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)

Triple Bill Mini Musings: The 80s, The Nuthouse, and the Desert...

The Informers:
Based on short stories by Brett Easton Ellis (American Psycho), this multi-stranded 1980s-set drama vaguely follows the lives of a collection of mostly unlikeable well-to-do types in Los Angeles. It looks the part, but we're so distanced from the characters (be they likeable or not) that you don't give a stuff about what's happening on-screen. Some of the characters drift in and out with little impact (let alone story) and even the ones afforded some kind of arc don't have an awful lot to do. Instead it feels like a series of half-established strands that are left half-resolved by the end of it ... now, intentional or not, it doesn't make for particularly good viewing. On the other hand American Psycho, and Rules of Attraction (both Ellis adaptations), got the mix right. They featured some downright loathesome characters but we were pulled along for the ride by them the whole way - we were invited into their respective worlds, whereas in The Informers you're kept at such a distance by a bunch of half-developed gits that you can't help but wonder why you've bothered to pay any attention in the first place.


The Ward:
Or "John Carpenter's The Ward" as it's otherwise known ... but quite honestly there's nothing in this pretty standard horror flick (set in a mental asylum) that suggests Carpenter's involvement. It could have been directed by anybody - and that's a real shame. It's nicely shot, but the plot is both thin and uninspired (rather disappointingly), so when the pretty decent final minutes rock up it's all a bit too little too late. In brief though, it's the 1960s, Amber Heard burns down a farm house and gets banged up in the nut house with a collection of other fruity-loop femmes. Cue disappearing girls, predictable LOUD NOISE 'scares' and a potent sense of a missed opportunity.


Rango:
Gore Verbinsi trades Pirates for reptiles and the Caribbean for the desert, but keeps Johnny Depp in this really rather rockin' CGI flick from Nickelodeon. The eponymous reptile - previously of home comforts - finds himself lost in the desert where he re-invents himself as Rango, a gun-slinging hero from the "far west" who once killed seven bad guys with one bullet (the seventh "died of infection"). Quite quickly he finds himself the new Sheriff in town - that being the town of Dirt - a dying frontier-style settlement where water is the commodity of choice and fast running out.

It's surprisingly really good fun - I expected it to be fun, but I wasn't expecting this much fun. Crammed with references going from the spaghetti westerns of Sergio Leone (especially in one inspired sequence at the end of Act II) to a brief but beautifully witty nod to Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas, it's a real blast. What's more it looks just incredible - and so it should considering the visual consultant was none other than the exceptionally talented cinematographer Roger Deakins, who performed similar duties on Pixar's WALL.E - indeed it's such a visual treat that it straight-up matches (and sometimes out-strips) WALL.E itself. There are numerous competitors to Pixar - who have a pretty spiffing track record - but none of them ever manage to match Pixar's deft balance of great storytelling, heart-felt emotion, and technical prowess ... but I think we've just found a true contender.

Quadruple Bill Mini Musings: New Year, New Musings...

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (2011):
The uniquely talented and ever-reliable David Fincher sidesteps the 'English remake syndrome' with aplomb by delivering an equal to the original Swedish-language film in which Noomi Rapace so memorably portrayed Lisbeth Salander, the punk-with-a-photographic-memory. Complimenting the Swedish version, David Fincher's take provides us with two same-but-different looks at one international best selling book about a journalist's investigation into the decades-old unsolved case of the murder of a girl - a member of the wretched Vanger family (a self-involved, in-fighting lot, some of whom were members of the Nazi party).

Fincher's vision is a perfect match for the subject matter; his precise direction and particular style are as darkly intriguing as the content of the dense script. Many of the scenes are brief, but crammed with information. At two-and-a-half-hours it is surprisingly pacy, however there is one issue - Salander (Roony Mara) and Blomkvist (Daniel Craig) don't share enough screen time. In the Swedish original they felt like a real pairing, whereas here they feel like two able-minded independent bodies who sometimes check-in with each other. That said, Mara's Salander is every bit as spring-coiled as Rapace's famous rendition, and interestingly Craig's Blomkvist is a slightly different character here - in the Swedish version he felt very much like a rumpled journalist with a hardcore agenda that bordered on vengeance at times ... in this version he's much more understated and stoic.

Each film does many things the same, but they also do a number of things differently in different ways, and each includes or excludes certain elements more or less than their counterpart. I very much enjoyed the Swedish film, and I very much enjoyed this.


Young Frankenstein:
Now I know where the dramatic musical sting in that dramatic chipmunk YouTube video came from. A must-see Mel Brooks comedy that I've finally got around to seeing. Gene Wilder, Marty Feldman, Peter Boyle, and Teri Garr - among others - make up a brilliantly talented and hilarious cast. This comedic rendition of the classic Frankenstein tale (Wilder plays the titular mad doctor's grandson) is a genuine, honest-to-goodness, laugh riot.


Silent Night Deadly Night 2:
It was only a couple of weeks ago that I saw The 41 Year-Old Virgin Who Knocked Up Sarah Marshall and Felt Superbad About It - the worst movie I saw in the entirety of 2011, and one of the worst I've seen in my whole life ... and now I've already found a strong contender for the worst movie I'll see in all of 2012. The first Silent Night, Deadly Night was a decent slasher - very much cobbled together - but decent, sinister, slasher fun nonetheless. The same cannot be said of the sequel - in any way, shape or form - in fact it's downright criminal that the producers charged money for admittance to this rip-off. Out of the first 40 minutes of the movie, a good 30-or-more minutes is - I kid you not - a trimmed-down version of the best bits from the first movie, as recounted (poorly) by Billy's psych-ward-dwelling brother Ricky. Considering that the budget was a quarter of that of the original, it's hardly surprising a third of the sequel is the original, but still - come on!

The adult Ricky may have the physical presence to be a killer, but he sure doesn't have the acting chops ... oh dear, does he not have the acting chops (here at least). Mustache-twirling maniacal laughs, crazy eyes, and scene-chewingly-awful line delivery is the order of the day here (have a look for the "garbage day" sequence on YouTube - it's the best part of the whole flick). Dull, boring, flacid, half-arsed, useless, inept ... I could easily go on. I've seen some cheap sequels in my time, but this really takes the biscuit - I was genuinely shocked by the sheer brass neck displayed by the producers in the first clip-heavy 40 minutes. Once again it's not so bad it's good, it's just rubbish - but, perhaps masochistically, it's so bad that you can only understand by viewing it for yourself ... but I'd rather be on the Naughty List.


The Green Hornet:
I never got around to seeing this superhero flick in the cinema, but catching up to it on Sky Movies has been a real joy - it's actually a really fun time. Michel Gondry brings his skewed style to Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg's cheeky & breezy take on a long-standing, but not-so-well-known superhero. Rogen plays Britt Reid, the son of a now-deceased newspaper mogul, who teams up with Jay Chou's Kato - an engineering, martial arts, and coffee-making master - to take on the crime boss of Los Angeles (as played with relish, and suprisingly good comedic chops, by Christoph Waltz - who was fresh off Inglorious Basterds at the time).

The third quarter of the flick is a bit saggy, Cameron Diaz's Lenore Case is mostly dispensible, and there's never quite enough of Waltz's enjoyably off-kilter japes as villain Chudnofsky - however, for the bulk of the running time it's really good fun. What's more it features one of the coolest movie cars since The Tumbler in 2005's Batman Begins.