Top 50 Old Movies: Part 5

 #10: Il Buono, il brutto, il cattivo

aka The Good, the Ugly, the Bad
aka The Good, the Bad and the Ugly
1966

There are two kinds of people in this world, my friend: those who dig this movie and those who haven’t seen it. If you’re like me and you can’t stay awake for American westerns, you simply MUST check out Sergio Leone’s “spaghetti westerns,” named after the country they were made in, Italy. The best of this cult sub-genre is inarguably The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, a super-cool action epic about three men after buried Confederate gold during the Civil War. “The Good” is a cigar-chompin’ sharpshooter with lightning-fast hands and impossibly good aim. Clint Eastwood in a poncho has become a mythical figure, like a superhero of the western genre. "The Bad," on the other hand, is pure evil. He’s a heartless hitman that will do anything for money. In his introduction, two different men hire him to kill the other. He obliges them both. He murders the first in classic spaghetti-western style: by having a long conversation with him that slowly gets more and more suspenseful before suddenly erupting in action. Then he visits the second man and shoots him in the face -- four times. But “The Ugly” has always been my favorite. He’s a hilarious, buffoonish bandit that’s in that moral gray area. He only got into ugly crimes to support his family. Each of the trio come to possess a different clue as to where the gold is buried, though the clues are useless without the others. Only by combining the pieces of the puzzle can they find the treasure. But cowboys don’t share. It all culminates in a showdown that makes the three-way in Debby Does Dallas look like the three-way at the end of my street... an oldschool Mexican standoff where nothing happens for five minutes, and it’s perhaps the best five minutes ever put on film. Overflowing with style, wit, and violence, the film features an amazing score by Ennio Morricone. It also inspired every scene in every Quentin Tarantino film.


#9: Bonnie and Clyde
1967

Punk film of the century! Based on the true story of part-time gangsters, full-time lovers Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow, this biopic follows their legendary crime spree during the early thirties, which began as small-time hold-ups and car-hopping, and quickly escalated into bank-robbing and cop-killing. Warren Beatty and Fay Dunnaway glow as the title characters. When I was a kid, I wanted to be just like Clyde, and I never had a bigger movie crush than I did on Bonnie. Gawd, she’s gorgeous! Rounding out the rest of the Barrow Gang are Moss, a Leprechauny young car junkie, Buck, Clyde’s badass big brother, and Blanche, Buck’s annoying, stuck-up wife. Gene Wilder even makes his film debut as a comical hostage they “kidnap” to show they’re actually good people behind their crimes. The characters are so real and the dialogue so fresh, it feels like you’re really along for the wild road trip with them. The film has a kinetic energy to it. I’m talkin’ pure, rebellious fun. It’s an "eff you" to the crooked law, the greedy banks and the dishonest newspapers. B&C is widely credited as the first film in a new era which I personally call the Middle Ages of Film History. It was the film that struck the deathblow to the Hays Office by shocking the world with its sympathetic portrayal of the criminals, loud social themes, sexual nature and gory violence. It’s social counterculture at its best: the Barrow gang actually become Robin Hood-like folk heroes to the poor. The screenplay is full of analogies between sex and violence. Clyde is revealed to have some sort of erectile dysfunction, which is presumably what led him to vent his sexual frustrations in a life of crime. Bonnie, on the other hand, is turned on by the excitement of the danger. The action scenes feature some of the best editing you’ll ever see, the most popular being the car chase set to the bitchin’ banjo boogie, “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.” The great depression was never so much fun!

#8: King Kong
1933

Screw Citizen Kane. I regard this as the “greatest” film of all time. It tells the tale of Carl Denham, the world’s most daring filmmaker, and his idea for a new film is his ballsiest yet: he plans a journey to Skull Island, a mystical land where monsters rule. His goal is to capture footage of dinosaurs, fantasy creatures, and of course, the king of the island: a giant gorilla. If you read my Sinbad review (#36), you know how big a fan I am of stop-motion and Ray Harryhausen. Well, this is the movie that inspired Harryhausen. It’s so old that it's the first “talkie” on this list; so old that scientists didn’t yet know that the Brachiosaurus was an herbivore; and so old that the Empire State Building didn’t yet have the needle on top. But the film has stood the test of time, and it still crushes either of its pathetic remakes. It’s the kind of story that shares that immortal status with the timeless fairy tales of old. It’s a joy to behold, an extremely action-packed fantasy and one of the best monster movies ever made, perhaps because Kong isn’t such a monster at all. In the beginning, Denham is the protagonist and Kong is the villain. But by the midpoint, their roles are reversed as our empathies switch. We come to care for the beast and grow contempt for the man. From the thrilling T-Rex fight to the tragic ending atop New York City, the stop-motion effects are incredible, and still look far better than the CG in Peter Jackson’s remake. The filmmakers devised all sorts of innovative special effects techniques to combine the live action footage with stop-motion. They also created a full-scale head, arms and legs for Kong so that he could chomb, grab and stomp his victims. Kong was a mighty landmark -- the Pong of film history. Speaking of videogames, without this film, there would have been no Donkey Kong, the first Mario game... That means without Kong there would be no Mario! Bow down, gamers!

#7: Shichinin no Samurai
(Seven Samurai)

1954

I’ll take a Japanese “eastern” over an American western any day. In feudal Japan, a desperate village hires seven samurai to protect them from an army of bandits. Waitaminute. Seven vs. forty? Hell yes. Akira Kurosawa made some mad films, and this was his masterpiece. It mixes philosophical dialogue with strategic warfare. The seven ronin are all well-developed, each diverse in character and skill. Their leader, Kambei, is a wise, old veteran, though, as his badass introduction proves, he’s far from rusty. The second is a mercenary who means business with a bow ‘n arrow. The third is an old war buddy of Kambei’s who specializes at building defenses. The fourth is a mediocre swordsman but a great jokester -- you gotta have good company around during wartime. The fifth is the greatest fictional swordsman who ever lived -- the only way to describe him is “robot ninja.” The sixth is a young battle-virgin in awe of the others. And the seventh is a comical wanabe-samurai who carries a blade so long, it makes Sephiroth’s katana look like a toothpick. This was an extremely influential film, marking the beginning of many popular trends, including the concept of gathering a group with different areas of expertise and the iconic shot of an army of horsemen galloping over a hilltop. This is also a great insight to Japanese culture circa 16th century, not to mention the samurai film for the uninitiated. The noble warriors aid the poor villagers not for money or power, but because it’s the right thing to do. That’s what samurai were all about: honor. Kurosawa was a perfectionist. He insisted on location shooting over studio sets; for the bow ‘n arrow scenes, he cast professional archers to shoot specific points on the bandits’ bodies which concealed a wooden block underneath the their tunics; he used wind machines and rain machines to achieve weather effects that matched the emotion of the scene. In fact, when Akira wasn’t satisfied with the initial look of the rain machines, he dyed the rain black to achieve the precise look he desired. The film is set at the end of the Sengoku period, a.k.a. Japan’s middle ages. In other words, everything’s medieval except a fancy new toy called the rifle, which sadly enabled even the lowliest thug to defeat the greatest warrior. Seven Samurai is a sad but beautiful tribute to the days of old.

#6: The Thief of Bagdad
1924

Before CG, before color, and even before sound, there was The Thief of Bagdad, the earliest film to make the list, and also one of the most overlooked! It’s an epic medieval fantasy about a common thief who falls in love with a princess. To prove his worth, he must go on a treasure hunt that takes him everywhere from the bottom of the sea to a tower in the clouds. With the help of a flying carpet, an invisibility cloak and a genie’s magic, he wages battle with a dragon, a giant spider, and a Mongolian army. Any of this sound familiar? You bet your ass it does! This was one of the most iconic and influential fantasy films. The production values are seemingly limitless. I’m talkin’ huge, elaborate sets, a cast of hundreds, a phenomenal musical score and a nonstop extravaganza of amazing special effects (for its time). Though many of the effects are dated, I still think they’re awe-inspiring, if only for how ambitious and innovative they were. The Pegasus flying across the midnight sky is clearly just a horse wearing fake wings galloping before a greenscreen, projected over a three-second loop of clouds. But if that sounds lame, so are you! I challenge modern audiences to see past movie wrinkles to the beauty underneath. The Thief even developed an early color technique: sections of the film are actually dyed different colors -- the underwater scenes are green, the fire cavern is red, etc. The thief himself is one badass mofo! In one scene, he throws a family ring into the air and slices it in half with a sword! In another scene, he sneaks into a church and yells, “Paradise is a fool’s dream and Allah is a myth!” You could get away with shit like that in the silent era, as that was before the Hays Office started ruining movies with censorship. The Thief is my favorite medieval fantasy of all time -- a timeless story with a timeless lesson: “Happiness must be earned.”

#5: Planet of the Apes
1968

One of the first cult classics, Apes was the tale of four astronauts that crashland on a beautiful, mysterious planet where apes are the intelligent species and men are the animals. It was written by Twilight Zone writer Rod Serling, and if you’re a fan of the show, this film is a nightmare come true. It’s basically a big-budget, two-hour episode! In classic TZ fashion, it uses a science-fiction setting to symbolically satirize everything from modern politics and war to religion and sociology. It’s a cool sub-genre I like to call “poli-sci-fi.” Charlton Heston is dynamite as Taylor, a cold, cynical astronaut who left Earth because he despised his fellow man. His nemesis, Dr. Zaius, is a terrific villain. He’s one of those frustratingly corrupt bastards you just… can’t… stand! The Doc is both the Minister of Science and Chief Defender of the Faith. Think about it. There are barely any special effects the entire movie, but I didn’t even realize it until afterward, I was so engaged. Franklin J. Schaffner’s direction is some of the most creative and wonderful work I’ve ever seen. His camera does crazy things like spinning upside down in a nauseating POV shot. Schaffner must have started as a porno director, because he always knew just the right angle to photograph the action from to elicit maximum excitement. The elaborate makeup effects were so good, the Academy decided to invent an Oscar for Best Makeup, which Apes was the first recipient of. Jerry Goldsmith’s score is like nothing else you’ve ever heard: it’s atonal, full of strange and chaotic riffs that refuse to adhere to a time or key signature, which really suits the twisted nature of the film. I don’t dare spoil anything for those who haven’t seen it, but I will say that there are many shocking surprises, best of which is the powerful, mind-blowing finale.

#4: The General
1927

Chugga-chugga chugga-chugga CHOO-CHOO! That’s what you’d hear the whole time if this wasn’t a silent film. A slapstick comedy set during the Civil War, it follows a railroad engineer that’s sucked into the battle when Union spies steal his two true loves: his woman and his train. And something tells me he loves the latter more than the former. This film will blow you away: it's jam-packed with hilarious and thrilling chase scenes between trains. You’re probably thinking, “How much could they do with chase scenes confined to tracks?” You have no idea. This film has my #1 and #2 favorite chase scenes of all time. Writer/director/star Buster Keaton clearly knew everything there was to know about trains. But he wasn’t just a locomotive enthusiast. He was a silent comedian on par with Chaplin (in my opinion, better), and a daredevil that did all his own stunts, many of them insanely ballsy. He’s constantly risking his life for a laugh. His crew was instructed to “keep shooting until I say ‘cut,’ or die.” This kind of film could never be made today. Not only because modern films disguise their lack of any real danger with CG, but because no studio in its right mind would ever fund such a dangerous film today! You can tell Keaton is doing everything for real, and holy cow-catchers, is it impressive! Not just the stunts, but the extremely clever ways he integrates them. This is action-writing at its best, full of exciting cliffhangers that are hilarious sight gags at the same time. Despite the fact it’s a comedy, I also think it’s one of the most incredible period pieces that contains one of the all-time best "big battle scenes." It’s such an ancient film, it’s easy to forget that it isn’t set at the same time the film was made, but some sixty years prior. I showed this film at a movie night to many skeptical, reluctant friends who had never seen a silent film before, let alone a black-and-white film. By the end of the evening, they all thanked me for such a mind-opening experience.

#3: Jaws
1975

Ah, the film that gave me aquaphobia. This the earliest film I ever remember seeing (my rents always let me watch R movies as a kid), and I’ve barely set foot in the water since. It’s the greatest horror film of all time, because it will haunt you long after you’ve seen it. Who doesn't know the story? A Greate White shark is terrorizing a popular resort town, but the greedy mayor refuses to close the beaches at the beginning of the tourist season... FEEDING TIME! Before the beach turns into an all-you-can-eat-buffet, the chief of police (Roy Schieder), a marine biologist (Richard Dreyfuss) and a professional shark hunter hit the sea to hunt down the beast themselves. Speilberg is my favorite director (five of his films made this list), and I rank this as his finest. Surprisingly, it was his breakthrough film. It was also the first Summer blockbuster, and the first movie to earn over a hundred-million at the box office! Most horror films have awful screenplays, but what sets Jaws apart is that just as much attention was given to the story and characters as the scares -- it’s as good a drama as it is a horror film. Spielberg wisely chose to keep the shark largely unseen for most of the film, which builds terrific suspense. The Great White is slowly revealed through horrifying glimpses. And come the third act, they suddenly pull out all the stops. The monster was brought to life with a giant mechanical shark and underwater footage of a real shark, a miniature boat and a midget. But the climax wouldn’t be half as good without all the foreplay. There's a lot of great dialogue to boost the shark’s reputation, like “You’re gonna need a bigger boat,” which Schieder improvised, or all the cold facts from Dreyfuss, or the chilling monologue Shaw gives about the U.S.S. Indianapolis. But the best touch of all was John William’s score, which features one of the most brilliant and recognizable motifs ever: two simple notes. It’s man vs. nature at its best, but beware: you’ll never look at the water the same again.

#2: The Godfather
1972

This is the ultimate guy movie, or, as I call them, “dick flicks.” If you’re gonna watch The Godfather, you gotta do it right: with all bros, no hoes and some great Italian food. The king of the gangster films tells the story of a modern royal family, the Corleones, as they fight for control of New York City against the other Five Families. Vito Corleone is an elderly crimelord preparing to pass his monarchy on to his four sons, but when he refuses to join the other Five Families in the narcotics business, a mob war breaks out. Too often, great scripts get only a decent director, cast, or soundtrack. But here's one movie that somehow got perfect execution in every category. Marlon Brando plays the Godfather, one of film’s greatest characters and performances. His four sons are: James Caan as the eldest, Sonny, who uses his fists before his head; John Cazalle as the sweet but dim-witted Fredo; Robert Duvall as the smartass family lawyer, Tom Hagen; and Al Pacino as Michael, the youngest son who doesn’t want anything to do with the family business. There are twenty-three murders throughout the film, and each is staged in unique and memorable ways. Victims are executed by pistol, shotgun, tommy gun, car bomb, garrote, and even decapitation. The film was very controversial for its visceral violence, as well as glamorizing organized crime in general. The Godfather isn’t a cold-blooded killer. He’s a respectful, loving family man that opposes heroine. It was also unusual to see such an anti-drug film in the early seventies. Nino Rota’s score is full of hauntingly beautiful pieces. Just hearing that opening trumpet solo over the Paramount logo gives me a semi-chub. Mama mia! It’s-a-great!

#1: ??????

If you've come this far (or impatiently scrolled down), you probably expect an erect review of an orgasmic film. Well, I don’t mean to disappoint you with a premature ejaculation, but I just don’t think I could do my #1 justice with a simple review. After all, it's my favorite film of all time. Instead, I've decided to write a completely separate, hardcore, in-depth review.

Thanks for reading my reviews! Hopefully they'll help convince movielovers of the future to dig up movies of the past.

Top 50 Old Movies: Part 4

#20: Harold and Maude
1971

Forget Romeo and Juliet. Harold and Maude gets my vote for the greatest tragic love story of all time. Harold is a nineteen-year-old emo obsessed with death; he stages theatrical suicides for attention, attends the funerals of strangers for fun, and he drives a hearse. Maude is a 79-year old eccentric obsessed with life; she loves music, art, nature, inventing, and breaking the law. What starts as an unusual buddy film becomes an even more unusual love story. H&M is a deliberately offensive film that throws the finger at societal norms, intentionally appalling the faint of heart and closed of mind. But it’s also an unusually quiet film. Harold’s decisions are constantly belittled by the adult figures in his life, yet he never offers so much as a defense for his actions. And somehow, his silence speaks louder than any monologue on how “love knows no age” ever could. About halfway through the film, there’s a shot that only lasts for one second: a close-up of a barcode tattoo on Maude’s arm, a mark given to concentration camp prisoners in the holocaust. It’s a powerful image that explains everything about her character and adds a whole new layer to the story -- all done without a single word. Cat Stevens provides an uplifting soundtrack, with a mix of previously written hits and originals, including the wonderful theme song, “If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out.” The few who didn’t walk out of the theater were rewarded with one of the greatest endings ever put on film: a miraculously moving montage that covers a passage of time in a chaotic, scrambled order while Stevens’ beautiful ballad “Trouble” wails along. Heartfelt, hilarious and mind-opening, this is definitely one of those “love it or hate it” films, and you’ll probably have to be at least a quarter emo to love it.

#19: Amadeus
1984

In reality, the prodigal Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart mysteriously died at the age of 35. This fictionalized biopic poses a possible explanation: what if he was murdered by a rival composer? Told from the villain’s perspective, Amadeus tells both the story of Mozart’s life and success, as well as his "assassin" Salieri’s jealousy and loss of faith. Music buffs take note. This is a film about composers for composers. Mozart was truly a genius, and this film really does him justice. You get to hear all his “greatest hits,” learn all the stunning facts and see the amazing methods behind his composing. It’s a shame Mozart wasn’t born two-hundred years later. He would have been a millionaire and the most popular celebrity in the world. But back in the eighteenth century, there were no LP’s, no CD’s and no MTV. Concerts were a good temporary source of income, but the bulk of a classical composer’s income came from teaching pupils, which Mozart had no patience for. All he wasted to do was compose… and party. Mozart was incredibly talented yet incredibly reckless. He was history’s first rockstar. Despite creative liberties made in the story, the film is a great biography, as well as a fabulous period piece. It was shot in the city of Prague, which, thanks to the Communist government, looks nearly identical to how it did in the 1700’s. The period set designs, costumes and makeup are all top-notch. It took four hours to apply the “old Salieri” makeup to F. Murray Abraham. This is also a great film for agnostics/atheists. It aims a lot of critical questions at religion. Normally, churches are very reluctant to let you shoot anything sacrilegious inside them, but since the Prague communists were all atheists, they were happy to comply. My only criticism of the film is the title. Why “Amadeus” over “Wolfgang” or “Mozart?” What’s next, a biopic on Ludwig van Beethoven called “van?”

#18: The Jungle Book

1967

The last film personally supervised by Walt Disney was also his best. Bagheera the panther discovers Mowgli, a mancub left in the wild, and delivers him to a pack of wolves (to be raised, not eaten). Ten years later, a man-eating tiger, Shere Khan, returns to their end of the jungle, which prompts the wolfpack to order Mowgli be escorted back to the man village. I love movies like this: there’s a simple premise in the beginning, and the rest is just full of episodic obstacles. It has a really fun freedom to it, like a Star Wars or Indiana Jones film. The rich animation hasn’t aged a bit. I love how in these old animated films, you can differentiate cells from the backgrounds, anticipating which objects are going to move within the shot. But even better than the visuals are the songs. Oh, baby, what a soundtrack! Who woulda thought the Indian jungle had such swingin’ jazz?! En route to the man village, Mowgli boogies with Baloo, a carefree bear, Kaa, a hypnotic python, a parade of war elephants, a vulture quartet who take after the Beatles, and (my favorite), King Louie, an ape who wants to evolve into a human. The menacing Shere Khan is only spoken of until the third act, which builds him a great reputation, and also serves as a looming threat behind all the fun. It all comes together with a trademark Disney silly-yet-serious action sequence, followed by a very clever ending. Sadly, Walt pulled a Bruce Lee and died during production. At least they both went out on top.

#17: Apocalypse Now

1979

Apocalypse now: the motto of a group who believe technology has come too far and dream of starting over. Consider me one of them; I believe a society that’s created the power to destroy their own planet deserves just that. The story follows Captain Willard, a special ops soldier obsessed with war. In return for his great accomplishments in Vietnam, the army offers Willard anything he wishes. All he asks for is another mission. Boy, does he get it. He’s hired to assassinate Colonel Kurtz, a renegade U.S. soldier who’s gone “completely insane” and formed an alliance with the Viet Cong in the Cambodian jungle. But as Willard journeys up the Nung river to find him, he begins to wonder if it’s Kurtz who’s gone insane… or the American army. The intrigue and anticipation surrounding Kurtz is fantastic. We only see pictures of him and hear a recording of his voice. When we finally meet Kurtz, we see him on only teasing glimpses of light. He’s often regarded as one of film’s most interesting characters -- an enlightened man full of insight and wisdom. But I actually found Willard even more interesting: a cold, distant and troubled man who gets a rude awakening. The poetic screenplay really depicts the horrors of war, and Coppola’s direction gives the film an eerie, nightmarish vibe that makes you feel a bit crazy yourself… or is it enlightenment? Apocalypse Now is, hands down, the greatest anti-war film of all time. In fact, it’s such an anti-war film that it doesn’t even culminate with a big battle scene. A conventional ending would have Willard teaming up with Kurtz to defend his Buddhist temple against Kilgore’s awesome helicopter assault. But instead, what we get is a symbolic, anticlimactic ending that’s bound to leave the average moviegoer mystified.

#16: Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory
1971

Yum. Just thinking about this movie gives me a sweet tooth. International frenzy erupts when Willy Wonka, the world’s most enigmatic candy man, hides five golden tickets in his Wonka bars, announcing that five lucky winners will win a chance to tour his magical factory, a lifetime supply of chocolate, and a special surprise. All the kids turn out to be spoiled, rotten brats, except for a kind boy named Charlie. This was the Wizard of Oz of the 70’s: a colorful musical-fantasy for audiences of all ages. But if you ask me, the Oompa Loompas could kick the Munchkins’ asses any day! Underneath the edible imagery and catchy songs, the film is actually very sick and twisted. Wonka is, in essence, a sadistic murderer who preys on the weaknesses of the children. He remains careless and calm while the selfish, naughty children systematically succumb to bizarre and tragicomic fates. His factory is a world of its own, full of wonderful things like a chocolate river and fantastic inventions, as well as terrible things like a horror ride and dangerous temptations. It’s all very Seussian, complete with Gene Wilder as the “cat in the hat.” The songs are great, especially "Pure Imagination." My only complaint is that Charlie never gets a turn at the mic. His mom has a song, his grandpa has a song, his local candyman has a song, Wonka has a song, the Oompa Loompas have songs; even one of the other kids has a song, but for some blimey reason, they didn’t bother to give a song to the protagonist! What gives? Other than that, Willy Wonka a scrumdiddlyumtious film that always leaves me in a great mood. And it’s infinitely better than Tim Burton’s version. Why does he keep remaking films that were already classics?! Oh, right, because that's what every director does nowadays.

#15: North by Northwest

1959

This was like the original Bond film, predating Dr. No by three years. And no offense, James, but none of your twenty-some missions have retrieved anything as valuable as NxNW. Cary Grant stars as Roger Thornhill, an ordinary insurance salesman that gets swept into deadly spy games due to a case of mistaken identity. Before he knows it, he’s on the run from spies (who think he’s a government agent), and the government (who thinks he’s a spy). Thornhill himself is a lot like Bond, a wisecracking, smooth-talking counterspy. James Mason plays the theatrical villain, Martin Landau is his cold but feminine henchman, and the gorgeous Eva Marie Saint plays the babe-a-licious blonde Thornhill meets on a train. Screenwriter Ernest Lehman spins a terrific mystery full of great twists, lovably cheesy romance and thrilling tension. Hitchcock was truly the master of suspense, and this film was his best! There’s a creative car chase in which our hero has no choice but to drive drunk in order to escape his would-be assassins. Later, the badguys attempt to off Thornhill from a biplane Kong-style. My favorite part was a ninja-like infiltration into the villain’s posh, mountaintop house, including the most intense “edge of your seat” moment ever put on film! And of course, the film ends with a famous mountain-climbing chase across the faces of Mt. Rushmore. Hitch storyboarded every shot before production, he had a great eye for cinematic storytelling, and he was quite daring. When denied permission to shoot at the United Nations, he disguised the film truck as an icecream truck and shot the desired footage from across the street anyway. When denied permission to film at the real Mt. Rushmore (apparently, staging murders on the presidents’ faces was deemed too offensive), Hitch constructed his own faces out of replicas and enormous paintings. He even snuck some sexual symbolism into the film’s final shot that the censors didn’t catch. The tension is heightened by an amazing score by Bernard Herrmann. As much as I love the film, it has another one of those titles I don't care for. “North by northwest” isn’t even a real compass direction. Although it would be an easy title to draw in Pictionary...

#14: Back to the Future

1985

Great scott! This is heavy: Marty McFly is your average guitar-shredding, skateboarding teenager living in 1985 until the mad scientist, Doc Brown, accidentally sends him back to 1955 (in a souped up, time-traveling DeLorean, no less). As if being stuck in the past isn’t bad enough, Marty runs into his parents when they were in high school, and inadvertently gets his own mother to fall for him instead of his dad, threatening to erase his very existence. This sci-fi-high-school-adventure-comedy is not only endlessly entertaining, it’s one of the greatest screenplays ever written. Every single little itty-bitty thing becomes important later on. It’s full of what us writers call “plants” and “payoffs,” many of which you won’t even notice the first viewing. The whole mother-son infatuation sounds grodey, and it was the reason Disney refused to back the picture, but director Robert Zemeckis executes it so well that the attraction comes off as comical and suspenseful instead of tasteless. The dialogue is priceless, especially the doc’s techno-babble -- who doesn’t know how many gigawatts of electricity the flux capacitor needs to break the time barrier? I can’t imagine anyone playing the leads beside Michael J. Fox and Christopher Lloyd. Fox is such a likable, believable teenager, and Lloyd gives the most delightfully over-the-top performance since Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard. But it’s easy to forget how good the supporting cast is. Lea Thomson and Crispin Glover excel as Marty’s parents (in both ‘85 and ‘55), and seeing them in the past after seeing them in the present really is like seeing your own parents back when they were in high school. Last and least, there’s Biff, the big, buttheaded bully, who was voted the #1 “baddest bad guy” by one of my favorite fellow film critics, James Rolfe. BTTF is one of the all-time great sci-fi films, and there’s hardly even any CG in it. But it’s full of that good old-fashioned movie magic. Through great storytelling, a little makeup and those wonderfully mysterious musical cues, the film evokes more awe and wonder than special effects can. If you’re one of the few people on the planet that somehow haven’t seen this one, I’d say it’s about time.

#13: Little Shop of Horrors

1986

Little shop… little shoppa horrors! Little shop… little shoppa terror! Bob sh’bop, doo-wop a-scooby-dooby du-bop! Ahem. Sorry. I adore musicals, and this is one of my all-time favorites! It’s a campy, rock ‘n roll monster-movie-musical-comedy about a flower shop on the verge of bankruptcy until a nerdy employee, Seymour, discovers a “strange and unusual new plant,” which brings him fortune, fame, and the attention of his dream girl. But there’s one little catch: the plant feeds on blood. Little Shop is adapted from an off-Broadway musical play, which was adapted from a non-musical B-movie from 1960. The story went from the film to stage and back again, and in the process grew into something amazing. The 50’s-style songs were written by Alan Menken and Howard Ashman, who would later compose the soundtracks for many of the neo-Disney films, including The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin. The Little Shop soundtrack may not be their most popular, but I actually think it’s their best. The songs are a thrill ride for the ears. It’s the kind of movie you’ll end up watching with a group who sings along with every song because they know all the lyrics. I love love-stories about a nerdy guy vying for a seemingly unattainable girl; they’re so inspirational. Rick Moranis is perfect as Seymour. He’s just so lovably nerdy. Ellen Greene was so good as Audrey in the stage version, she was cast as Audrey in the film, too. The supporting cast is filled with SNL stars, including Steve Martin as a demented, drill-happy dentist. But it’s the plant that steals the show. “Audrey II,” aka “Twoey,” is a marvel of movie monsters. The incredible, CG-like creature was actually an elaborate puppet (you won’t believe it), ran by up to forty puppeteers at once, all running levers beneath the set like frantic exercisers at a gym. Speaking of puppets, the film was directed by Frank Oz, better known as Yoda.

#12: Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
1984

This severely underrated prequel pits Indy against a Thuggee cult to rescue magical Sankara stones, with the help of a goofy Chinese sidekick and the hindrance of a ditzy blonde. The film features many scenes that were originally planned for Raiders, such as the swordfight (which Ford improvisationally bypassed by simply pulling his gun in Raiders), the daring escape from a doomed airplane and the infamous mine-cart chase that inspired those classic Donkey Kong levels. Now, this film has really a bad rep. It’s widely considered the black sheep of the trilogy, and I think I know why: it was too dark for most people. That’s probably why it’s my favorite. Temple is gross, gory, scary as hell, and it’s the only one that’s centered around a different mythology. Temple is all about dark magic, which probably isn’t as familiar and family-friendly as the Christianity seen in Raiders and Crusade. Instead of God and holy artifacts, there’s voodoo, curses and human sacrifice. The Temple itself is full of Hellish imagery. In my opinion, Temple had the only great villain on the series: the dark magician, Mola Ram. It also had my favorite sidekick, Short Round (played by the goofy Asian kid from The Goonies). Indy’s love interest, Willie, isn’t as cool as Marion Ravenwood or as hot as Elsa Schneider, but she’s definitely great comic relief. The action scenes are spectacular, typically featuring multiple conflicts that are dependent on each other. Indy uses his whip the most in this film, by far. If that isn’t cool enough for you, he also uses a sword on multiple occasions! The MPAA wanted to give Temple an “R” rating. In response, Spielberg argued there should be a rating between PG and R, and thus, Temple was the first film to receive the PG-13 rating.

#11: The Sting

1973

In this classic Disney film, bumblebees fight to reclaim their stolen honey from a pack of greedy bears... Sucker! It's really a documentary on the rock musician Gordon Sumner, aka "Sting." Psyche! See how easy it is to trick people? That’s what The Sting’s all about. It’s actually a heist film about two con artists (Robert Redford and Paul Newman) that plan an elaborate “sting” to get back at a rival crime boss (Robert Shaw). Along the way, they dodge hitmen, cops, and even the feds… but can they trust each other? I love heist films, and this is hands-down the best of the best. The heist is extremely complicated, yet easy to follow and a joy to watch unfold. The plot involves building a phony betting parlor from the ground up, casting dozens of conmen as actors, suspenseful complications, excellent chase scenes and the best card game ever put on film. As complex as it seems, pulling those kinda jobs were actually common in big cities during the Great Depression. The ragtime soundtrack single-handedly revived 30’s jazz, especially its theme song, "The Entertainer." Amazing period detail, great action scenes, classy jazz, old-fashioned title cards, and a phenomenal script are just a few of the reasons this crime caper stole 7 Oscars. It was made by the same cast and crew that made Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, but in my opinion, that film’s gotten criminally overrated while its little brother’s been shortchanged. The characters pull all sorts of tricks on each other throughout the film, but the best ones are those played on the audience.

Up next: the thrilling conclusion! Click here for Part 5.