Top Ten: Favorite Movies

Well, it's Friday, and if you're me or if you hacked my account, you know that means it's time for a Top Ten list!

Today, I'll be rattling off my top ten favorite movies of all time.  To make it a little more interesting, I've decided to only use one film per director maximum.  Yes, that means I'll be excluding some of my favorites.  Remember, this is a personal list.  If you have different opinions, give us your own top ten in the comments.

Number Ten: Sunset Boulevard
Billy Wilder
Film Noir is kind of a mixed bag for me personally.  I like a lot of the concepts, but I have trouble when it comes to actually sitting down and enjoying the movie.  Sunset Boulevard is the exception, in a big way.  It's not dark for the sake of dark, it's dark because the story is deeply rooted in complex and troubling topics such as sanity vs. insanity and the pain of time, and it explores them well.

What really makes this movie great, compared to other comparable movies, is the characters.  You'll remember from one of my earlier rants the problems I have with female characters and romance in most media, particularly older American films.  Not here.  Every character's goals, motivations, and personality and made perfectly clear and remains consistent throughout the film's entirety.

Something I really, really like is that point where there are no "well what if"s, because the background is so thoroughly explained that the film or television series portrays the most logical course of events for the setup.  I got one of those in Puella Magi Madoka Magica; I got one here.

It's subtle, it's brilliant, it even has a few funny moments.  If this were an objective list instead of a subjective one, Sunset Boulevard would be much higher up.  I put it at number ten mostly because it's sort of outside my normal preference of genre.

Number Nine: Grave of the Fireflies
Isao Takahata
One of my pet peeves when it comes to anime isn't really with anime, it's sort of the idea that it's inherently better (or for that matter, that it's fundamentally different) because it's from Japan.  While they do have a few key cultural differences, I really prefer to judge them on the same scale as American media.  Anyway, I digress.

Grave of the Fireflies is probably the saddest movie I've ever seen.  It's like they took that banned Jerry Lewis Movie The Day The Clown Cried, recast it with Littlefoot's mom, Simba's dad, and Fry's dog, and screened it for a theater full of orphans with cancer.  Oh yeah, and it's based on the director's true story.

(This of course makes it slightly hilarious that it ran in a double feature with My Neighbor Totoro, a kid's movie.  I would absolutely love to see those kids' reactions.)

And again, it's sad for all the right reasons.  The characters are so deep and well-detailed that you have trouble actually "blaming" the antagonist (whose only crime was expecting the protagonist to contribute) any more or less than the protagonist (whose faults are the result of childhood immaturity in a harsh environment more than hubris).

I can't really say a lot without ruining the movie.  One thing I'd like to point out, though, is the subtle tricks and foreshadowing that you don't even notice the first few times watching.  It's definitely one to review.

Number Eight: Up
Pete Docter
One of the most common misconceptions in media is that things made for children are inherently inferior.  Though there are shows like Invader Zim and My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic with peripheral audiences, it's pretty rare that something dubbed a "kid's movie" gets any serious respect, which is a shame because a lot of it is genuinely well-constructed stuff.

Up is one of those few that's just so amazing that people have trouble dismissing it.  It has perhaps the most heartbreaking story ever told in ten minutes or less... and then the rest of the movie happens with the same momentum.  Pixar is famous for not doing anything halfway, and it's hard to list just one of their movies.  Roger Ebert called Toy Story "the greatest trilogy of all time".  But I'm confident it's Up that best shows off everything they do right.

The animation is spectacular.  At a few points I found myself utterly forgetting what I was seeing wasn't real.  The story and dialogue, not to mention the voice acting, were designed perfectly to garner the perfect emotions at the perfect times.

Again, this is a little low on the list, and while I'm saying the other films are better, it's hard to say this one is worse, even though, y'know, that's the implication.  It's pretty hard to criticize it.

Number Seven: Citizen Kane
Orson Welles
"To Build A Fire" is frequently hailed as "the perfect short story".  The trouble is, while it does pretty well exemplify everything a short story should be, I personally don't find it that interesting.  I don't dislike it, per se, but there are a lot of short stories I like more.

Citizen Kane, often called "the perfect movie", is not like that.  For me, at least.  I genuinely enjoyed every minute of this film.  There's of course the story (deep, well-crafted, and clever, enough to impress you even when you know the ending), but what really makes this movie for me is the technical aspects.  The directing and cinematography did things that filmmakers today still rarely attempt.

Again, I'm forced to put this movie lower than it would be on an objective list (where it would be number one) because it's sort of outside my preferences.  It earns its spot by being just so technically amazing that I can't help but love it.

Number Six: Airplane!
David Zucker, Jim Abrahams, Jerry Zucker
Another common misconception (and one that's built into many institutions, including the Academy Awards) is that comedy is somehow "less" than serious drama.  While I'll elaborate more on that in a future rant, the point is that comedy is just as difficult to make, if not more so, than serious drama, and it is no less art.

This being why Airplane! is so often underappreciated.  No, it's not some complex satire (though it is a parody of a particular genre); no, it's not some subtle deconstruction.  It's just funny.  Really, really funny.  So funny that I defy you to watch it and not laugh at least once.  I forget whom, but one critic of the film raved, "If you don't like a joke, don't worry; another one will be along in a couple of seconds". With considerably more hits than misses, at that.

The film follows the plot of the earlier movie Zero Hour! (so closely, in fact, that the directors bought the rights to that movie just to be safe) and mocks the "airplane disaster" movie genre fad of the time.  Some younger readers may wonder, "What?  I've never seen any of those movies!"  That's because Airplane! so thoroughly spoofed them that after that, people just stopped making them and watching them.  That's thorough.

It's a work of cinematic art, and nothing less.  And yes, the exclamation point is part of the title.

Number Five: Edward Scissorhands
Tim Burton
Say what you will about Tim Burton, but you have got to give him Edward Scissorhands.  His love of grim, German Expressionist designs with high key lighting gives the perfect atmosphere of the stranger in a strange land.  Vincent Price was magnificent as the inventor.  Tim Burton fills his shots with subtle but meaningful props and backgrounds that bring even more depth to the characters.

The story is perhaps the epitome of "it's better than it sounds": A guy with sharp blades for hands moves into the suburbs, cuts hedges and hair.  But trust me, it's better than it sounds.

What makes this movie magnificent is two things: the first and most important is the character of Edward.  Here's something: he only says 169 words in the entire film.  Did you even notice that?  That's how effectively those words were chosen to portray him.  A lot of directors seriously screw up the "quiet guy" archetype.  Not Burton, not here.  Johnny Depp gives a brilliant performance as someone who's confused, scared, and just wants to feel safe.

The second thing is the ending, which I'm not giving away.  Watch the movie.

Number Four: The Graduate
Mike Nichols
One of the handful of exceptions to the "comedies get no respect" rule, The Graduate is a dry, witty tragicomedy following Benjamin Braddock as he tries and fails to find his place in life.  With iconic characters and dialogue ("Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me!") and an uproariously funny ending, The Graduate has struggled to earn its place of honor.

The mise-en-scene and cinematography are excellent, despite the fact that they were largely handled by newbies to the scene.  Like e.e. cummings with poetry, they break the rules in all the right ways (zooming instead of tracking; the rule of thirds).

It's hard to put one's finger on exactly what makes this movie so great, though.  It's the sort of thing you have to see.

Number Three: A Clockwork Orange
Stanley Kubrick
Kubrick is a director known for taking a lot of risks and winning.  Picking his "best" movie is really a matter of personal preference, so I'd like to make a shout-out to something in one of his other films before proceeding.

HAL 9000, from 2001: A Space Odyssey.  With his creepy monotone voice and cold robotic logic, plus the fact that he can do literally just about anything he wants to kill you, make him perhaps the most terrifying villain ever brought to screen.  You can't even put a face to him, he's just a red dot and a space station.  His polite manner of speaking just serves to make him creepier.  I scoffed at The Exorcist, but "I'm sorry, Dave.  I'm afraid I can't do that" still throws me for a loop.

Anyway, A Clockwork Orange.  This time we get the twist of seeing the villain as our protagonist (it's not unique or novel, but it's still rare enough to become a delicacy of cinema).  The film explores themes of human agency in a chilling narrative that makes it a real moral question, not just a straightforward "this is wrong, don't do it" sort of way.  I say that despite hating the word "chilling" (again, a rant for another time).  The book did that; the movie adds to it by the controversial technique of not cutting anything.  We see every violent horrible thing Alex DeLarge does in detail.  By making him so thoroughly evil we're forced to seriously consider the moral prospects the film provides.

Everything that makes this movie comes down to that singular goal: make the audience say "I don't know".  The soundtrack, the dialogue, the staging, the editing--it's all designed towards that one end, and boy does it work.

It earns its place because I love dystopian settings.  It's a quirk of mine.  And you'll certainly see that in...

Number Two: Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind
Hayao Miyazaki
This was a really, really tough decision to make, since there's no Hayao Miyazaki film I don't love.  It was really a tough decision, one on which I'm still not 100% positive, so I'd be remiss if I didn't at least point out its competition.

Kiki's Delivery Service: While the slice-of-life genre is pretty prevalent in television, it's pretty rare in film.  And for good reason, since the format and timing is extremely hard to get down.  Kiki's Delivery Service, though, shows that it is not impossible, and that it can be done very well.  There's no antagonist and the story is pretty loosely defined, yet it still pulls it all together for a thrilling climax in the face of everything you learn in film school.  Since this is Hayao Miyazaki, the characters are lovable and the animation and art is breathtaking.

Spirited Away: His most famous and awarded film, for good reason, but it never really clicked for me.  I loved it, of course, I just never loved it-loved it.  The art is probably the best it's been in any Ghibli film, at least any Ghibli film I've seen (which is most of them, though I've heard Goro Miyazaki's films are very impressive in this respect).  Again, it's hard to say it did anything wrong, it just wasn't my favorite.

Princess Mononoke: Okay, this was the big one.  It really came down to Nausicaa or Mononoke, and there are still some things in Mononoke that I prefer to Nausicaa.  The art is nothing short of gorgeous, the message is subtle but poignant, it's got some great action and world creation.  It was physically painful to leave it off the list.

No film by Hayao Miyazaki would be out of place on this list (My Neighbor Totoro, Laputa, Howl's Moving Castle, Ponyo).  Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind wins on a few slim margins.

The first: I love the world in which it's set.  I said I love dystopia, and Nausicaa includes a beautiful one.  We see just enough of it to get a deep appreciation for the situation, but it keeps enough hidden to prevent it from being a true dystopia: there is still hope, no matter how lost it seems in the Sea of Decay.

Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away win for the art, but Nausicaa is no slouch.  One of the things I adore about animated films is the visual freedom they express.  The animation is smooth and beautiful from start to finish, and it sort of epitomizes the Ghibli style you'll see in their other movies.

It goes without saying that I love the characters.  The people aren't easily divided into "active" or "passive", "good" or "evil".  They fall everywhere on any spectrum, and you can even get a sense of individuality among characters that aren't even named.  Nausicaa herself is developed and overall delightful to watch.

I guess the clincher would be (and call me petty if you will) the soundtrack.  "Mehve To Corvette No Tatakai" is my favorite song from any Ghibli film, and the music throughout was probably the best I'd heard in Ghibli up until The Borrower Arrietty.  Like I said, it was a slim victory.

Nausicaa is just the tallest head in a tall field, and I absolutely adore it.

And finally...
Number One: Brazil
Terry Gilliam
Again, this was a hard one to pick, since the director has done so many great things (all three Monty Python movies, Twelve Monkeys, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen).  This boils down to one thing: dystopia.

If I may digress, let me state that this movie is criminally underappreciated.  It did okay in the UK, but it flopped in the US because of poor marketing, and I've only met a handful of people who've heard of it, let alone seen it.  That is an appalling shame, because it is a masterpiece.

Now, the movie itself.  I love the novel Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell (yes, to be correct, you have to spell out the numbers).  Terry Gilliam took heavy inspiration from Ingsoc and decided to make a dystopian movie that was absolutely side-splittingly hilarious.  Another thing I love is black humor, and Brazil is replete with it.

A bored bureaucrat swats a fly, setting the story in motion as unhappy drone Sam Laury attempts to track down the woman of his dreams, literally.  The story is intricate, dark, satirical, and laugh-out-loud funny.

The story is great (and I don't want to give too much away), but it's really only half of it.  Terry Gilliam has a notorious but very effective style of mise-en-scene: nearly perpetual low-key lighting, extremely crowded shots full of bustling activity, and paper, lots and lots of paper.  There's no shortage of visual motifs, all of which are perfectly placed between subtle and obvious.

There's nothing I don't adore about this movie.  The visuals are amazing to watch, the dialogue is flawless, and every character is pleasantly unpleasant.  If I had to give up every other movie in the world just to keep this one, I'd do it.

So, that's my personal top ten.  Tune in next Friday for: the Top Ten Franchises for Geeks.  Signing out.