I began this endeavor last February and now, after counting down 90 of my favorite movies, I’ve arrived at the Top Ten. It’s been grand fun for me—I’ve enjoyed revisiting each of these films and have delighted in reading comments from others who hold them in esteem. Thanks for all the wonderful feedback. Click
here to read the complete list from 100-1. And now, without further discourse, here is (as Miss Jean Brodie would say) the crème de la crème.
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| Bronson as the mysterious Harmonica. |
10.
Once Upon a Time in the West – "Epic" and "sprawling" are the words critics frequently used to describe this now-revered 1968 Spaghetti Western. Yet, despite its lengthy running time and visually massive backdrop,
Once Upon a Time in the West focuses tightly on the relationships among four people over a relatively short period of time. These characters are: Frank (Henry Fonda), a ruthless gunfighter who aspires to be a powerful businessman; Cheyenne (Jason Robards), a rascally outlaw with killer instincts; Jill (Claudia Cardinale), a former prostitute in search of a more meaningful life; and a mysterious revenge-minded stranger whom Cheyenne calls Harmonica (Charles Bronson). It took multiple viewings over the span of several years for me to fully appreciate Sergio Leone’s masterpiece. In the end, I was won over by its fascinating characters, overarching theme, Ennio Morricone’s score, and some marvelous set pieces (especially the opening and climactic showdown between Frank and Harmonica).
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| Don't you love Doris's hat? |
9.
Lover Come Back – There aren’t many comedies in my 100 Favorite Movies and only two in the Top 10—there just aren’t that many films that tickle my funny bone. A major exception is this bright 1960s laugh fest with Rock Hudson and Doris Day as advertising rivals. To distract Doris, Rock comes up with a fake product called Vip. He even films commercials for the fake product—which are, unfortunately aired on TV. To avoid criminal charges on fraud, he hires a Nobel scientist to invent something that could be passed off as Vip. Meanwhile, Doris mistakes Rock for the Vip inventor and he plays along. It’s a classic “snowball comedy” played by a cast of pros, including Tony Randall and Edie Adama. But the main attraction here is the pairing of Doris and Rock in their best outing. This is the film that reminded me that Rock Hudson was an exceptional comedian, as evidenced by his expert timing in the delicious scene when he tries to seduce Doris.
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| Tippi as another Hitchcock blonde heroine. |
8.
Marnie – When I first saw Marnie as a teenager, it made no impression at all. I thought Tippi Hedren was miscast and Sean Connery dull. The plot--what there was of one--seemed thin and the characters lacked interest. Decades later, I watched it it again and, to my complete surprise, I loved it! Tippi Hedren's subtle detached performance made Marnie a vulnerable, intriguing character. The progressively complex relationship between Marnie and Sean Connery’s character generated suspense--in its own quiet way--worthy of Hitch’s best man-on-the-run films. I was captivated by Hitch's finest use of color (especially during the opening scenes). And finally, there was Bernard Herrmann's incredible score (which, for me, ranks second only to Vertigo among his Hitchcock soundtracks). I've often wondered how I missed all of this the first time around?
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| Bing and Danny singing "Sisters." |
7.
White Christmas – There was a time when I grumbled because
White Christmas was shown every Yuletide season while
Holiday Inn (1942) only made sporadic appearances. Most critics consider the latter film, in which the song “White Christmas” was introduced, to be the superior musical. It was only after my wife and I acquired both films on video that I recognized the virtues of
White Christmas. It’s a near-perfect blend of music and comedy, with the cast and crew at, or near, the peak of their careers. The dance numbers are staged energetically, with the highlight being Danny and Vera-Ellen dancing outside a nightclub to the melodic “The Best Things Happen While You’re Dancing.” Crosby and Clooney generate a more subdued, but no less effective, chemistry. Their duet “Count Your Blessings” was the big hit song from the film. The most effective pairing in the film, though, is the one between Crosby and Kaye. They’re a sensational team, whether doing musical numbers or comedy (their version of “Sisters”, done originally as a joke on the set, is hysterically funny).
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| The quartet on their way to Oz. |
6.
The Wizard of Oz – When I was growing up, the annual network broadcast of
The Wizard of Oz was a big event. I never failed to watch it. It’s so much a part of my movie-watching DNA that it’s hard to describe its appeal other than to say it’s one of the most perfect films ever made. The cast, the characters, the themes, the sets, the costumes, the music—does
Oz fail to earn a top grade in any of those categories? But for me, the most amazing aspect of the film is this: Despite the thousands of pop culture products derived from the film over the last 70-plus years—which are more than enough to overwhelm even a dedicated fan—I never tire of watching
The Wizard of Oz.
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Danny and Basil in their delightful
duel (snap!). |
5.
The Court Jester – My favorite comedy is a spot-on, delightful spoof of swashbuckling films. In a rare role worthy of his talents, Danny Kaye gets to sing, dance, use funny voices, contort his expressive face, and excel at physical comedy (such as walking in magnetized armor). The supporting players are all at the top of their game, too. Basil Rathbone has a grand time parodying past roles such as Sir Guy of Gisbourne in The Adventures of Robin Hood. Angela Lansbury displays a deft comedic touch, while Cecil Parker steals his scenes as the bored king whose only interest appears to be “wenches.”
The Court Jester also includes Danny’s most famous routine—the one that involves the pellet with the poison in the chalice from the palace, the vessel with the pestle has the brew that is true, and (finally) the flagon with the picture of a dragon (which is used for the brew that is true after the vessel with the pestle is broken). And did I mention that Danny and Basil Rathbone engage in the funniest sword duel in the history of cinema?
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| Gort melts a tank...how cool is that? |
4.
The Day the Earth Stood Still – If there were a Hall of Fame for Timeless Movies, then one of its founding members would be
The Day the Earth Stood Still. I've probably watched it at least once every decade since I first saw it on NBC's Saturday Night at the Movies in the 1960s. When I was a youngster, the film's fantastic elements--and Gort, the coolest robot in the history of cinema--appealed to me. When I was a teen, its stern warning about the perils of nuclear war resonated with me. With each subsequent viewing,
The Day the Earth Stood Still has revealed something new: presenting itself as a Biblical analogy, an editorial on the influence of media on public opinion, a portrait of fear of the unknown, etc. Its themes never fail to thrill me…making it much more exciting than any action-oriented sci fi film.
3.
Anatomy of a Murder – Otto Preminger’s enthralling courtroom drama requires multiple viewings to be fully appreciated. When I first saw it, I focused on the riveting story, which treats the viewer much like the jury. We listen to testimonies, watch the lawyers try to manipulate our emotions, and struggle to make sense of the evidence. When I saw it a second time, I knew the case’s outcome and was able to concentrate on the splendid performances. James Stewart, Arthur O’Connell, and George C. Scott earned Oscar nominations, but the rest of the cast is also exceptionally strong. In subsequent viewings, I’ve come to appreciate the film’s well-preserved details, from the small town upper-Michigan atmosphere to Preminger’s brilliant direction (e.g., in one shot, as Scott cross-examines a witness in close-up, Stewart—the defending lawyer—is framed between them in the background).
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| Talk about doomed love... |
2.
Vertigo – This richly-layered masterpiece reveals its big twist when least expected--turning the film on its proverbial head. It causes love to blur with obsession and greed to give way to guilt and perhaps love. What we see at the bell tower is initially false, but ultimately true. I could go on and on…but, hey, whole books have been devoted to this film. I think it’s Hitch’s best job of writing (as usual uncredited) and directing…plus we get superb performances (especially from James Stewart), a marvelous San Francisco setting, an unforgettably disturbing score from Bernard Hermann, and nifty Saul Bass titles. Like all great films, I glean something new from it or appreciate another facet every time I watch it. My latest viewing reminded me just how brilliant James Stewart is in the lead. In a career filled with fine performances, I think Stewart does his finest work as a typical Stewart “nice guy” who evolves into a man obsessed with an illusion. Contrast Scotty’s (Stewart) playful banter early on with Midge with his climactic confrontation with Judy—his eyes ablaze with confusion, hate, and something akin to love. It’s a brilliant and chilling transition.
1.
The Adventures of Robin Hood – For many readers, I’m sure it comes as no surprise that
Robin Hood occupies the No. 1 spot on my list. For me, it shares many traits with
The Wizard of Oz in that, from top to bottom, it’s a flawless film (well, except for one tiny continuity gap). The early Technicolor color is rich. Michael Curtiz, who took over the film from William Keighley, keeps the pacing tight. Errol and Olivia, one of the great screen couples, exude celluloid chemistry. Basil and Claude make for dastardly villains. And the supporting cast, from Alan Hale to Una O’Connor, is incredible. My favorite aspect, though, is that it’s the ultimate “let’s form a team” movie. As discussed in this blog before, I hold a special affection for movies in which one character recruits others to form a team to accomplish a goal (e.g.,
The Magnificent Seven,
The Dirty Dozen). There’s nothing as satisfying as watch Errol assmble his Band of Merry Men. As for that one tiny flaw in
Robin Hood, watch where the sword lands when Basil drops it on the staircase and note how it magically moves courtesy of a continuity gaff. Those are the kinds of things one notices when watching a favorite film a few dozen times!
1. With which of the following gentlemen did Barbara Stanwyck make the greatest number of movies: Gary Cooper, Joel McCrea, or George Brent?
2. Name at least two films featuring Barbara Stanwyck and Margaret Lindsey.
3. How many times did Stanwyck work with Clark Gable? Name the film(s) and the director(s).
5. Name the Olivia de Havilland films in which Ward Bond makes an appearance. Name the leading men in each film.
8. Who Said This? "We'll be right back with more stuff!"
One of the most peculiar movie-watching experiences I’ve had took place when I was in college, somewhere between three to 30 years ago. My very last semester was over, I’d more or less passed my finals, and I was packing my things to move out of my apartment. My apartment was slightly smaller than a hole in the wall, the rooms -- living area, bathroom and bedroom -- only accessible by dancing the grapevine. The offset that was deemed “the kitchen” by the assertive landlord had likely been conceived by an M.C. Escher fan, a convoluted, seemingly impossible design in which opening the refrigerator door would result in your left elbow banging against the right side of your head.
I had turned on the TV for noise, not because I couldn’t work in quiet but because I was trying to drown out my neighbor’s perpetually thumping bass. Then, at three o’clock in the morning, a station started running Orson Welles’ 1946 movie, The Stranger. Orson behind the camera. Orson in front of the camera. Edward G. Robinson and Loretta Young. That sounded good to me. Unfortunately, even sitting on a park bench with scratchy butt comforters (aka the couch) and leaning close, I was still only seeing an illuminated gray. So I knelt in front of the television, as if in prayer, the TV an altar. I planted my face mere inches away from the screen to watch Edward accuse Orson of being a Nazi and participating in war crimes. My eyes watered frequently, not so much from the dramatic engagement as from my ill-advised proximity to the TV and the cathode ray tube searing my corneas. During commercials, I would stretch my legs with a series of grapvines around the apartment, like a drunken Electric Slide (although, let’s be honest, anyone who dances that looks drunk). I also performed some blinking exercises and kept looking at my hands to verify that I could still see something. I think it’s a testament to the movie’s preeminence, that I would willingly suffer through all of that just to watch it.
Answers: Roger Staubach and Terry Bradshaw.
4. Name a mid-1950s film that inspired Bruce Springsteen to compose a song with the same title.
6. Name a film featuring both Pamelyn Ferdin and Teri Garr.
Ante Meridiem Theatre is a place to focus on movies that used to crop up on television late at night into the early morning hours. This month, I thought I’d stick with the theme of Movie-Watching Memories and share with you the things that can happen when you stay up past your bedroom for a movie.
On the top floor, my stepfather, mother, sister and brother slept. When it was this late, watching anything on the TV in the TV room (my stepfather’s TV) was a little like juggling knives in the dark. You’d have to stand and listen by the stairs for any creaking to allot yourself ample time for fleeing. Fortunately, the stairs to the basement were adjacent to the TV room. On this particular night, however, the TV room TV was no better than the basement one. So I opted for the TV in the dining room, an ironic location as we were never allowed to watch TV while eating. The movie was Stripped to Kill (1987), which, of course, I had to see because I’d already seen Stripped to Kill II (aka Live Girls/1989), and I wanted to see if the first film would help the second film make more sense. As it turns out, they’re only related by title.
I’m sure it’s happened to anyone who’s an avid fan of movies. You’re watching something, and then suddenly you’re not. An hour or so into the movie, and it ends, but much earlier than intended. Maybe you’re at the theatre, and the film falls off the reel. Or you’re at home, and a thunderstorm knocks out the dish. Or you’ve rented a DVD, and the previous renter got his grubby hands all over the playing side and thought the best thing to do would be to clean it with his raggedy shirt, and the movie’s final thirty minutes are pixelated garbage because the disc looks as if it’s been scrubbed with sandpaper.
The first time I can remember missing a rather significant chunk of a movie was when my siblings and I stayed with our aunt and uncle. My uncle pushed a VHS copy of George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (1968) into a VCR. I was only 10 years old and had never seen it. The movie opens with a spooky drive to the cemetery as Johnny and Barbra visit their father’s grave. My sister wondered aloud why Johnny was putting on black leather gloves, and the potential reasons seemed feverishly endless. Johnny deliberately scares his sister: “They’re coming to get you, Barbra!” And suddenly a man appears, but he’s really a ghoul, and he attacks Johnny, and Johnny hits his head on a tombstone, and is he dead? No time to check, as Barbra runs to the car, locks herself inside, but oh, no! She doesn’t have the keys, Johnny does, and seriously, is he dead? The ghoul smashes the car window, and Barbra shifts into neutral, and the car starts rolling to prospective safety, and it looks as if she’s made her escape, but the car hits a tree, and she has to jump out, and --
I was most affected by a premature ending with Alfred Hitchcock’s Marnie (1964). I’d recently discovered the British auteur and was on a massive run of Hitch films. I saw that Marnie was going to be on TV, and for whatever reason, I had to ask my sister to set the VCR for me. There I sat, following along with Marnie’s thievery and the wavering relationship between Marnie and James Bond… or, well, Sean Connery’s character. Then Marnie’s riding horseback, and her horse is wild, and it hurdles a stone wall, collapsing from an injury. Marnie is horrified, and she retrieves a pistol and returns to her fallen steed. Hitch’s camera is aimed at her hand as she lifts the revolver, hammer cocked and --
1. Name the two NFL teams playing in the Superbowl in the film Black Sunday.
6. Name two films in which Henry Hull played the same character. Who were the stars of the aforementioned films?
7. Who were the directors of the two films in the previous question?
Star one: your theme music. Dramatic and memorable—just like you Ms. Scarlett. Whenever I hear it I immediately think of the lush green gardens of Tara (and the burning of Atlanta, too—damn those Yankess, Miss Scarlett, damn them!), Ah, and just like you were robbed by those damn Yankees, composer Max Steiner was robbed by the Academy when he lost the Oscar to some silly guy named The Wizard of Oz—now you know that’s not a decent, Southern gentleman’s name, Ms. Scarlett. Of course, it only makes sense that you would have one of the most memorable film scores ever, Ms. Scarlett, as you are the most memorable female film character in history. Every badass needs a badass theme song, Ms. Scarlett, and rest assured, when your overpriced barouche is cruising the streets of Charleston (or Savannah, Atlanta, etc.) people know what badass is coming. 
Ms. Scarlett, you would look good in anything. While I don’t know how wise it is to wear a green and white dress to a BBQ, I still think you make it work—and that green ribbon that attaches your hat to the rest of you could be used as a napkin if need be. What I’m saying is, you know how to make any dress work. Take for example the white ruffle dress—some people would look like a roll of toilet paper gone wrong, but somehow it looks flouncy on you. Another example is the red garnet gown that you look ultra-fierce in. Some people just couldn’t work those feathers and the gauze-veil thingy, but you rock it. And, who but you could make a dress out of green velvet drapes seem stylish (sort of)? Granted, it was because of those damn Yankees that you had to rip those curtains down and wear the tassels as an accessory belt, but we can’t blame the dress for the circumstances into which it was born. 
Star three: your crew. Rhett Butler (Clark Gable) may have left you in the end, but while he was with you he was the man in charge. Your scenes together alone could have burned down Atlanta—damn Yankees. I have to admit, I just couldn’t understand why you were always after that loser Ashley Wilkes (Leslie Howard) when you had a man like Rhett around. Was it that he rejected you, Ms. Scarlett? You were just too much woman for that weak man! He needed a calm woman like your cousin Ms. Melly, so he could continue the cycle of inbreeding. Melly, now there was a woman who knew how to endure, Ms. Scarlett. Just think of all the insufferable things Aunt Pittypat (Laura Hope Crews) said over the years to that poor girl! And you thought listening to Prissy (Butterfly McQueen) and Mammy (Hattie McDaniel) all the time was almost too much to bare. 
left you some worthless Confederate money—damn Yankees!). When you didn’t have the money to pay the taxes on Tara you and your drape dress found Frank Kennedy. When the damn Yankees came calling you shot one dead. To me, this is a can-do attitude. Plus, you always know you are the most interesting woman in the room. Of course, you do have a touch of willfullness and a rather nasty temper, but Irish blood runs hot! Now, if I had to make one constructive suggestion to you it would be this: get over your procrastination issue. Tomorrow might be another day, but sometimes that day can turn out to be really crummy. Still, I like the can-do attitude about getting your man back. 
Movie patrons want to escape. They fortify themselves with popcorn, sodas, and candy. They settle in their seats waiting to be entertained and to watch a story unfold. Or, they might also just be trying to exchange a hot summer night for a cool, dark place to hang out without breaking the bank. 
The movie fare that summer was intense. The moments I remember best included first marveling, then being bored, by the long shots of the redesigned USS Enterprise in beginning of Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Samantha Eggar licking clean one of her “children” in David Cronenberg’s The Brood. David Warner fighting killer bats in Nightwing. And Season Hubley helping a confused George C. Scott search for his runaway daughter in Paul Schrader’s dark Hardcore.
The Princess Theatre was built in 1892 and was often renovated to compete with newer theatres. It competed with several local opera and vaudeville houses before becoming a fulltime movie theatre in 1936. The exotic glazed relief terra cotta tile façade of the Princess Theatre was redesigned in 1923 and the auditorium doubled in size, in the hope of making it competitive with the recently built Indiana Theatre, a few blocks away. My favorite movie theater is now gone, killed in 1985 by the falling roof of its extended auditorium. The façade remains. So do my memories. 
