Critic, The Village Voice
|La Règle du jeu
|Aguirre, Wrath of God
|Céline and Julie Go Boating
|TOPIO STIN OMICHLI
La Règle du jeu
Hands down the greatest film featuring a gorilla suit.
A world of understanding about the dreamy dogfight between cinema and consciousness, packed into 45 minutes. My favorite broken-vertebrae movie.
Hardly number one, but still a movie with perverse poisoned quills all over it. A masterpiece of toxic masculinity.
Aguirre, Wrath of God
Daredevil time-travel bedevilment. Herzog's bid for sainthood.
Céline and Julie Go Boating
Rivette's sisterhood version of Road to Morocco, and just the right length.
The first film that redefined narrative as a plastic passage of time-space that never truly ends.
The perfect, perfectly shaken-not-stirred Lynchtini. Simultaneously a Freudian Mother of All Bombs, a satire on the Hardy Boys, a psychosexual audience crucifixion, an elegy for lost innocence, and a genuine mystery. It’s everything.
TOPIO STIN OMICHLI
An epiphany of loneliness, and Angelopoulos' sweet-spot world-beater. Hold your breath.
My list's order -- not necessarily the films themselves -- might change tomorrow. Ah well; look all that I left out, including filmmakers -- Godard, Bunuel, Ozu, etc. -- whose films shine best as part of their aggregate oeuvres. In fact, that's probably a more fecund, and more rewarding Top Ten poll strategy: life's work in toto. Half of the films I listed would be on that list. Other art forms do it that way; nobody votes for Best Painting or Best Poem. Why not a Nobel Prize for Cinema?