5 Films You Think More People Should Have Watched

So  Rohan Berry asked me and others to name five films, from 1970 onwards, that you believe more people should have watched. Doubtless I'll think of many more as soon as I hit "publish" on this post, but these were five that sprang to mind immediately. What would you add?

Shoot The Moon (Alan Parker, 1982) 

We talk about break-up albums, but not break-up movies so much. Sharply-observed, by turns funny and disturbing, with startling performances from Albert Finney and Diane Keaton as the couple falling apart, Shoot the Moon is one of the finest.

Limbo (John Sayles, 1999)

Sayles's gloriously confounding Limbo starts as an Alaska community portrait-cum-midlife romance morphs into survival thriller mode and ends in some extraordinary existential terrain all of its own. I vividly remember the gasps in the cinema at the final cut to black. (Bonus point: also includes one of the best-ever versions of Richard Thompson's "Dimming of the Day".)

Séraphine (Martin Provost, 2008)

Provost's biopic of the painter Séraphine de Senlis, endowed with oddity of genius by Yolande Moreau in a terrific, tough-minded performance that never once descends to sentimentalised caricature.

RAGE (Sally Potter, 2009)

Potter's innovative, mutlti-vocal meditation on the rag trade and a whole lot more besides. Also the only film (so far!) in which you get to see Judi Dench light a joint.

Le Refuge (Francois Ozon, 2009)

I wrote at length about Ozon's beautiful duet when it was released.

A Life in Movies Blogathon

Andy at Fandango Groovers has invited bloggers to participate in the "A Life In Movies" blogathon: a list of favourite films from the year we were born up to 2010, one title for each year. Nearly as hard as the Cinematic Alphabet meme but just as much fun. And compiling this list has reminded me of  several films I'd like to revisit very soon.

1980 - The Shining (dir. Stanley Kubrick)

It might not have pleased the novel’s author very much, but Stanley Kubrick’s film, departing fairly radically from its source at times, still remains perhaps the most striking and memorable of all Stephen King adaptations.

1981 - Atlantic City (dir. Louis Malle)

Louis Malle and John Guare’s fairly unclassifiable collaboration mixes elements of crime drama, comedy, love story and fairy-tale to create one of the most distinctive  American movies of the period. Great work from Burt Lancaster and Susan Sarandon.

1982 - Shoot the Moon (dir. Alan Parker)

We talk about break-up albums, but not break-up movies so much. Sharply-observed, funny, raw and disturbing, with memorable performances from Albert Finney and Diane Keaton as the couple falling apart, Shoot the Moon is one of the best.

1983 - Zelig (dir. Woody Allen)

Allen’s brilliant mockumentary charts the history of an “everyman” chameleon whose neurotic insecurity prompts him to take on the ideas, opinions and even physical appearance of whichever group of people he happens to be associating with. Hilarious and insightful, and, like all of Allen’s best films, both deep and feather-light.

1984 - Gremlins (dir. Joe Dante)

An early disappointment for me was not being allowed to go to see the 15-certificate Gremlins at the cinema. Seen on many occasions since; loved every time. “And that’s how I found out there wasn’t a Santa Claus…”

1985 - A Private Function (dir. Malcolm Mowbray)

“Like Volpone set in a cabbage patch” (Pauline Kael). Maggie Smith states: “I’m not having people think we put just rubbish in the bin.”

1986 - Little Shop of Horrors (dir. Frank Oz)

Honestly, no musical makes me happier than Little Shop of Horrors. Magic moment: the Steve Martin/Bill Murray encounter.

1987 - The Princess Bride (dir. Rob Reiner)

"My name is Inigo Montoya .. &etc."

1988 - Distant Voices, Still Lives (dir. Terence Davies)

Or The Naked Gun. Or Women on the Verge ...

1989 - Miss Firecracker (dir. Thomas Schlamme)

Does anyone else like this?

1990 - Home Alone (dir. Chris Columbus)

Vigilantism and family values, Hughes-style. Movie obsession commences right here.

1991 - Paradise (dir. Mary Agnes Donoghue)

Thoughts on Paradise here.

1992 - Strictly Ballroom (dir. Baz Luhrmann)

“Lee-sen to the ree-them!” One of my happiest cinema-going memories.

1993 - Philadelphia (dir. Jonathan Demme)

There are so many great sequences here, from that wonderful opening montage scored to Springsteen to the close-up of Hanks alone on the street,  and the opera scene, of course. But for me the key moment in Philadelphia comes in the exchange between Denzel Washington’s lawyer Miller and Charles Napier’s Judge midway through the movie. “In this courtroom, justice is blind to matters of race, creed, colour, religion and sexual orientation.” “With all due respect, Your Honour, we don’t live in this courtroom, though, do we?”

1994 - Forrest Gump (dir. Robert Zemeckis)

The early 90s = The Hanks Years.

 1995 - To Die For (dir. Gus Van Sant)

Van Sant's satire skewers its moment, and holds up very well.

1996 - The Portrait of a Lady (dir. Jane Campion)

Nicole, mark II. For me, the best Henry James adaptation there has been, or is ever likely to be.

1997 - The Sweet Hereafter (dir. Atom Egoyan)

A movie that retains its enigmatic quality no matter how many times it's seen; Egoyan’s masterful adaptation of Russell Banks’s novel.

1998 - Buffalo 66 (dir. Vincent Gallo)

Gallo's stylish, one-of-a-kind indie romance.

1999 - American Beauty (dir. Sam Mendes)

Or Magnolia. Or Topsy Turvy. Or Limbo. Or The Sixth Sense. Damn good year.

2000 - Under the Sand (dir. François Ozon)

A classic of first-person cinema: Ozon’s chilly, anti-closure masterpiece of mourning and melancholia.

2001 - The Deep End (dir. McGehee and Siegel)

McGehee and Siegel’s contemporary reworking of The Reckless Moment, with a tremendous performance from Tilda Swinton as the under-pressure matriarch.

2002 - Talk to Her (dir. Pedro Almodóvar)

Silent cinema. Telling stories. Dance and desire. Almodóvar's most moving, soulful film.

2003 - Lost In Translation (dir. Sofia Coppola)

Our Brief Encounter. Wonderful atmosphere. Humour and melancholy, alienantion and connection, resignation and hope.

2004 - The Village (dir. M. Night Shyamalan)

I wouldn't try to defend Shyamalan's last couple of films, which have seemed miscalculated in the extreme, but I've always been taken with The Village, for me one of the strangest, most beautiful and most underrated American films of the decade.

2005 - Hidden (dir. Michael Haneke)

Does anyone put our contemporary panics and paranoias on screen more memorably than Mr. Haneke?

2006 - Dans Paris (dir. Christophe Honoré)

Watching  Dans Paris, I discovered that I much preferred New Wave homage to the “real” thing.

2007 - Les Chansons d'amour (dir. Christophe Honoré)

Dans Paris's musical sister.

2008 - 35 Shots of Rum (dir. Claire Denis)

On the Nightshift.

2009 - RAGE (dir. Sally Potter)

Potter’s multi-vocal meditation on the fashion industry, corporatism, celeb culture, and much more besides. Also the only film so far in which you get to see Judi Dench light a joint. Reviewed here.

2010 - Le Refuge (dir. François Ozon)

Thoughts on Le Refuge here.

Review of 2010: Cinema - 10 Favourite Films

Cinema memories, 2010.

A Taliban on the run. A pregnant woman dancing in a nightclub, accompanied then alone. Child soldiers sleep, clutching soft toys. An American flag is raised in the Philippines. Pioneers let an Indian lead them. Dirty Dancing gets re-created. A dentist slumbers in her Spitfire. Two strangers play at being lovers (or the other way around). A gangster and his girl sway to Doris Day. A father watches his daughter ice-skate. A last supper is scored to Swan Lake. Juliette Binoche’s red lipstick. Romain Duris’s amazing hair. In Sanremo, a Russian woman pursues her son’s friend – soon to be her lover - through the city streets. In California, an Englishman receives a phone-call. A French child tells his mother a story, and becomes part of it.

Great year to be a movie-goer. And impossible to restrict this list to just 10 films...

1. Le Refuge (dir. François Ozon)

Le cinéma comme refuge. Too slight for some, Ozon’s intimate drama about a pregnant junkie connecting with her dead lover’s brother during one summer felt incredibly personal and resonant to me. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a perfectly wrought short story, and a film that gains from being placed in the wider context of the director’s body of work. Excellent performances from Isabelle Carré and Louis Ronan-Choisy as the odd couple working out their futures after loss (they’re both superb subjects for Ozon’s caressing camera), but what counts the most in Le Refuge is the attention to atmosphere, the focus on gazes and touches, and, especially, the director’s genius for capturing his characters in solitary, private moments. A beauty.

2. Meek’s Cutoff (dir. Kelly Reichardt)

O pioneers! The big surprise of this year’s London Film Festival, Kelly Reichardt’s awesome film, set in 1845, focuses on three families being led by an unreliable guide off of the Oregon Trail. Reichardt brings to this historical drama the same considered, slow-burn approach that distinguished her contemporary-set films; she brings a healthy reappraisal of gender and racial politics too. With its brilliant, spare script, stunning cinematography and perfectly-pitched performances from Michelle Williams, Bruce Greenwood, Paul Dano and Shirley Henderson, the visionary Meek deserves major attention on its theatrical release next year.

3. White Material (dir. Claire Denis)

One of Claire Denis’s most sustained and affecting films, with a brilliant performance from Isabelle Huppert as the coffee plantation owner refusing to leave her African estate as civil war breaks out around her. Seductive and disturbing, direct and elliptical, you don’t shake White Material off easily. And to quote Blondie: “My dream is on the screen.”

4. Of Gods And Men (dir. Xavier Beauvois)

An interesting companion piece to White Material in many ways, Xavier Beauvois’s drama about a group of Cistercian monks debating whether to leave their North African monastery in the wake of Islamic fundamentalist attacks is a masterful piece of work. And in the late sequence set to Swan Lake Beauvois provides one of the most emotionally overwhelming pieces of cinema that I’ve seen this year.

5. Wild Grass (dir. Alain Resnais)

There didn’t seem to be a lot of sustained joy and happiness radiating from the films released this year, or at least not the ones that meant the most to me. But I recall smiling pretty much all the way through Alain Resnais’s brazenly barmy Wild Grass, a great comedy about, ahem, loneliness, fantasy, ageing and obsession. Aged 88, the director demonstrates more movie-struck glee here than most filmmakers half his age. The viewer shares the delight. (Year's best poster, too.)

6. Essential Killing (dir. Jerzy Skolimowski)

The Fugitive for existentialists. Plopping his Taliban hero down in a snowy, rural Poland, where he’s hunted by both human and canine pursuers, Jerzy Skolimowski presents a marvellously idiosyncratic spin on the man-on-the-run movie here, distinguished by superb cinematography and a truly brilliant (wordless) performance from the great Vincent Gallo. The political dimensions of the story, though unavoidable, are ultimately downplayed; instead, Essential Killing takes on the primal intensity, clarity and mystery of an ancient folk ballad.

7. Making Plans For Léna (dir. Christophe Honoré)

I love the ability that certain French filmmakers have to present family dramas on a scale that’s at once intimate and epic. Honoré’s latest achieves just that. And Léna's confounding protagonists were my favourite movie characters of the year. If you’re listening Artificial Eye, please give this one a proper UK release.

8. Amigo (dir. John Sayles)

All the Sayles virtues - intelligence, perspective, humanity, insight, wit - are on display in the director’s compelling drama about the Philippines-American War. Again, if you're listening Artificial Eye...

9. London River (dir. Rachid Bouchareb)

The antidote to Four Lions. I wasn’t at all  prepared for the intense emotional impact of London River, Bouchareb’s film about two characters searching for their missing children in the wake of the 7/7 bombings, and its effect was no doubt accentuated by walking out of the cinema straight onto the London streets. Remarkable performances, and I admire the way that the film’s final moments complicate the healing and catharsis that’s achieved in the central relationship.

10. I Am Love (dir. Luca Guadagnino)

Before its unfortunate third-act stumble into hysteria, Guadagnino’s sumptuous melodrama - "Visconti on acid," in the words of its star - was a thing of absolute beauty, featuring a(nother) knock-out performance from Tilda Swinton as the adulterous matriarch. See it, and swoon.

In addition:

Heartbreaker (dir. Pascal Chaumeil)

Heartbreaker was quite delightful, a lively romantic comedy with edge. But a case could be made that the movie’s real subject is Romain Duris’s incredible (and envy-inducing) hair.

A Single Man (dir. Tom Ford)

You can quibble with the rather cosy, life-affirming message that Tom Ford’s adaptation imposes on Isherwood’s much more tart and cynical novella. But, despite awkward and unconvincing moments, overall A Single Man worked for me. Debate continues to rage about whether the movie’s sheer unabashed stylised gorgeousness is more suited to a commercial than a narrative film but I’d argue that Ford’s arsenal of stylistic tricks work effectively to convey the protagonist’s consciousness. Not so much style over substance, then, as style as substance. And even those unmoved by the visuals couldn’t deny the power of Colin Firth’s great performance.

Certified Copy (dir. Abbas Kiarostami)

A hymn to love or a hymn to Juliette Binoche? Well, both, perhaps. Less will-they-or-won’t-they? than are-they-or-aren’t-they?, Kiarostami’s memorable deconstruction of “the couple” is enigmatic and obvious, exasperating and beguiling, heavy-handed and understated, witty and poignant, all at once.

Lourdes (dir. Jessica Hausner)

Despite the fact that it’s one of the films that stayed with me the most throughout the year, somehow I never got around to writing about Lourdes, Hausner’s rich, wry film about a multiple sclerosis sufferer (Sylvie Testud) on a pilgrimage who experiences what may or may not be a miracle. The marvellous Michał Oleszczyk at Last Seat on the Right gives the best account of this film that I’ve read.

Father of my Children (dir. Mia Hansen-Løve)
"The beauty and cruelty of life," conveyed with equal perspicacity in Hansen-Løve's profoundly affecting film.

Somewhere (dir. Sofia Coppola)
Confirming Coppola as one of our foremost cinematic poets on the seductions - and the limitations - of ennui.

The Illusionist (dir. Sylvain Chomet)
Chomet’s delightful follow-up to the great Belleville Rendezvous: quieter, sadder, wiser.

The Limits of Control (dir. Jim Jarmusch)
Forget The American.


Two disappointments: Another Year and Happy Few.

Not seen and need to be seen: Black Swan, Dogtooth, Rabbit Hole, Carlos, The Kids Are All Right, and Enter The Void.


Agree? Disagree? Well, lemme know.