs), and I became fascinated with this crumbling old mansion (particularly the collapse of the staircase). It’s funny how certain things can grab you as a child, and this was one of those cases – I wasn’t fussed about the plot (I'd frequently fast forward to the point where they'd arrive at the house), I was just interested in Tom Hanks’ trials and tribulations with this unmitigated disaster of a fixer-upper.

It's still a fond favourite of mine, even if it was a bit of an 80's rip-off of Mr Blandings Builds His Dream House (H.C. Potter, 1948), and it always manages to transport me back to the TV room in the first house I lived at ... so more of a personal favourite than a critical favourite, but so what, eh?

Friday, 12 November 2010

My most memorable movie viewing experiences #1...

Best Silver Screen Experiences:

Dog Soldiers (Neil Marshall, 2002):
When – Summer 2002
Where – The Savoy Theatre, a small independent theatre.
Why – not only was it a thoroughly enjoyable werewolf flick, and Neil Marshall’s debut, but it spooked us so much that on the way home we were all creeped out by what could be out there in the darkness of the woods and fields all around us.

Sunshine (Danny Boyle, 2007):
When – Spring 2007
Where – Cineworld Multiplex
Why – Danny Boyle’s sci-fi actioner was so well shot, edited and scored that I felt truly moved by the whole experience of seeing it. Rarely have I literally been gripped to my seat when watching a movie, my heart-beating faster and faster during certain tense sequences (such as mending the sun shield). The flick’s physical impact upon me as a viewer was what really cemented Sunshine in my mind as a great cinema experience.

The Dark Knight (Christopher Nolan, 2008):
When – July 2008
Where – Cineworld Multiplex
Why – I’d rather enjoyed Batman Begins, but Nolan’s all-conquering sequel was the event of 2008. A friend and I went along to a morning showing, and while he preferred Iron Man, I got totally swept up in it all. The time flew by for me, so involved was I in the twists and turns of the tale, but the moment that really stuck in my mind was when during one sequence an entire articulated truck does a front flip into the air and, several rows behind us, a young boy screamed out “WOW!” with genuine awe and wonder. It summed up what I thought of the movie, and it made me smile just hearing such an enthused reaction.

The Pit and the Pendulum (Roger Corman, 1961):
When – November 2006
Where – The Cube Microplex, Bristol
Why – in 2006 I went to the Bristol Bloodbath Film Festival (my short film VHS was being shown as part of a series of indie shorts), and the first film on the schedule was this Roger Corman flick. I’d never seen it, nor many Vincent Price roles, before and I really quite enjoyed it. However, what made this a memorable screening was the print itself – here we are sat in a half-remodelled independent theatre somewhere in the depths of Bristol, and the print is rough, gritty and raw. It broke down entirely two or three times, the reel got jammed, and even when running just fine it was full of damage. It was still certainly watchable, but this particular viewing just had so much character and charm, and it reminded me of some of the screenings we’d have at Univeristy of restored prints. It felt like a real grindhouse experience.

Boy Meets Girl (Ray Brady, 1994):
When – November 2006
Where – The Cube Microplex, Bristol
Why – again at the 2006 Bristol Bloodbath Film Festival, this was the third film on the schedule the day that I attended (which, if I remember correctly, was Saturday the 26th). Even with short breaks between films, it was this third one in a row – one with its own history of controversy and moral panic around it, and one which is undeniably brutal on the viewer – that really drained me. I began to feel like I was experiencing the Ludovico Technique, and was really quite glad when we had a break afterwards. It’s a good movie, and a tough movie, but it was even tougher in the circumstances in which I viewed it.

Drag Me To Hell (Sam Raimi, 2009):
When – 31st May 2009
Where – Cineworld Multiplex
Why – so often on documentaries and featurettes about classic horror films have I heard statements along the lines of “the audience just went nuts, everybody was screaming!”, and I was beginning to wonder if this was just filmmaker hyperbole. Fast forward to the lads and I viewing Sam Raimi's return to the horror genre, and what became quite possibly my all-time favourite cinema-going experience as the entire audience bucked and weaved in their seats as the tension and shocks worked their full fun-house magic upon them (and us). The audience was all in it together, chuckling at isolated mutterings of tense desperation, and laughing at themselves after a good scare. As I’d said before, I'd thought that these sort of audience reactions were essentially hyperbole by filmmakers on retrospective documentaries, but with this film I experienced exactly that kind of atmosphere for myself – and it was fantastic.

Avatar 3D (James Cameron, 2009):
When – 20th December 2009
Where – Cineworld Multiplex
Why – say what you like about James Cameron’s block busting eco-flick event-of-the-year about 10ft tall blue alien cats, I rather enjoyed it, and what’s more I enjoyed the spectacle of the event itself. I’d never seen a movie in 3D before, let alone this new fangled “it actually works” 3D, and so – with the theatre packed with people – we all got thoroughly stuck into the visual wonder of the 3D effect, and the fully realised world of Cameron’s Pandora. 3D is still an imperfect gimmick, but for the duration we were all transported to Pandora.

GoldenEye (Martin Campbell, 1995):
When – November 1995
Where – The Savoy Theatre
Why – I’ve never really gotten into the James Bond movies before Pierce Brosnan’s debut as the gadget-carrying, heavy drinking, shag machine secret agent, but I’ve seen all of them after (and including) GoldenEye. I went to see it with my Dad at the same small independent theatre where I saw Dog Soldiers (and several other flicks), but at the time it had recently re-opened. The décor was unfinished and the heating wasn’t working, but there I was as an 11 year-old, just me and my Dad, enjoying the hell out of it.

The Matrix (The Wachowski Brothers, 1999):
When – June 1999
Where – The Savoy Theatre
Why – once again at the same small independent theatre, now in my mid-teens, and just me and my Dad, sat on the stiff seats with my jaw on the floor as I witnessed the movie event of that year. We were both blown away. It was just awesome, 'nuff said.