I will resist the temptation to argue the toss about which great movies the editors have left out, instead testing which ones have been included.
The 1001 movies are well spread out through time and reasonably diverse in origin, with the entries written by 58 wizzo reviewers, mainly critics and academics, including Kim Newman, always very readable, Jonathan Rosenbaum, David Robinson, Angela Errigo and Chris Fujiwara.
I wondered how my top ten films would fare, so here is what they have to say about them. The list is slightly modified as two of my choices Porco Rosso (2004) and Ben Stiller’s The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013) came out after publication (2003), so I added two substitutes. Here they are from tenth to first.
#10. George Lucas: American Graffiti (1973). A completely joyous film full of affection for a mythologically more innocent time before desegregation, the war in Vietnam and civil disobedience. It is a story of growing up, the end of school, the testing of relationships, the beginning of adulthood and the choices youngsters have to make. As Angela Errigo says, it was ‘one eventful summer’s night in 1962…often imitated, never surpassed in hilarity, penetration or technical virtuosity,’ (p568). And it has a rock and roll soundtrack of unexcelled nostalgia: "See you in September…”
#9. Stanley Donen/Gene Kelly: Singin’ in the Rain (1952): 'the greatest of all Hollywood musicals’ (p274), the best satire of early Hollywood as cinema transforms from silence to sound with Gene Kelly in his best role, Donald O’Connor just as good, and effervescent (and very young) Debbie Reynolds, who are immeasurably aided by the beautiful Jean Hagen (‘I will sue!’) as the cunning egomaniacal silent star with the excruciating voice, Lina Lamont.
#8 Alfred Hitchcock: North by Northwest. There’s a moment when Cary Grant asks Eva Marie Saint, ironically: ‘Why are you so good to me?’ meaning the opposite, but of course she is impossible to resist. Grant is imperilled more than usually here, menaced by a crop duster and almost falling off Mount Rushmore. The film also has the incomparable James Mason at his suave oiliest and a score by the inimitable Bernard Herrmann. Why is it so good? All these ingredients with Hitchcock directing in his heyday.
#7 David Lean Lawrence of Arabia is ‘David Lean’s Oscar-grabbing masterpiece’ (p406). The first film I watched in the cinema, still standing up all these years later, a genuine epic where the landscape is just as striking as the galaxy of stars, none brighter than Peter O’Toole as Lawrence and Omar Sharif as Ali. The first notes of Maurice Jarre’s score will take you straight to the Arabian Desert.
#6 Yasujiro Ozu The Flavour of Greet Tea Over Rice (1952). A delicate marital story from the master of stillness Ozu, which I admire for its insight and observation. Not included in the compendium, one of two of my choices which miss out. But the director is well represented with Tokyo Story (1953), Floating Weeds (1959) and An Autumn Afternoon (1962) each one of which ranks high in my estimation.
#5 Zhang Yimou: Red Sorghum (1987) A muscular film of feudalism, legend and brave romance in China in the late twenties and early thirties with inspired performances from the strong–willed Gong Li and the powerful Wen Jiang as the audacious chair bearer. It is fabulous looking as well: ‘Many of Red Sorghum’s most striking features are visual: handsome ‘Scope compositions of landscapes and sorghum waving in the wind and a deft use of colour filters’. (p757)
#4 Akira Kurosawa: High and Low (1963) My chosen Kurosawa, and there’s a lot to choose from, is an unusually quiet, contemporary drama of a business man, Toshiro Mifune, faced with a fearful moral dilemma when his kidnapped son turns out to be the child of his chauffeur. Not selected for inclusion in this book but there are six Kurosawas which have been: Rashomon (1950), Ikuru (1952), Seven Samurai (1956), Throne of Blood (1965), Dersu Uzala (1974) and Ran (1980).
#3 Jean Vigo: L’Atalante (1934). Some of our best films can also be favourites and L’Atalante is one. Quite the most beautiful film about a newly married couple, a rather dour bargee and his sunny village bride walk from the church to the barge to make for Le Havre. In the view of Adrian Martin, the film is ‘the cinema’s greatest ode to heterosexual passion. One simply cannot enter its rapturous poetry without surrendering to the romantic oppositions between the sexes, comparisons rigorously installed at every possible level – spiritual, physical, erotic and emotional. It is only this thrill of absolute ‘otherness’ that can allow the agony of non-alignment between the lovers and the sublimity of their eventual fusion.’(p120) Jean Vigo made only three films before his untimely death from tuberculosis at 29, but two of them, Zero de Conduite (1933) and this one make it here.
#2 Billy Wilder: Some Like it Hot (1959) Billy Wilder boasts five entries and Some Like it Hot rewards repeated viewings. It is masterly in every way with satirical script by Wilder and IAL Diamond, principals at their peak (Monroe, Curtis and Lemmon), unremitting farce going in unexpected directions, gags aplenty, period authenticity (from 1929 Chicago following the St Valentine’s massacre to sunny Florida and a gangster convention). Some Like it Hot is as refreshing now as it ever was. As Angela Errigo suggests: ‘This legendary drag comedy is sensationally funny, fizzing from start to finish with smart situations, cleverly crafted gags, breakneck timing and terrific performances'. (p362)
And number one?
#1. Buster Keaton: The General (1926) Simply the greatest film ever made. Geoff Andrew concludes: ‘What makes The General so extraordinary is that it is superlative on every level…humour, suspense, historical reconstruction, character study, visual beauty, and technical precision…it comes as close to flawless perfection as any feature ever made, comic or otherwise.’ (p66) High praise, well merited.
The many stunts stem from the story and they are all Buster, with no trick photography. Many could have killed him. To take one example, Buster sits forlornly on the coupling rod (the horizontal bar linking the big wheels which drive the locomotive) and remains sitting as the train slowly starts, lifting him into the air, oblivious to what is happening until he realises then jumps off. In such circumstances the train wheels often spin, with a result you might imagine. Buster as the director had the driver practice until he could regularly start the locomotive moving without the wheels spinning. Heck of a risk. Take a look at Keaton’s stunt work, or a whole film, online.
The film would be great with just this but it also has Buster the master of the small gesture, the quizzical look and the brave face. He was a genius.
And there you have it; a great book full of marvellous films including eight out of my top ten. How would yours go?
PS: for the record, I have seen 504 of the 1001 films. Still time…