POSSIBLE SPOILERS AHOY! Arr, you ‘ave been warned.

45. Breaking the Waves (1996)

This is... the only von Trier film on this list. Chiefly that’s because I haven’t seen Dancer in the Dark or The Idiots, both of which sound brilliant (in fact, I’ve been listening to Bjork’s soundtrack to the former for months now), or Dogville for that matter. But even though Breaking the Waves is in my Top 45, it’s right at the bottom because... well, I’ve talked about this before, but I feel it’s probably a film that either gets your, or doesn’t.

It didn’t.

I still think it’s really good. Emily Watson is startlingly effective as an emotional retard and is obviously the standout performance; she makes the whole film feel real and also bizarre at the same time. Her descent is memorably disturbing.

But... I only found it disturbing as an outside viewer. Perhaps ironically, considering the almost-Dogme-esque way of shooting, I felt too distanced from her to really care. No, more than that; it’s more that she spends her time being depressed or screwed up. For the entire thing. Even her wedding day is muted and dank. The entire film flits between falsely happy and outright depressed, and it’s not enough of an emotional scale for me to really, really care.

I respect it, though. A hell of a lot. And so here it is, just scraping its way into the list.

44. Millennium Actress (2001)

A clever film, this; it’s a massive retrospective on the Japanese film industry (apparently. I don’t know enough about the Japanese film industry to really say that for sure. It really just felt like a retrospective on the entire film industry; it certainly also works as a Western fable for me) and on one ordinary life.

Satoshi Kon is very much obsessed with mixing over-the-top, silly-but-enjoyable fantasy with dark, realistic and heartfelt drama. In this case, it allows him (as he’d already done with Perfect Blue) to compare the motives of the actress’ characters with the actress herself, and the lines between character and actress – and indeed, fiction and truth – become blurred for the audience. It’s also beautifully sombre and, of course, astonishingly directed.

The one thing that brings it down, simply, is the occasional glib comments from the cameramen who are recording the adventure. This vein of postmodernism is actually less annoying than it should be; probably this is because (vague racism here, probably) it’s in Japanese, and they can get away with it. I’m not sure.

43. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)

Hello, everyone who is giving me strange glances!

This is the best kids’ film in yonks, and nothing that’s come since has equalled it (disclaimer: I haven’t seen Wall E yet). Pixar are typically wonderful, and were this list longer I’d include them, but this is so complex and wonderful that it deserves a place.

Granted, I’m a Harry Potter fan, but then, this is the movie that stopped being adaptations of the books in the strictest sense. The first two films were fun for their time – and “charming”, however that is determined – but they were also incredibly slow-moving, poorly-acted (by the kids), and were just too dull and long. PoA is a hell of a lot shorter (from a longer book), and it’s shorter because it cuts out all that irrelevant detail that a film adaptation really doesn’t need at all. Everything in here either serves the character, or the plot.

It helps that the actors have – down to director Alfonso Cuaron’s influence – got grips on their versions of the characters, rather than trying to be absolutely like the book versions (Emma Watson is no longer anything like Hermione from this point on, but it works for the movies). And – no disrespect to the dead – Michael Gambon has far more presence than Richard Harris did (possibly Harris, in his slow-moving, quiet way, might’ve worked better if the entire direction wasn’t slow-moving and quiet).

The best of the bunch.

42. Fucking Amal (1998)

“Girl realises she’s gay” is possibly the most dull and overdone plot in recent films at the moment. It’s dull and it’s boring and – ooh, but Fucking Amal isn’t. It’s the direct opposite to the now-Hollywood-ised version of lesbianism. In fact, you could argue that the fact that this is about two girls is completely irrelevant, and it could equally be about a girl and a guy too.

Because, more than being about understanding one’s sexuality in those terms, this is about understanding one’s sexuality in a complete sense. The awkwardness that the teenagers display in this film doesn’t come from the fact that they’re gay, it comes from the fact that they’re teenagers who are trying to work out what love is. It’s honest and it’s genuine. There’s no “I love you” proclamations here, and even the uplifting ending is still grounded and real more than anything else.

It helps that the actresses give such appealing performances, too.

Fucking Amal is the best anthem for confused teenagers I’ve ever seen; and best of all, it’s completely quiet about it.

41. The Blair Witch Project (1999)

This is not overrated. It is what it is; a shit-your-pants scary movie that’s even more anti-professional and grounded than Dogme. It’s fascinating enough to know what the actors/actress did during the making of this, but really it just comes down to whether it works, and it bloody well does work. Granted, like Breaking the Waves (why the hell am I comparing this to von Trier so much?), it’s probably one of those movies that either gets you or doesn’t, but y’know, I still think it’s a laudable achievement. And it’s scary. Don’t forget that.

40. Citizen Kane (1941)

Citizen Kane is one of those fascinating stories that look at a person from everyone else’s perspectives (in this case after death), and it’s probably the ultimate example. It’s atmospheric, it’s genuine, it’s over-the-top, it’s sensationalist, and it’s down to earth. Kane himself veers between likeability, amusing smugness, complete dickheadishness (every good story like that has the main character being a complete dickhead at some point), and, at the end, lost innocence. I’m not going to spoil what “Rosebud” is for those that haven’t seen it (goddammit, I hate how these sort of twists are common knowledge), but it’s... well, it’s the loss of innocence. It’s Kane yearning for what he lost, for that moment when he was whisked away and became what he became.

The reason why this is so far down the list, then, is purely because I didn’t actually enjoy it as much as I did other films – probably because of the relative lack of humour (I’d say it’s witty, but not actually funny). It’s still an unparalleled achievement, though.


39. Fight Club (1999)

Speaking of twists being common knowledge... I actually didn’t know the twist to this one. And in fact, the twist itself is why this isn’t higher up the list. It’s... I don’t know. It’s not bad, more just pointless. I mean, it achieves the same purpose as the dynamic between Pitt and Norton anyway; for a film that shows us the difference between bland office life and intense male fighting, it just felt silly to go one step further.

Despite that, this is still good; it’s funny, it’s painful, and it’s clever. And anyone who says “this movie is only enjoyed by white, middle-class men” isn’t only factually inaccurate, they’re also just plain idiotic. The characters are that, so if the audience is that, then they’re immediately going to link. That’s the whole point. It’d be like accusing Willy Wonka of being accessible only to kids because the main characters are kids. That’s the point (and, again, it’s also factually inaccurate because adults enjoy it...).

38. The Shining (1980)

Probably my least favourite Kubrick film I’ve seen so far, but it’s still one of the best horror films ever made. That says a lot, I think. It’s atmospheric, it’s (mostly) brilliantly directed, and it makes boredom scary. I like that. I like that a lot. Writing a story about writer’s block is always seen as a no-no (with good reason; it’s usually an exercise in postmodern wankery that immediately declares itself as “clever”), but somehow Kubrick pulls it off, proving, again, that no idea is actually bad, it’s just our perception of how that idea is usually carried out that is.

Nicholson’s being Nicholson here, which works really well, and the rest of the cast works too. I don’t actually remember the music at all, which is pretty darn strange for a Kubrick film (perhaps that’s why it’s not one of my absolute favourites?), but minor flaws aside, this is still pretty darn good.

37. Lawrence of Arabia (1962)

Epic. There’s not really any other word for it; it’s just big. The story is big, though centred on one man. The landscape is huge and desolate, though you can see just one man riding through it. This is really just about one man lost in a massive wilderness that engulfs him, and yet he still stands out. It’s no wonder that he starts to believe the hype, that – ala Kane – he becomes a self-important ass for a while.

It’s long, but it’s a damn impressive achievement. Worth watching at least once.

36. Howl’s Moving Castle (2004)

For a while I couldn’t decide between this and Spirited Away, but thinking about it now, Howl’s Moving Castle is actually the better film. It revels in being strange and unexplainable, and yet, unlike Spirited Away, there is an internal logic to the film that’s readily apparent. Howl may be able to transform into loads of different things, but we understand on some level why; whereas there’s really no explanation for a similar character’s transformations in the other.

I’m not bringing down Spirited Away, by the way, just pointing out that Howl’s is better. I mean, its protagonist is an old woman, for god’s sake. That’s immediately more engaging. Any animated movie that can make a character moment out of a very slow climb up some stairs is recommended in my book.

35. Rear Window (1954)

The Simpsons episode ‘Bart of Darkness’ almost ruined this one for me. I kept expecting some sort of elaborate twist at the end. I don’t think it’s much of a spoiler – in fact, you’ll probably be less immediately disappointed – to say there isn’t. What James Stewart sees is what James Stewart gets. That goes for the murder and for Grace Kelly.

This isn’t just a window into the murderer’s room, though; it’s a window to the other neighbours, and to Stewart’s character himself. Rope actually already did this, but this is the more infamous and overtly experimental, and it is an impressive achievement. In typically Hitchcock style, it also opens with a tonally jarring title sequence, and is quietly funny.

Overrated perhaps, but still darn good.

34. Pi (1998)

I don’t like maths. Without wanting to get too much into it, I just find it really boring, and I also resent it when people say music is maths (they have a point, but it isn’t exclusively maths).

So the fact that Pi had me going, “Whoa, everything can be reduced to a mathematical equation” is a testament to how bloody good it is. The story is lovely, the narration is filled with wonder yet cynically droll, and the direction is obviously brilliant. It’s Darren Aronofsky, and he’s probably the best recent talent alongside David Lynch and Satoshi Kon. The former is interesting, cos like Eraserhead, this is black and white throughout and even has a scene that seems to show the main character “in heaven”. But despite that, it’s wildly different, it’s its own beast.

And the music is brilliant too.

33. Being John Malkovich (1999)

I sort of wish they’d shot the original script instead of what we got... but to be fair, if I had the interest to read an alternate version, I must’ve liked the one I saw. And I did. I did.

This isn’t exactly full-blown weird so much as a bit odd (so if you’re put off the by the “weirdness” in this, don’t watch anything by Lynch. In fact, don’t watch half of the films in this list), but that “bit odd” is very clever and very funny. John Cusack plays a ventriloquist who finds a way to control John Malkovich, that famous actor who “played a jewel thief”. But there’s conspiracies afoot, and a bizarre out-of-left-field romance between Maxine and – no, I won’t say who – that nonetheless feels real at the end.

Malkovich himself is bloody funny. In fact, the whole thing is. And it’s well-directed by Spike Jonze, who’s one of the main men of the videoclip industry. Very much recommended.

32. Memento (2000)

It’s noir – or should that be “rion”? It’s the film told backwards, where the lead character – played by Australian Guy Pearce – can’t make short-term memories. From day to day, all he has to guide him are words written/tattooed on his own body, and a long-term memory of avenging his wife’s rape and murder. Obviously, it’s more complex than that, and the ending had me riveted. It’s probably guessable if you’re paying attention, but that doesn’t take away how damn satisfying it is.

31. Casablanca (1942)

I doubted this. I mean, it’s Casablanca, isn’t it? Everyone raves on about it, but it just happens to be a love film on first inspection. I mean, fuck that.

It’s not, thankfully. Don’t get me wrong, the love story is very important to the plot, but really, you don’t exactly want Bogart and Bergman to get together (at least, I didn’t). In fact, Bergman’s character Ilsa is a bit of a manipulative bitch, all things said. She’s also slightly glammed up, which is annoying; thankfully, Bogart is down to earth, cynical and an arsehole. In other words, he’s real. This isn’t anywhere near as fairytale-romance as I’d been led to believe.

Throw in some lovely direction, some hilarious bits, and the WWII background to the thing, and it ends up being much bigger than it’s usually described.

30. Gallipoli (1981)

Thank god for Peter Weir. I’m not a “true blue”, but goddammit, I really wish Australia had far more balls in its entertainment industry than it has. Up until Weir, I wouldn’t have considered putting any Australian films (that I’ve seen, mind you... I could still be surprised) in this list. They’re either downright dull and domestic, or good but not amazing or particularly imaginative.

Weir isn’t. And while Gallipoli admittedly isn’t bizarre or immediately striking, it’s very well-told. It’s got an underwater shot that beats the underwater sequence in Saving Private Ryan for me (yes, honestly), but this mostly isn’t a war film in the sense of showing us war. It shows us a lot less battle than The Thin Red Line, for god’s sake.

It’s just distinctive, somehow. I can’t even really explain it. Maybe it’s the music; maybe it’s the setting (both Egypt and Australia make it look far different from any other war film I’ve seen). Or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s really kinda depressing. Whatever it is, it makes me – corny alert! – proud to be Australian.

29. Dr Strangelove (1964)

Strraaaaaange loooove, quietly steeealing...

...well, okay, that’s not Dr Strangelove, it’s Lust for a Vampire. Here’s a classic quote, then: “You can’t fight in here, this is the War Room!”

Yes, this is very, very funny. It’s often been described as satirical, but I have a feeling that those who trump this up – even above its comedic elements – are really just trying to make it seem more intelligent than it is. Don’t get me wrong, it is intelligent, otherwise it wouldn’t be in here, but it’s as intelligent as South Park; there’s more than meets the eye, but really the mouth is too busy laughing to let the eyes keep up.

There’s only one thing in this that doesn’t work for me, and that’s – funnily enough – Dr Strangelove himself. Maybe it’s because a Nazi joke feels irrelevant to the Cold War climate as presented; maybe it’s just too overdone. But either way, it’s the only thing that doesn’t work in the whole film. Everything else is just sheer brilliance.

28. Frenzy (1972)

And here we have another hilarious film!

Sorry, what? Yes, I know. This is about a guy who kills women with neckties. But it’s blackly hilarious, it’s misogynist in a way that also shows men off to be horrible... in fact, Frenzy basically spits on every character it introduces in some way as being fundamentally flawed. Even a couple of extras are too self-absorbed and stupid to bother to check out the sounds of screaming in a building next to them.

The hero of the piece is Richard Blaney, who is probably the least charming, the most flawed, and the darkest character in the movie. He’s also the funniest and, in fact, completely innocent. The killer is in fact far more likeable.

Hitchcock was known as the master of scares, but like any really good director obsessed with having the audience shitting themselves, he’s also obsessed with pointing out the absurdities in it, how ridiculous and funny and quintessentially stupid humans really are. It’s probably not for everyone, and this isn’t one of Hitchcock’s best-liked films, but it really works for me.

27. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971)

Another kids’ film!

The Burton/Depp one isn’t bad by any means, but this one’s just too iconic. My favourite Gene Wilder role coupled with some hilarious performances from the kids. Okay, so no-one in the audience really likes Charlie, but it’s still nice to see the other, more indulgent kids get their comeuppance. And I mean, one of them’s called Verucca, and one of them eats a microphone. Come on, this is just brilliance.

26. The Thin Red Line (1998)

The thinking man’s war film? Bah, whatever. It’s more the thinking men’s war film; diving into the heads of numerous soldiers and the defeated philosophy they turn to in the midst of battle. Whether the philosophy sounds tired and obvious to us is completely irrelevant; they’re in a battlefield, for god’s sake. It’s not psychologically deep, this, but it doesn’t have to be. It’s better for not being, in fact. It just shows us simple men, with simple ideas.

There’s something about the way it’s directed, too. Terrence Malick often lets shots take in the environment on a grand scale, the bullets rippling through the grass, the butterflies lazily drifting away from explosions. It’s all very pretty, which actually makes it more disturbing somehow. It’s as if no-one and nothing is concerned about the soldiers dying apart from, well, the soldiers.

It’s also got a beautiful soundtrack. I was emotionally affected by this. I could fully understand why anyone else wouldn’t be, though.

25. Olympia (1938)

CONTROVERSY!

You know, I could have picked Triumph of the Will. That would’ve been even more offensive. But I decided not to go for the celebration of the Nazi party, and more for the celebration of the human physique. With that in mind, it’s no more offensive than seeing Michelangelo’s David or any number of Grecian statues. It’s only the fact that Leni Riefenstahl had definite links to the Nazi party that makes it seem like the entire thing is glorifying the values of the Nazis. Which it isn’t.

With that cleared up, this is amazing to watch. Regardless of the ideals behind it, it’s just amazing to see such athleticism. This changed the way the Olympics and sports events were shot, and yet no event is shot like this; the complete lack of bloody text getting in the way. In fact, we barely know who the hell is in these events, and it doesn’t matter. It’s just glorious to watch.

Oh alright, have your film-burning. Go on. I suppose it’s only balancing it out.

24. Children of Men (2006)

Effortlessly, Alfonso Cuaron has wormed his way into two entries in this list (the other was HP3). And I haven’t even seen Y tu mama tambien.

Dark, depressing, and vividly shot. It presents a sci-fi, near-future world that’s about current issues, but is also probably quite timeless too. At heart, it’s about racism and conception, and, you know, they’re not exactly going to go away any time soon (...damn). It also showcases Cuaron as the master of the one-shot, on a technical level. And I can’t get past the brilliance of the Guernica scene.

And man, it even plays Radiohead and Aphex Twin. Icing on the cake.

23. Run Lola Run (1998)

Thumpin’, thumpin’, thumpin’... possibly the turn-back-time narrative, or the quick-fast-“This is Your Life!”-shots, or the damn running, could all be considered gimmicks. Whatever. They all add up to something bizarrely catchy and exciting, other than the breathers in the middle which are a perfect yanking out of the pace.

There’s not much I can actually say about this; it’s sort of just something you watch and get caught up in. It’s, yes, thumpin’.

22. The Seventh Seal (1957)

I have never seen a better film about death in my entire life.

This one’s set in the midst of the Black Death. We see medieval portraits of death. And just to top it off, the main character plays chess with Death.

This all sounds silly, but somehow it’s brilliant. Maybe it’s the fact that this is also spontaneously and surprisingly funny at points that make it actually harder and more real as a consequence. It’s one of those films that just wouldn’t work in colour, either; for a film about death and the Black Plague, it makes perfect sense for it to be, well, primarily black and white. It’s dark and striking.

21. Mr Vampire (1985)

I saw this as a kid and laughed my head off... and yet still went to bed scared. I wonder if that’d happen to other kids? Not that, er, kids should be watching this.

Chinese vampires aren’t exactly mainstream knowledge, but here’s the rundown; instead of flying, they hop with their arms outstretched, and instead of biting, they pierce necks with their long fingernails. They’re also blind and rely on picking up breathing to know where their victims are. Obviously this is ridiculous, and that’s why Mr Vampire is so bloody funny; because as creepy as the vampires look, and as foreboding as the soundtrack is, this is very deliberately a comedy. It’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen.

I remembered this all those years, trying to rediscover what it was. When I finally did, I wasn’t disappointed. It’s masterful.

20. Full Metal Jacket (1987)

It probably says something about me that most of the serious films in this list have also made me crack up with laughter... thankfully a lot of them were also meant to be funny. This is an example; a disturbing, cynical and dark war film – I mean, it’s set in Vietnam, what do you expect? – that’s also blisteringly funny. I like most Vietnam films, and Apocalypse Now was in the first version of this list, but there’s just something amazing about a film where its first half is about one guy going nuts, and the second half ends with the troops having difficulty fighting a normal woman with a machine gun. Oh, and then singing a Mickey Mouse song.

Kubrick, provocative and brilliant and hilarious as ever.

19. The Last Wave (1977)

Remember what I said about Gallipoli? About Peter Weir restoring my faith in Australian entertainment (despite, of course, these films being old now)? It counts a hell of a lot here. There’s admittedly still something odd about hearing an Australian accent in any movie, but this ceases to matter very quickly.

Of course, I’m biased. Aboriginal mythology + water = I’m interested. No, really. But this is told so creepily, so eerily; it’s like Lynch before Lynch-became-Lynch (interestingly, in the same year as Eraserhead). Some of the images in this are disturbing, and it’d be awful of me to spoil them, so I’ll tread water carefully: the last scene, the radio in the car and the subsequent reveal, the opening.

I don’t think I’ll ever see an Australian film as good as this.

...sadly.

18. Brazil (1985)

At the end of this, I had one question lingering in my mind. “Who the hell were the terrorists?” I looked it up on IMDB and found out pretty darn quickly. See? You don’t have to get a film straight away – or even ever – to think it’s brilliant.

It’s yet another future sci-fi dystopia, I know, but here’s the rub of it; it’s also a very funny one. It’s 1984 played as part-comedy, essentially. So even though we totally buy that Lowry has indeed fallen in love with a girl he just saw on a video screen, and can believe that as true love, it’s also ridiculous, and Gilliam isn’t afraid to show us that. A typical shot of Brazil has a woman wearing a high-heel for a hat and eating clumps of food at a restaurant whilst a bomb goes off behind them and people scream to death. So, being Gilliam, it’s cartoony and somehow depressing all at once.

17. Mulholland Drive (2001)

There’s details I still don’t get in this, but really, it’s always seemed pretty certain to me what the plot of this is. Maybe, I dunno, I’m “clever”. Or, more likely, it’s just that the way this is told immediately puts people off.

Which is a shame, cos this isn’t just postmodern cleverness. Say one thing about Lynch; despite his reputation for being weird and unexplainable, his films always have some sort of emotional core. I gave a shit about Rita and Betty in this film, even though, effectively, they don’t really actually exist. Which, of course, is what we do whenever we see a movie, so Mulholland really makes me think about this sort of stuff.

There are a couple of scenes in this that don’t come off for me, otherwise this would be higher (though all the films from now on are pretty much wedged together as favourites); I still don’t like the diner scene, even though I get what it’s meant to be. In fact, I think this might be the problem with it in general; until you know the twist, the opening scenes seem really stilted, as if the characters couldn’t possibly be real people. As it happens, that’s the case, but we don’t know that yet.

On the other hand, there are some scenes that are simply wonderful. The Club Silencio scene is probably the most powerful of the whole movie for me, disturbing and beautiful all at once; Lynch manages to illicit emotion from me every time he uses singing, it’s really bizarre.

Forget the weirdness, it’s just there to frighten you. This is really, really good.

Oh yeah, and Bown loves lesbians.

16. Requiem for a Dream (2000)

The theme for this sums it up; darkly beautiful, slightly off-beat (and I mean “off the musical beat” rather than “strange”), and mostly just depressing. It’s a downward spiral.

That’s what this is; a downward spiral. I mean, the title of this should’ve tipped you off. It’s bleak and pulls no punches. It flits between reality and fiction with the click of a finger for Ellen Burstyn’s Sara, which is the only time we actually get the slightest bit of warmth or sense of ease in the film. Not for long, though. For the others, however, it’s just endless depression, even when they’re happy.

The cast in this is surprising. Burstyn – the mum in The Exorcist – is just bloody brilliant, but even Marlon Wayans – that’s right, one of the Wayan brothers – is great in this. It all feels natural, as if they were the most obvious cast in the world.

There’s even a Perfect Blue homage. Now that’s class.

15. Vertigo (1958)

Love. It goes without saying that the word “Hollywood” immediately makes us see love in a horrible, cheesy, utterly lame light.

Somehow, this flies headfirst into that territory in the first half – there’s a CSOed shot of James Stewart and Kim Novak kissing passionately in front of a crashing wave, for god’s sake – without feeling twee. Maybe it’s because of the bizarre dreamy feel of the first half. Or maybe it’s because the second half gradually gets more distressing. Suddenly, Stewart’s character becomes incredibly unlikeable, and Novak’s isn’t the nicest person on the planet either.

It helps that the performers are brilliant. This is the most versatile I’ve seen Stewart in any one film, and he’s captivating. Novak, on the other hand, isn’t, well, Grace Kelly; she’s icy and far more complex (without wishing to bash Kelly). The direction is brilliant, too; apart from the now famous “vertigo” shots, it also has an overhead shot of a tower that I kept as my background for months, it is that amazing.

Excellent music, Hitchcock’s finest directing, and wonderful characters. As Liam said, “that’s the best romantic film I’ve ever seen”. Ironically I don’t agree, but then, he hasn’t seen Eternal Sunshine, ahah.

14. Shaun of the Dead (2004)

This is clever. Not just clever in the sense of its satire, or the way it manages to pay homage to respectfully as well as make fun of zombie films... clever in its scriptwriting and its direction. The direction has those lovely little triple-shots – “BANG! BANG! BANG!” – and the writing is amazing. Tons of lines that appear in the first half reappear in a different way in the second. In fact, if you don’t pay attention to the first scene, it’s likely you won’t get this at all.

The acting’s great, too; Nick Frost is always really good, and Simon Pegg is, if anything, underrated.

I’m finding it really hard to write a lot about the comedies. It’s just great, okay?!

13. Rope (1948)

Holy crud, this is underrated. Hitchcock himself apparently referred to it as a failure, which astounds me. It’s one of the best things he ever did.

As experimental as Rear Window, but in a quieter way, Rope kicks along more like a play than a film. It’s shot in continuous takes, which allows the acting to take precedence over anything else. This really, really works. Through glances, through short but meaningful sentences, entire lives are spelled out and worked out. Rope is only about a dinner party, but the way the guests interact is fascinating.

Of course, it isn’t all just gossip; the main drive of the film is that the hosts of the party have killed one of the guests, and have invited the others to eat with the body still there, purely for the thrill of it, the thrill of nearly getting caught.

The performances are bloody captivating. For some reason, Farley Granger’s performance in Strangers of a Train is actually less good than here. John Dall is a bloody godsend. And James Stewart, ironically playing an older man (considering he’d become the romantic lead of Hitchcock’s next few films), is really good too. The end scene sent shivers down my spine.

I could honestly understand why this could bore people senseless, but it riveted me.

12. All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)

My favourite war film ever. Banned in Germany.

You could level criticisms at this. It seems naive, in a way; the acting seems very sort of... oldyworldy. And the Germans are, well, American.

Ignoring the German/American thing, though... the acting is perfect. Somehow, the naive and sorta oldyworldy acting of the kids makes it all the more real. Okay, yes, other war films have shown kids in war, but never this believably. These are kids, full stop. They tie up their drills leader at the start for a schoolboy prank. They attend class. Which is what makes what happens to them later so utterly powerful and so utterly disturbing.

It would be stupid of me to spoil all the best scenes, so I won’t; suffice to say, it really is powerful. I can’t remember ever feeling so much in a war film before. Ever.

11. The Exorcist (1973)

“Do you know what she did? Your cunting daughter?”

Again, this is a horror film that’s darkly hilarious, and endlessly quotable. Linda Blair is quite simply the best child actress I’ve ever seen, so the fact that she basically did nothing else of note is crippling to the soul. The scenes of Regan possessed aren’t frightening so much as sickening, and the devil that’s possessed her has a very naughty sense of humour. “Your mother sucks cocks in hell!”

The opening to this is lovely, but also kinda irrelevant. To be honest, I skip it when I watch this. It’s the rest of it that makes it so amazing to watch. Ellen Burstyn, as Regan’s mother, is astonishing in a quiet way; the way she looks like she’ll laugh and cry at points sums up the tone of the film.

10. Inland Empire (2006)

It’s a puzzle box; it’s the one Lynch film that, even though thematically I get what’s being communicated to me, I’m completely lost on the plot. This only serves to make it even more fascinating, and it helps that – possibly due to the use of DV, which seems to have made Lynch more personal – the imagery is bloody scary too. The soundtrack mixed with the images is like an ongoing nightmare that nonetheless looks beautiful. Laura Dern, mostly single-handedly, manages to make the whole thing feel connected rather than a set of lovely images or anything, and she manages to be a sympathetic figure amongst the terrifying stuff we get fed.

And the whole idea of Rabbits is ingenious.

This is Lynch being the most Lynch he can be. In other words, you’ll either hate it, or it’ll fuck your mind so badly that you’ll become its bitch.

09. Monty Python’s Life of Brian (1979)

Ala Dr Strangelove – though not the same extent – there’s been discussion about the satirical elements of this. Bluntly, they’re a sideshow; they’re what make it intellectually satisfying at the end of the day, they are a side-helping to the main course. And that main course is – no, not something made by the cheesemakers – simply hilarious.

The decision to have Graham Chapman (mostly) only playing the one role, Brian, is essential; it means we’re always following him throughout, amidst all the intense silliness that the rest of the cast throw in with their numerous roles. In a way, this isn’t so much an ongoing narrative as a series of loony sketches – the alien one being the most obscure – but the narrative gives the whole thing drive anyway. It makes it, somehow.

And there’s just something so disturbingly wonderful about that last scene.

08. Perfect Blue (1998)

I love movies that flit between reality and fiction, me. Especially when they manage to comment on each other, when they do so naturally. Interestingly though, I’d say that – with the exception of Inland Empire – it’s possible with all the other films in this list – Mulholland Drive, Requiem for a Dream, The Last Wave, Brazil – to immediately pick out where the reality starts and the fiction ends. It’s simply a sense you have when watching them. Possibly it’s because they’re shot in a tonally different way.

Or possibly, the reason why you can’t immediately pick up on it in Perfect Blue is because it’s animation, and hence nothing immediately corresponds with reality. This allows Kon to dive between actress-filming-movie and bad-dream and real-life again and again, and have scenes replay over and over. As with his other works, there’s a grim realism here offset by over-the-top – and very Japanese – fantasy. The title sequence, for example, and the opening and closing scenes in fact, are all bizarrely fantastical in their own way. Kon finds most Japanese animation childish, and you get the sense of that when watching.

Mima isn’t being threatened by extravagant robots, she’s being threatened by insane fans, and her own image. Having quit being a J-Pop star to become an actress, she suddenly finds that she can’t leave her image behind. It haunts her, taunts her, and generally fucks her up. A couple of grisly murders and a rape later, and she’s on the point of never returning. The last few scenes are gripping and utterly scary. So it’s then amusing when Kon throws in the very cheesy ending.

Animation is childish? Nope. This is still one of the most grownup films I’ve ever seen.

07. 28 Days Later (2002)

How this isn’t in the 1001 Movies list – or the updated one – is beyond me. Danny Boyle may not be the most revered director ever, but he’s always capable of pulling something surprising out of his brain, often in a non-flashy, simplistic way. Without a doubt, the best example of this in 28 Days Later are the infamous opening scenes of Jim walking around a deserted London whilst Godspeed You! Black Emperor plays in the background.

As a film, it’s slow and it’s gorgeous, often sounding angelic in its soundtrack... and then when the Infected come, it’s fast-paced and shocking. Zombies? Pfft. The Infected run like the wind and are rage personified, which is conceptually and literally more scary than zombies who limp around and are, well, consumerism personified.

A lot of critics seem to not like the ending, which surprises me; personally I love it, because it really isn’t about the Infected at all, it’s about the flaws in normal men. I’ve said this before, but the scariest part of 28 Days Later isn’t the Infected, it’s Christopher Eccleston saying “I promised them women.”

Bloody scary and bloody awesome.

06. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

And how this isn’t in the updated 1001 Movies list either is also beyond me...

As I said (about Vertigo), “love” can be such a hard thing to approach in filmmaking. Or at least, you think it is; and then you see something so simple, so heartfelt, as this, and you remember what love is.

Ironically enough, the ending shows Carrey and Winslet in a position that you won’t anticipate, so it’s still grounded in reality. There’s no romanticism to this, just memories. The possible gimmick of removing one’s memories means that we can see their relationship out of order; we see bits and pieces that are relevant at the time, rather than in sequence. This works incredibly well.

The direction is marvellous, and I’m amazed that, apparently, Michel Gondry (another brilliant videoclip dude, along with Jonze) used very simple moviemaking tricks to pull it all off, because it looks fantastic. But more than that, it’s sad and it’s real.

And Jim Carrey’s wonderful in it.

05. A Clockwork Orange (1971)

Not a controversial choice, but a controversial film perhaps. As has been pointed out many times, this asks you to sympathise with a thug who rapes women whilst “singin’ in the rain”.

Personally, I didn’t have any trouble with doing just that. I’m aware that he’s a horrible excuse for a human being, but the rub of the matter is that he is still a human being. And therefore, what happens to Alex in the second half of the film is really, in its own way, just as bad as what he does in the first. There’s no clear morality here, which is often something I find more satisfying in films. We’re not judging anyone, more just seeing that everyone can get things horribly, horribly wrong.

Neglecting that for a minute; the future that Kubrick creates here is interesting. Despite some extravagance, and the promised bizarreness of the opening scenes, it’s not actually as far removed from the real world as you’d think. Compare it to Brazil, for example. But then, if it had been set purely in our time, I think it’d cause an even bigger outrage.

Being Kubrick, there’s some absolutely brilliantly directed scenes in this. The threesome is still one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen, for example. And in fact, we shouldn’t neglect, as usual, how funny this really is. Okay, it’s funny in the usual Kubrick way – i.e. horrible and dark – but it still is funny.

Funny, clever, and disturbing. Just the way I like my tea.

04. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

Despite what I said just then... this is my favourite Kubrick film. Interestingly, it’s not as concerned with dialogue as the others; in fact, there’s nary a comic word in the whole thing. HAL is creepy and effective, of course, but in all honesty, when I remember this I don’t really remember the HAL scenes.

In fact, I don’t think I remember specific scenes at all. This is also the case with Inland Empire, but it also counts here; I see this as more of an experience than something to be picked apart and analysed. Not that I’m saying they can’t, mind you, and I’m sure it’d be fascinating to do so. But 2001 is really just a rollercoaster ride, albeit one that’s also very slow at parts (but never boring, for me anyway).

Remember what I said about Lawrence of Arabia? No? That’s okay, it wasn’t very interesting. The thing is, that film uses the desert in the way 2001 uses space. Bluntly, for all that I adore Hitchcock and Lynch (to name two), you can really divide film into pre-Kubrick and post-Kubrick, as arrogant as that is. This film is fascinated with space itself; with the sparseness and yet the vastness of it. It’s fascinated with time, too, going right from the dawn of humanity to... erm... the dawn of humanity again. The fourth and fifth dimensions looked at with incredible and breathtaking vision.

For all that the imagery is wonderful, I’d argue that it’s not really trying to say anything. 2001 is an ideas film, but it’s also a questioning film. It doesn’t answer anything at all. This may annoy some, but it works wonderfully for me.

03. Psycho (1960)

Alfred Hitchcock’s most famous work is also, surprisingly enough, his best. I’d point to, say, Frenzy as being more indicative of Hitchcock being Hitchcock (i.e. the bloke who was mythic yet sent himself up hilariously in ads and shows), but Psycho is his biggest artistic achievement. The shots are amazing and iconic. Notably, Psycho was deliberately shot in black and white after a run of colour films from Hitchcock, and it was the best possible decision he could have made.

Psycho is usually just summed up as “woman gets murdered in shower”, but there’s a hell of a lot more interesting things going on here. For a start, that scene practically comes out of nowhere. It’s no wonder audiences at the time were screaming in their seats; there’s no buildup to it. In fact, up until that point, Psycho looks more like a heist movie than anything else. And then there’s the aftermath, where Norman Bates discovers the body and realises he has to hide it. Those five-ish minutes, of tense silence, are really quite gripping.

If you don’t know who the killer in this is, don’t find out. No, don’t. It’s a brilliant answer, and I wish I could’ve seen it without knowing.

02. Eraserhead (1977)

This is simply astonishing. Eraserhead is known for its startling images, for its dreamlike landscape, etc, etc. It has all that, and is rather beautiful in a dark way... but it’s also very emotional. The scenes where Jack Nance visits his girlfriend’s family are like Meet the Parents, but funny. Half of the time what’s presented is creepy, yet someone will be pulling a silly expression, and you’ll feel, well, a bit creeped out and also amused.

But the absolute most emotional scene... well, I can’t spoil it, but it’s near the end, and it’s something that Nance’s character does out of fear for himself (that’s my interpretation, anyway). When he did it, I was so utterly disturbed; I actually felt like my soul had been violated.

All this, in a movie that’s seen as artistic and yet emotionless. That’s presuming of course that art and emotion don’t link in any way, which blatantly isn’t true. This isn’t pretentious; it’s genuine, but it does so in another, bizarre world, rather than our own.

01. Trainspotting (1996)

Yeah, okay, I know, this isn’t exactly the best film on this list. But it’s my favourite, and this is a favourites list.

Trainspotting refuses to let you be completely comfortable for even a second. Even when its characters are doing nice things, they’re not. And that’s because its morality is thrown out the window; it’s as if Begbie said, “Morality? Fuck that!” That’s what I love most about this; the fact that, as a wise man once said (Mike Morris, actually), good people do terrible things in this, and terrible people do good things in it too. Trainspotting also refuses to say whether drugs are good or bad, which is also what makes it wonderful. Some people have complained about its refusal to slam drugs, but bluntly, if anyone comes away from this not disliking the idea of taking drugs – or indeed, loving the idea of taking drugs – then there’s something really wrong with them. Why should Trainspotting tell us what to think?

Instead, it just sets up a mirror to humanity. Or perhaps, Scots. The characters in this are just brilliant in every way; Ewan McGregor is of course the most notable as Renton, but the others are great too. And then, above them, there’s Robert Carlyle as Begbie. I mean, come on. What an amazing performance. Scary, and yet hands down the funniest thing about the entire film.

Danny Boyle, again, isn’t concerned with wowing us with visuals here – in fact, he’s even less so than in 28 Days Later. There’s an artistry to the direction here, but it’s not one of flashiness, it’s one of grit, of grime. Realistically, the nicest looking thing in the entire film is the insides of a toilet.

And it’s also just so damn quotable. “Picture the scene...”