What are you people—on dope?!

The results of the OFC 100 Best Films survey are in. Overall, it’s a pretty good list, and it does what it set out to do—namely, recognize some cult and offbeat favorites that tend to get overlooked by the likes of the latest AFI list. It’s a noble ambition; one I’m proud and grateful to have participated in. Real film fans know, for example that "The Empire Strikes Back" is the best of all the "Star Wars" movies; we not only voted it onto the top 100 but ranked it above "Episode IV: A New Hope." Balance has been restored to The Force. Yet for all its iconoclastic intentions, the OFC list seems to have ended up, in some ways, as parochial as the AFI list.

While ironic, this is hardly unexpected. Any time you have a group of rag-tag outsiders trying to take on an established (and some might say elitist) entity, the outsiders invariably take on an elitist pall all their own. It’s simply the nature of an exercise like this. Even when the process is a result of backlash and outrage getting it on under the upturned nose of the AFI.

Nocturnal Omissions
Now, I know everyone is going to have his (or her) own little shit-storms of righteous indignation about things that didn’t make the list. But that’s one of the great things about blogging—whether it’s about films or quilting or whatever: you can participate in a discussion where, even if your opinion is in a statistically insignificant minority, your voice is still heard (if only by random blogosphere passers-by Googling the lyrics to drinking songs from movies). All that said, I can’t help but be appalled by the absence of films that deserve inclusion among the 500 greatest films ever made.

How is it possible to recognize "Silence of the Lambs," but not "Manhunter"? "Field of Dreams" but not "Bull Durham"? And how is it possible for "Die Hard" to finish at #30, but "A Room with a View" doesn't even rate a nomination?

Actually, I have a theory about that. The 502 nominees on the OFC list were compiled by about 50 Web site writers. Some are paid professional critics, but most are simply avid film enthusiast bloggers like me (with a few rather glaring differences in appreciation for the movies mentioned above). To be nominated, a film had to be included on at least three contributors’ lists. If you look at the list of contributors, it’s pretty easy to see how an Edwardian-era comedy of manners is not likely to get on the radar of two other mostly male movie watchers whose tastes apparently tend more toward, well, people punching each other (Raging Bull, Fight Club) and shit blowing up.

I guess what I’m saying is that I know—and truly appreciate—the genuine enthusiasm that everyone brought to the table, blind spots* and all. It really does make up (mostly) for the slights. And I long ago learned to live with the reality that The Right Stuff never seems to make the final 100.

Here’s my official ballot. One final note: because the final tally was based on the number of times a film was mentioned and how highly it was ranked, I tried to give some of my personal underdogs a boost. I don’t actually think that "Out of Sight" is objectively a better film than, say, "The Godfather." But "The Godfather" doesn't need any help topping the OFC list. Just like it did on the AFI list.

The Middlebrow OFC 100:

1. Right Stuff, The (Kaufman, 1983)
2. Young Frankenstein (Brooks, 1974)
3. Out of Sight (Soderbergh, 1998)
4. Casablanca (Curtiz, 1942)
5. Bridge on River Kwai, The (Lean, 1957)
6. Raising Arizona (Coen, 1987)
7. To Kill a Mockingbird (Mulligan, 1962)
8. Risky Business (Brickman, 1983)
9. Lone Star (Sayles, 1996)
10. Last of the Mohicans, The (Mann, 1992)
11. Princess Bride, The (Reiner, 1987)
12. Glengarry Glenn Ross (Foley, 1992)
13. Life of Brian (Jones, 1979)
14. Jackie Brown (Tarantino, 1997)
15. Alien (R. Scott, 1979)
16. It’s a Wonderful Life (Capra, 1946)
17. Boogie Nights (PT Anderson, 1997)
18. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (Hill, 1969)
19. L.A. Confidential (Hanson, 1997)
20. High Fidelity (Frears, 2000)
21. Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back (Kershner, 1980)
22. Sideways (Payne, 2004)
23. Day the Earth Stood Still, The (Wise, 1951)
24. Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (Kubrick, 1964)
25. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (Hughes, 1986)
26. Shawshank Redemption, The (Darabont, 1994)
27. Blade Runner (R. Scott, 1982)
28. Groundhog Day (Ramis, 1993)
29. Election (Payne, 1999)
30. Cinema Paradiso (Tornatore, 1988)
31. Raiders of the Lost Ark (Spielberg, 1981)
32. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (A Lee, 2000)
33. Close Encounters of the Third Kind (Spielberg, 1977)
34. Pulp Fiction (Tarantino, 1994)
35. Usual Suspects, The (Singer, 1995)
36. Shining, The (Kubrick, 1980)
37. Silence of the Lambs, The (Demme, 1991)
38. Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope (Lucas, 1977)
39. Annie Hall (W. Allen, 1977)
40. Graduate, The (Nichols, 1967)
41. Tootsie (Pollack, 1982)
42. Eternal Sunshine of theSpotless Mind (Gondry, 2004)
43. This is Spinal Tap (Reiner, 1984)
44. Aliens (Cameron, 1986)
45. Jaws (Spielberg, 1975)
46. Three Kings (Russell, 1999)
47. Incredibles, The (Bird, 2004)
48. Toy Story (Lasseter, 1995)
49. Monsters, Inc. (Docter/Silverman, 2001)
50. Office Space (Judge, 1999)
51. Untouchables, The (De Palma, 1987)
52. Fast Times at Ridgemont High (Heckerling, 1982)
53. Sullivan’s Travels (Sturges, 1941)
54. Fargo (Joel and Ethan Coen, 1996)
55. A Fish Called Wanda (Chrichton/Cleese, 1988)
56. Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (Ritchie, 1998)
57. Fifth Element, The (Besson, 1997)
58. Godfather Part II, The (Coppola, 1974)
59. Godfather, The (Coppola, 1972)
60. Blow Out (De Palma, 1981)
61. Goodfellas (Scorsese, 1990)
62. Great Escape, The (Sturges, 1963)
63. Full Metal Jacket (Kubrick, 1987)
64. It Happened One Night (Capra, 1934)
65. Jurassic Park (Spielberg, 1993)
66. Lost in Translation (Coppola, 2003)
67. Field of Dreams (Robinson, 1989)
68. Double Indemnity (Wilder, 1944)
69. Casino Royale (Campbell, 2006)
70. Brother, Where Art Thou? (Coen, 2000)
71. Cool Hand Luke (Rosenburg, 1967)
72. Almost Famous (Crowe, 2000)
73. My Man Godfrey (La Cava, 1936)
74. Royal Tenenbaums, The (Anderson, 2001)
75. Amadeus (Forman, 1984)
76. Blazing Saddles (Brooks, 1974)
77. Apartment, The (Wilder, 1960)
78. Conversation, The (Coppola, 1974)
79. Back to the Future (Zemeckis, 1985
80. Monty Python and the Holy Grail (Gilliam/Jones, 1975)
81. Bonnie & Clyde (Penn, 1967)
82. Departed, The (Scorsese, 2006)
83. Laura (Preminger, 1944)
84. Planet of the Apes (Schaffner, 1968)
85. Bourne Identity, The (Liman, 2002)
86. Die Hard (McTiernan, 1988)
87. Goldfinger (Hamilton, 1964)
88. His Girl Friday (Hawks, 1940)
89. In the Heat of the Night (Jewison, 1967)
90. Lady Eve, The (Sturges, 1941)
91. Lord of the Rings, The: The Fellowship of the Ring (Jackson, 2001)
92. Miller’s Crossing (Coen, 1990)
93. Notorious (Hitchcock, 1946)
94. Das Boot (W/ Petersen, 1981)
95. Once Upon a Time in the West (Leone, 1968)
96. Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (Verbinski, 2003)
97. Saving Private Ryan (Spielberg, 1998)
98. McCabe and Mrs. Miller (Altman, 1971)
99. Some Like it Hot (Wilder, 1959)
100. Terminator, The (Cameron, 1984)

*In the interests of full disclosure and a willingness to acknowledge my own blind spots, here’s dozen films that I’ve resolved to see with all possible speed:

All About Eve
Army of Darkness
Days of Heaven
Dog Day Afternoon
Point Blank
The Professionals
On the Waterfront
Ride the High Country
Stalag 17
The Wild Bunch
Something by Bergman
Something by Fellini

Got any recommendations for the last two? In the name of building/restoring goodwill with my fellow movie bloggers, I really would love to hear some suggestions.

Of Underdogs, Dangerfields and Perennial Bridesmaids: 125 films that deserve a second look.

Much as I’d like to claim it solely and totally as my own, the genesis of this survey is actually a DVD thread I posted to over on the Home Theater Spot forums a couple years ago. Thing is, most of the folks contributing to those boards are a little more into the sizzle than the steak. Now, lest that be read as a knock on those guys, let me say this: HTS is a first-rate online resource, for newbies and old hands alike, that’s mercifully light on fan-boy flame wars. Definitely check them out if you’re at all interested in moving your home-theater experience beyond the one or two crappy speakers built into your TV. Just don’t expect to find anyone parsing David Mamet dialogue.

Anyway, I’ve had this list rattling around in my head and my hard drive for a while now and I always thought the blog might be a good way to share it with people whose appreciation of film goes a little beyond whether the soundtrack has enough LFE to cure kidney stones. The combination of filling out Dennis Cozzalio’s/Prof. Van Helsing’s latest quiz and submitting a ballot of the ten most worthy Best Picture winners to Edward Copeland (and realizing how few of my favorite films were also Oscar winners) kind of reawakened the question.

So I put it to the People of Earth thusly:

Name ten movies you consider overlooked, underrated, offbeat and [/or] in general deserving of not being forgotten.

13 people responded, proffering 115 films (give or take a few duplicate suggestions).

In posting his list, Zach Campbell over at Elusive Lucidity quite rightly pointed out that, while "overlooked" and "underappreciated" share a long and fuzzy common border, they are not the same thing. I basically had a momentary lapse in conjunction function, using an “and” where I should have “or-ed.” Sorry. He also wondered,

Should I write about a film I chanced upon that very few people may know, or should I use the space to defend some oft-maligned film maudit? Highlight relative classics from cine-realms generally overlooked by the wider film geek scene I consider myself part of?“

To which I would answer Yes, yes and yes. And that’s just what he did. For what it’s worth, I haven’t heard of—much less seen—any of the films Zach recommends. In fact, only two of the directors’ names (Friedkin and Harlin) are familiar to me. But that’s part of the unexpected pleasure of this experience—I’ve gained a whole new appreciation for that old math chesnut: The extremes define the means.

One thing I noticed early on was the surprising number of sequels—particularly within a genre series—that were considered unduly unsung. I think the tendency is for viewers (myself included) to write off second and (especially) third installments as shameless cash-cow milking. Something Dennis says, at least in the case of Final Destination 2 and Jurassic Park III, is our loss, calling the latter:

lean, mean, brutal and exhilarating, a Jurassic sequel for those who thought the first two...were on the bloated side.

All I can say is I’m glad Dennis is around to kiss all these frogs for us. And to remind us why some of them are worth revisiting.

Edward Copleand also advocated on behalf of undervalued sequels like Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Part 2 and Back to the Future, Part II, about which he wrote:

Sure, it lacks the heart of the original, but it more than makes up for it with the head-spinning time-traveling permutations that keep the film moving at breakneck speed from beginning to end.

Much like Zach, Steve submitted a list that demonstrated just how relative “obscure,” “overlooked,” and “underrated” can be. I suppose I meant those in the context of relatively mainstream acknowledgement of the films. Maybe another way to put the question would have been: Name 10 movies you’d put on your personal recommendations shelf at a video store. In any case, another horizons-expanding list that, like many, championed a few titles that are almost universally dismissed (Kung Pao: Enter the Fist) or reviled (Freddy Got Fingered)—demonstrating another interesting and unexpected side effect of the survey. It got me thinking about what it means to be a true film lover (as opposed to merely a snob): The ability to recognize creative merit and, no matter how pervasive the tide of scorn or indifference, stand up and maintain the courage of your convictions.

That Little Round-Headed Boy and Ross Ruediger both submitted fun, diverse, thought-provoking lists combining films I've seen but failed to appreciate with some that are utterly unknown to me--either way, I'm eager to re/view them. While many commented that their lists were not definitive and could easily be expanded tenfold, TLRHB was the most vocal in decrying the 10-film limit. I know it’s sort of cruel to start with such an expansive, wide-open topic, then arbitrarily hold each person to ten films. But I think most everyone seemed to agree that, combined with not over-thinking what goes on the list, a cap helps to shake out the real gems—or at least the films people are genuinely passionate about. And TLRHB snuck in a coda of another 14 titles, including Men Don't Leave, so it's all good.

The Self-Styled Siren and Exiled in NJ each weighed in with some welcome feminine perspective (not to sell short the contributions of Ixtab and Tammara, regular patrons of ADS who happend by on what turned out to be film-geek night and were good sports to play along). Even though I’ve never seen (and barely know) any of the Siren’s picks, she shares my affinity for The Bridge on the River Kwai, so her list gets automatic benefit of the doubt. While The Siren represented for old-school Hollywood, Exiled’s submissions ran the gamut of eras and genres. Although I don't tend to think of The Last of The Mohicans as underrated, I agree that the range and breadth of Michael Mann's filmography is criminally overlooked; Tin Men is quite possibly my favorite film by Barry Levinson, who's always at his best when the setting is his beloved Bal'mer.

A couple submissions included movies that were on various iterations of my own list. My first response was slightly resentful ambivalence (“Man, he got to that one before I did.”) Because, sure, I want all the movies on my list to feel like my own personal cache of best-kept secrets. But, given the cine-literate chops of those submitting, I now take it as a validation of my own instincts about these films. (“See? Edward Copeland thinks Lone Star is the shiznit, too. Ipso facto, I’m a genius!”)

Among directors, Robert Altman got the most nods (for McCabe & Mrs. Miller, 3 Women, and A Wedding), although more people, including ADS gadfly Mister Underhill, rallied around David Cronenberg’s work, specifically

Naked Lunch and Videodrome. After that, several directors tied for perennial bridesmaid status with a pair of films each:

• John Sayles (Lone Star [EC, MM], The Secret of Roan Inish [Ixtab])
• Bruce Beresford (Black Robe [Fish, MM], Breaker Morant[MM])
• The Coen Bros. (Miller’s Crossing [EC], The Hudsucker Proxy [Patrick])
• Oliver Stone (Salvador [Patrick], Talk Radio [RR])
• Roman Polanski (Bitter Moon [RR]; MacBeth [ENJ])
• Albert Brooks (Lost in America [TLRHB]; Defending Your Life [MM])
• Michael Mann (Manhunter [MM], The Last of the Mohicans [ENJ])
• Steven Soderberg (Out of Sight; The Limey [MM])

So, other than fattening everybody’s Netflix queues, what’s the point of this?

My hope is that some of these will be complete (but pleasant) surprises, a few might elicit an “Oh, yeah, how could I have forgotten that?” and, with any luck, one or two might actually change your mind about something you’d dismissed for some reason. Ravenous, recommended by Ross Ruediger and seconded by Afraid (all the way from NZ!) fits neatly into that last category for me. I also appreciated the riffing eclecticism of Ross’ list, going from the darkness of Polanski’s Bitter Moon to the earnest buoyancy of Love Actually, which he cited as a personal benchmark:

The day I can write a screenplay that's as simultaneously light & complex as this one, I'll believe that I actually know a thing or two about filmmaking.

(Quick confession: this whole time, for some reason I was confusing Love Actually with Down with Love. Not sure how that happened. Just needed to make the adjustment in my head, replacing Rene Zellweger and Ewan MacGregor with, well, a whole raft of British ensemble players. Okay, got it. Carry on.)

In any case, here they are, in more or less the order they occurred to me: Ten films that I think ought not to be missed or forgotten.

True Stories (1986)
Written and directed by David Byrne (yes, the Talking Heads frontman, here trading his signature big suit for a comically large Stetson). It’s the amiably surreal story of a fictitious Texas tech-boom town and its array of colorful denizens preparing for its sesquicentennial, a “Celebration of Specialness,” told with the kind of quirky, offbeat rhythms of, well, a Talking Heads song. Features John Goodman, Swoozie Kurtz, and the late Spalding Grey. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this when answering Prof. Van Helsing’s question about the best argument for allowing rock stars to participate in the making of movies. I’d still have gone with Levon Helm, but this certainly rates a mention.

Mostly Martha (Bella Martha) (2001)

Recently, someone asked Entertainment Weekly critic Owen Gleiberman about great food movies. He responded with the usual suspects—Tampopo, Babette’s Feast, Big Night—but conspicuously omitted Mostly Martha. Which immediately qualified it officially as both Underrated and Overlooked, at least in my mind. I considered dashing off a missive to correct the oversight, but then remembered that my blog, with its readership easily double that of EW (and that’s just the people looking for drinking-song lyrics) would make a better forum.

This is a charming and bittersweet German romantic comedy (which might seem like a quadruple oxymoron, I know, but go with it) about a chef, the titular Martha, who has to learn how to live and enjoy life without always being in control. It could be said that the film plays up cultural stereotypes about Germans and Italians; I submit that it can be forgiven because it does so with such genuine affection. And because it makes such memorable and effective use of Paolo Conte's "Via con Me." (Something I’m now kicking myself for forgetting when Professor Brainerd posed a question about best use of a song in a movie.) It probably goes without saying that you'll feel like eating Italian afterward.

Breaker Morant (1980)
I have very fond memories of this as a great date flick from the early '80s (watched on VHS sometime in the late ‘80s with the future Mrs. Middlebrow). Kind of an Aussie western-cum-court-martial drama directed by Bruce Beresford (Driving Miss Daisy, Black Robe), it’s not so much overlooked or underrated (it actually generated a fair bit of acclaim as I recall); more one of those ‘Oh, yeah, that was a great flick’ sort of films. Next time you get a yen for something like Out of Africa, but with, y’know, actual drama, check this out. With Bryan Brown, Jack Thompson, and Edward (The Equalizer) Woodward.

The Adventure of Sherlock Holmes' Smarter Brother (1975)

How's this for obscure? Because it starred Gene Wilder, Marty Feldman, and Madeline Kahn, and came out shortly after Young Frankenstein, people tended to mistake it for a Mel Brooks film; in fact it was written and directed by Wilder, who also plays the title character, Sigerson. Actually, ‘plays’ is far too understated a term for the mania that undergirded Gene Wilder’s acting style in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. Not that there’s anything wrong with that; certainly it gave The Producers, Young Frankenstein and Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory their demonic charges. Though not nearly as good as YF, TA0SHSB is arguably a more serviceable genre parody/mad-cap romp than the lesser lights in the Brooks’ canon. Among some very funny moments is one with a giant buzz-saw. And at least one insidious song. "Come on and...hop! Hop! Come and do the Kangaroo Hop! Hop! That's the dance for me and you..."

Manhunter (1986)
The original screen adaptation of Thomas Harris’ "Red Dragon," which was recently (and unnecessarily) remade with Edward Norton and Anthony Hopkins. Basically the first of the Hannibal Lecter movies, although he's actually a secondary character in this. Directed by the versatile and underappreciated Michael Mann (The Insider, The Last o/t Mohicans, Heat, Thief, Collateral) and starring William Peterson (of C.S.I. fame). A stylish and adroitly made thriller that offers a compelling case for violence implied over violence depicted. This is an example of a film that the cognoscenti would never consider underrated; if anything, the making of Red Dragon probably helped boost its stature and, by extension, raise or renew the audience's appreciation for the fine job done by all involved the first time around.

Run Lola Run (1998)
Another fun German flick. Directed by Thom Tykver and starring his then-girlfriend, Franke Potente (from The Bourne Identity) in the title role. Basically, it’s a lesson in what to do when your idea for a film is good for only about 25 minutes of screen time: tell the same story four different ways. The result is kind of Rashomon with a wink and a nod (and a fluorescent pink fright-wig).

Out of Sight (1998)
Not exceedingly offbeat, per se; yet, after The Right Stuff, it is (to me) the quintessential example of a film that deserves much more recognition and appreciation than it ever got. One look at the poster tells me the studio clearly didn't know how to promote it; no wonder it got lost or overlooked. I suspect, too, that timing played a part: a lot of people tended to write it off as just another TV pretty boy trying to succeed where David Caruso had fallen on his pasty, pouty kisser. And there was certainly nothing about The Peacemaker to disabuse anyone of that notion. In fact, this turned out to be not only an expectations-defying, genre-transcending piece of work, but the beginning of a period of creative collaboration I consider on par with Scrocese and Deniro. George Clooney and a pre-J.Lo Jennifer Lopez have some of the best on-screen chemistry since, well, ever. But the real testament to Steven Soderberg's direction is how the chemistry crackles among all the characters. Of course, it helps that the supporting cast is utterly free of weak links: Don Cheadle, Dennis Farina, Steve Zahn, Ving Rhames, Katherine Keener, Luis Guzman, and Albert Brooks. And it's the last--and I think the best--in a troika of great Elmore Leonard adaptations (Get Shorty; Jackie Brown), so how can you miss?

Defending Your Life (1991)

Speaking of Albert Brooks. Among his fans, this probably isn’t obscure at all; I consider it his best film. In any case, it’s absolutely required watching for anyone stuck in an existential rut or generally feeling beaten down by life. Like It’s a Wonderful Life, it truly makes you want to live every moment. It's also pee-your-pants funny. But in that really smart, sophisticated yet nebbish Albert Brooks way. Also, Meryl Streep and Rip Torn provide a sweet/tart moderating influence that makes it all the better.

The Limey (1999)
Quick synopsis: Terrence Stamp kicks nine kinds of ass. The End.

Some might consider Steven Soderberg’s use of non-linear narrative a self-indulgent stunt; I think it makes Lem Dobbs’ crackerjack script and a tour-de-force leading performance backed by a first-rate ensemble into an even more enjoyable film-lover's movie. To me it’s an example of a director asking the viewer to engage on more than a superficial level, then rewarding that participation with something truly worthwhile. (It helps considerably that I saw back-to-back screenings of this on a transatlantic AirFrance flight.) This film marks a transition for Soderberg between his experimental phase (The Underneath, Schizopolis) and his ascendancy into mainstream success and fame (Traffic, Erin Brockovich, Ocean’s 11). With Luis Guzman, Peter Fonda (?!), Lesley Ann Warren, and a deliciously snarky Nicky Katt (whom the Onion AV Club recently included on its list of Character Actors Who Should Be In Every Movie).


Hard Eight (a.k.a. Sydney) (1996)

Anyone who likes Paul Thomas Anderson's work (Boogie Nights, Magnolia, Punch-Drunk Love) will likely enjoy his feature debut. Of course, no serious PTA fan would be unaware of this, right? Set in the seedy all-night motels and casinos of Reno, it stars actors who would become part of Anderson’s repertory company—Philip Baker Hall, John C. Reilly, and Philip Seymour Hoffman—as well as Samuel L. Jackson and a bright young ingénue named Gwyneth, uh, something. At times it feels like an MFA thesis project; looked at in that regard, it’s an amazing achievement, packed as it is with all those genre-defying atmospherics that presage Anderson’s later work. I read somewhere that Anderson objected to "Hard Eight" on the grounds that it sounded like a porn title. Which would probably be fair complaint coming from anyone other than auteur of Boogie Nights. Like the Soderberg citations above, this is one of those great showcases of a director with or developing a singular style, who’s lucky or smart enough to find actors who share and can interpret his vision.

The Imposters (1998)
More proof that, done properly by actors and filmmakers with a modicum of talent and a soupçon of passion, even a madcap farce can be worthwhile cinema. Stanley Tucci wrote and directed this slice of trifle as an apparent homage to Laruel and Hardy, the Marx Brothers, et al. But, really, it’s Tucci and all his indie-movie pals cutting up and having a ball—as if someone brought a wind-up Bolex to the Big Night wrap party and things just sort of took off. It works—unlike similar formulas (cough*OCEAN’S 12*cough)—because they never stop including the audience in the fun. (Thankfully, no one thought it would be just hysterical to mention how much the famous actor Sir Jeremy Burtom resembled the famous actor Alfred Molina. What, me, bitter?) Worth a look if only for the way Campbell Scott wields a riding crop and air-kisses “Tchuss” to Lili Taylor.

Two more examples of how great minds think alike:

Black Robe (1991)
Fish summed this up so eloquently and completely in his submission that there’s little I can add. (Not that that will keep me from trying.)

It’s not really a surprise that Beresford’s stark, sometimes brutal, and always unflinching culture clash would be considered unpalatable to audiences still in throes of a Dances With Wolves contact buzz.

Even though I can honestly say I appreciated Black Robe on its merits, I didn’t really hold its lack of popular acclaim against DWW. I, like a lot of people, was taken in by Costner’s romanticism and, consequently, willfully ignored the revisionism of it. The film was a popular success because Costner gave people a view of the West as they wanted to believe it had been. I’m not sure DWW deserved the Oscar, but didn’t deserve the backlash that developed over it, either.

But that's all academic. The best film to compare with Black Robe isn’t Dances With Wolves--it’s Driving Miss Daisy. To me, the idea that they were both directed by Bruce Beresford is second most awe-inspiring thing about Black Robe. The first is, of course, everything Fish said about it, along with an establishing shot of the priest’s party setting out in canoes across an enormous lake—a visual as powerful, heartbreaking and compelling as anything John Ford ever committed to celluloid.

Lone Star (1996)

Edward Copeland had this on his list, along with an excellent summary. Here’s my $0.02:

Part mystery, part love story, this is my favorite John Sayles (Eight Men Out) film. Every time I watch it, I see some little nuance and appreciate just what a master storyteller this guy is. The cast, as in all Sayles' films, is outstanding, centered on Chris Cooper's (Adaptation) beautifully measured performance. One of the best-kept secrets in American cinema.

A final thought: I had hoped that more of my IRL friends and fellow-cinephiles would have weighed in. Maybe this will spark another round of submissions and suggestions (though, after trying to compile this digest, I’m not sure if this is a fear or a hope. Dennis, you have my sympathies--and a whole new level of respect.)

Okay, that's it. Show's over. Get thee to a video store and get busy.

What? You're still here? Go home!
(After leaving a comment, of course.)

Lists. Mostly, we make lists.

As you probably know, Edward Copeland has extended the deadline on his Best of the Best Pictures survey. Good news for you (us?) procrastinators and Johnnies-come-lately. For what it's worth, I had mine in last week; I'm just now getting around to posting them here, owing to the nice influx of visitors--many of them coming via Edwards kind link--contributing to our survey of overlooked and underappreciated films. If you'd like to weigh in, you can go here--but only after you've sent your 10 Best Best Pictures list to Edward.

Also, Dennis Cozzalio is still taking submissions for his latest quiz. He was kind enough to not only link to our survey, but provide some great, unexpected and interesting suggestions as well. Be sure to give him a look. You can read Dennis' BotB list here.

And thanks, too, the That Little Round-Headed Boy for jumping in with a list of 10 great overlooked gems (and by 10, I mean 18 or so--way to go the extra mile, RHB!) that has kept the coversation lively in the comments section and on his site, too.

Okay, enough with housekeeping; on with the countdown.

The Ten Best Best Pictures

10. Amadeus

Spectacle, tragedy and a brilliant performance by a guy named Murray. From the director who brought you Hair. Aside from that, the way that it breathes life into the otherwise flat, abstract history of dead, European white men makes the whole enterprise so sublimely worthwhile.

9. In the Heat of the Night

I’ve only ever seen this one on TV, in fragments, and never from beginning to end in a single sitting, yet it’s made an impression on me sufficient to rate inclusion here. Maybe if I watched the DVD, it’d rate higher. Certainly one of the all-time best on-screen slaps. At its essence, two titans of the craft in a battle of wills and ego that’s singularly satisfying. (God help me, I’m starting to sound like James Lipton.)

8. Tom Jones

I’ve seen it only once, on VHS about 20 years ago, but it was recommended by and watched with the girl who later became my wife, so it has a place in my heart as well as my top 10 Oscar winners list. Of course, there’s the rightly famous food scene that conflates lust and gluttony into a single not-so-deadly but oh-so-delicious sin. And the ribaldry. Let’s not forget the ribaldry. In general, it’s just such a shameless, good-time romp; the bawdy, lascivious hedonism of the ‘60s distilled into 128 deliriously intoxicating minutes.

7. Annie Hall

Dear Woody Allen,

It’s taken me about 20 years to forgive you for beating out Star Wars, but in that time, through many viewings of both, I’ve come to appreciate that this was one of those rare instances when the Academy got it right. In other words, the best picture for everyone but 12-year-old boys in 1977 was indeed Annie Hall. Also, a quick note of thanks for introducing us all to the inimitable Chrisopher Walken as Duane, the loveable psychotic who fantasized about driving head-on into oncoming traffic.

Your friend,

Mr. Middlebrow.

6. The Silence of the Lambs

One of those rare movies that’s at once pleasurable and disturbing to watch, owing mostly to the dynamic between Lecter and Starling. The rest of the rationale for it being here is sort of ineffable. I just really like it.

5. Shakespeare in Love

I don’t know if it was resentment over Gwyneth Paltrow not deserving Best Actress (which she didn’t) or that it beat out Saving Private Ryan, but I was surprised to see this voted one of the least deserving. For me it ranks among the 10 best because it’s a pitch-perfect meditation on the creative process, a love letter to the concept of a muse. It’s also just a thoroughly enjoyable, smart, funny, sexy movie. Tom Stoppard’s script is sprinkled with just the right amount of anachronisms, meta references and in-jokes, but it always feels inclusive while humanizing the Bard. Also, it’s my little way of protesting Platoon beating out A Room with a View, in 1986.

4. It Happened One Night

My introduction to screwball comedies, Frank Capra and Claudette Colbert. Needless to say, I was immediately smitten; as a bonus, I also got a whole new appreciation for Clark Gable, whom I’d known up to that point only as Rhett Butler. Pure joy this brilliant never fades.

3. The Godfather Part II

However absurd it might be to pick the latter of the two GFs, there’s something about it that I find just ever-so-slightly more satisfying than the first. (In case it isn’t obvious by now, I’m firmly on the side of ‘favorites’ vs. objective, qualitative ‘bests.’) Maybe it’s a preference for Deniro over Brando. Mostly it’s the Michael story and the way Al Pacino delivers lines like “I know it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart!” and “They came into my home. Into my room, where my wife sleeps and my children come to play with their toys.”

2. The Bridge on the River Kwai

Most people tend to favor Lawrence of Arabia, but this is my favorite David Lean opus and one of only two movies on this list I consider a must-own. Like pretty much everything here, it holds up well to repeated viewings and never feels dated or quaint. I’m always awestruck by Alec Guinness’ performance and the fine line he walks between honor and madness. As soon as my wife deems it appropriate, I plan to watch it with my son and, I hope, show him what it means to be a man of integrity and principles, to live by a code. There are very few films that put those abstract ideas into such compelling, wholly authentic action and manage to be so sublimely entertaining at the same time.

1. Casablanca

I have a feeling that this will be—quite rightly—the slam-dunk, undisputed number one, so I wonder what, if anything, I can say about it. I can tell you what makes it my favorite Best Picture (and number two, behind The Right Stuff, on my all-time personal faves list): The performances of Peter Lorre and Claude Raines and all the little ancillary subplots and details that dart in and out of “the problems of three little people,” adding up to far more than a hill of beans. The brilliantly woven totality of it—the writing, the direction, the stars, the supporting players, the historic immediacy of the story—is what makes the golden age of Hollywood golden. Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.

A smorgasbord of surveys: My Contribution

That huge, shuddering sigh of relief you might have heard was me submitting my answers to Dennis Cozzalio's latest movie-lover's quiz. It was a humdinger, lemme tell you. Exhausting, exhilirating and enourmously enjoyable. Like attending a personal film festival in your own head.

If you're least bit interested in movies and enjoy long, rolicking discussions and debates about all things film, I can't recommend Dennis' blog enough. If you can find the time, definitely take the quiz.

It was from Dennis that I learned of Edward Copeland's survey of the best Best Pictures. I'm planning to submit my list shortly. While checking out the rules (and trying to assiduously avoid reading Edward's list until I've finished mine), I found a link to South Dakota Dark, who's conducting a Best/Worst TV show survey.

All of this quizzing and surveying got me thinking about a survey post. It goes a little something like this:

Name ten movies you consider overlooked, underrated, offbeat and in general deserving of not being forgotten.

The only hard and fast rule is that the film never won a major film award—no Oscar winners, no Cannes Palms d’Ors.

At first I thought of considering Oscar nominees that didn’t win, but that would include movies like Goodfellas and Citizen Kane. Not exactly offbeat or overlooked. So, thinking about it, let’s extend the ban to Best Picture nominees. That still leaves a pretty wide open field. (Of course, if you can make a good case for something that's been forgotten, by all means, have at.) Also, by virtue of the amount of traffic this site gets, I’m thinking I’ll compile this Dennis Cozzalio style: just post your list in the comments section and I’ll create a digest of all the submissions. If, by some miracle, that becomes too unwieldy, I’ll switch over to the Edward Copeland method of ranking films based on a points system (10 points for #1, etc.)

If you'd prefer (and by 'prefer' I mean to avoid the hassles of creating a Blogger ID just to leave a comment), you can email your submissions to mr_middlebrow@yahoo.com.

Naturally, I’d love a little commentary about each film on your list.

Just to prime the pump, I’ll post mine in a few days.

Until then, I'll leave you with this thought: because the preponderance of my blog traffic is people looking for the words to the drinking songs from Jaws, that's automatically disqualified (the people looking for drinking-song lyrics, on the other hand, are encouraged to participate). Although I can't imagine who would consider Jaws obscure offbeat or in danger of being forgotten. Especially since, having set up this site, I am single-bloggedly responsible for the revival of Jaws. Still waiting on royalty checks from the 30^th anniversary DVD. So far, Spielberg isn't returning my calls. Ungrateful bastard.

Time of your life, huh kid?

I recently happened upon Dennis Cozzalio's excellent blog, Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule. As the name implies, it's a dense and decadent dark-chocolate shrine to two great national pastimes (and personal passions of mine) movies and baseball. Fortunately, there's no content about pork, otherwise I'd be incapable of ever leaving.

Along with some excellent film criticism and commentary on the state of movies generally, Dennis occassionally comes up with these questionnaires just, I suppose, to provoke self-reflection and keep the conversation lively. His latest is Professor Brainerd's Christmas Vacation Quiz. Having taken it, I can say it not only succeeds wildly on both counts--I especially liked how it teased out some unexpected or forgotten reasons I love movies--but it's also left me a bit anxious about what Opening Day might hold in store. Baseball has become more of a nostalgic abstraction than an active interest.

Anyway, my answers are posted in the comments area of the Quiz and also below. Feel free to comment and offer answers of your own.

1) Describe the moment when you knew you loved the movies

Sometime between summers of ‘76 and ’77. That’s a long ‘moment,’ I know. Through an odd combination of fate and nepotism, I landed a part-time job running the projectors at The State, an All Seats $0.99, second-run theatre in Oregon City, Oregon. I was 11.

Mind you, these were the waning days (at least at The State) of alternating, carbon-arc fired projectors running 20-minute reels. Remember the little cue dots that would flash in the upper right hand corner?

Not only did I get to see multiple screenings of kiddie matinee fare—Abbot & Costello Meet _______, lots of Disney live-action stuff, The Bugs Bunny Road Runner Movie, etc., I also got a survey course in ‘70s cinema: Jaws, Young Frankenstein, early/funny Woody Allen (Love and Death and Take the Money and Run), and a raft of random mid-70s flicks: Thunderbolt & Lightfoot, American Graffiti, White Line Fever, Gator, Summer of '42, White Lightning, Walking Tall, Food of the Gods, Sherlock Holmes’ Smarter Brother, Dirty Mary and Crazy Larry, Mother, Jugs and Speed, Gone in 60 Seconds, The Eiger Sanction, Silver Streak, etc.

Most of it was borderline to wholly inappropriate for a pre-teen. But it sure beat the hell out of a paper route. Especially since, along with wolfing down my weight in popcorn and soda (or pop as we called it then), I made enough money (@ $1.10/hr.!) to buy a sweet 10-speed. The bike is long gone but the impression of those movies on the screen in my head--along with screams of 'Focus!'-- is as vivid as ever.

Of course, ’77 was also the Year One of my chronic cinephilia, on account of a little indie sleeper called Star Wars. Which really just makes Revenge of the Sith feel all the more like a betrayal. What the fuck, George?! You were supposed to be the chosen one!

Fast-forward to 1986, when I discovered the Coen bros. ("Turn to the RIGHT!")

The die was cast.

2) What prop or costume from a film do you most covet? *

Chuck Yeager’s A2 (leather flight jacket) from The Right Stuff.

3) Take a famous role and recast it (for example, Audrey Hepburn instead of Andie McDowell in Four Weddings and a Funeral) *

Robert Duval instead of Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman.

Sting as Lestat in Interview w/ a Vampire. (Could just be the subliminal influence of his “Moon Over Bourbon Street” talking.)

Also, I always thought a young Martin Sheen would have made a great Jack Ryan (The Hunt for Red October, etc.)

4) Charlton Heston or George Kennedy?

George Kennedy. Cool Hand Luke and the Airport movies.

Plus, Phil Hartman’s Chuck Heston bits on SNL (“It’s people! Soylent Green is peeeeopllllle!”) pretty much did him in for me. Actually, Wink, I’d like to combine this question with the previous one and imagine for a moment that they swapped all their roles. I’d love to have seen Kennedy in Planet of the Apes. Or chomping a cigar, Joe Patroni-style, during the chariot race in Ben Hur.)

5) Best performance in an otherwise terrible movie?

Color me stumped. Oh, wait, I’ve got one: Bobcat Goldthwait in Police Academy 2.

6) Worst performance in a famously revered or otherwise great movie?

Andie McDowell in Groundhog Day. I just wince every time she opens her mouth.

7) Christopher Lee or Peter Cushing?

Grand Moff Tarkin. What more can I say?

8) Favorite Walter Hill movie

Gotta go for the mainstream choice here, sorry: 48 Hours. Although I must give a nod to Streets of Fire as a pure guilty pleasure. You got Diane Lane and a snarky, weasely Rich Moranis, and Introducing Willem DaFoe as The Heavy. Those soaring Jim Steinman musical numbers. And The Blasters! And the Ry Cooder score! So maybe I’m double-dipping or gilding the lily (dipping the lily twice in gold?) since I get the feeling the question is meant to shine a light on the idea that the guy’s whole schtick is cult/guilty pleausre?

9) Favorite musical score from a movie

Ocean’s 11 (2001) by David Holmes.

Anything Lalo Schifrin ever did.

Koyaanisqatsi by Philip Glass. You literally can’t separate the music from the visuals.

10) Describe the most scared you’ve ever been in a theater, or the scariest moment you recall seeing in a movie

I’m just not a horror-movie fan, so I should opt out of this one.

I have to say, though, that the first twenty minutes of Saving Private Ryan was nothing short of a mouth-agape, consciousness-altering moment for me. It delivered the utterly un-romanticized horrors of war, the chaos of combat like no movie I’ve ever seen—before or since. I wasn’t scared, so much as, I dunno, enlightened. Horribly, horribly enlightened.

Also, the TV ads for The Exorcist were enough to give me nightmares as a just-about-to-take-first-communion Catholic kid. Which might explain my general aversion to horror pics—especially anything satanic. I've since developed an equally strident aversion to Catholicism, but that's another blog post.

11) Ingrid Pitt or Barbara Steele?

Okay, you’re just making these up now, right? Just to flush out the posers?

12) Favorite Holiday Movie (doesn’t have to be Christmas oriented)

It’s a Wonderful Life

How the Grinch Stole Christmas!
(The 1966 Chuck Jones version—NOT the live-action knock-off)

The Ref (as an antidote to holiday hypoglycemia)

13) Worst Holiday movie (doesn’t have to be Christmas oriented)

Even though I wouldn’t deign to see it, I’m going to have to go with the aforementioned live-action Grinch, just on principle. Why, Ron Howard, why?

14) Your all-time favorite hammy actor

Gary Cooper. Man, what a scene-chewer! Kidding--just wanted to see if you're paying attention.

First blush: William Shatner.

Upon consideration: William Shatner. Though, for some reason, Edward G. Robinson comes to mind. Probably the earlier mention of Soylent Green.

15) Favorite Federico Fellini movie

Here, I have to cop to being out of my depth. I can name lots of Fellini titles, and I’ve used the expressions “Fellini-esque” and “You don’t have to be Feillini to figure that one out” with impunity. But I have yet to actually see a Fellini film. The horror. The horror.

16) Your favorite film critic

Anthony Lane, of The New Yorker, hands down.

17) Jason Lee or Jason Mewes?

Much as I love Mewes’ shamelessly id-driven Jay trying to get busy with Linda Fiorentino as all life as we know it is about to be snuffed out, in Dogma, Lee’s performance as Buddy/Syndrome in The Incredibles (on top of the rest of his work) tips the scale in his favor.

18) Best use of a natural location setting in a movie

The Last of the Mohicans (four years living in Asheville, NC, near Chimney Rock, where the final showdown with Magua takes place, will do that to you.)

19) Worst squandering of a natural location setting in a movie

Oregon City, Oregon, in Bandits. (No falls? No elevator? The hell?)

Also the worst squandering of Cate Blanchett.

20) Favorite song from a movie

First thought: Bruce Springsteen’s "Secret Garden" from Jerry McGuire. But really that’s more like 'most grievously overlooked by the Academy for best song nominee.' What’s with those people and their unholy affection for Phil Collins treacle?

From an actual musical: "Me ‘Ol Bamboo" from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Gotta love the ribald subtext of Ian Fleming. Especially in a "family" film.

21) Madeline Kahn or Teri Garr?

What am I, Freddy Frankenstein? (“It’s pronounced ‘Fronk-en-steen’”)

Madeline Kahn, by a Teutonic titwillow’s breadth.

22) Favorite Roger Corman Movie

Again, not enough appreciation for the genre to offer up a worthwhile answer. If I were to see one, it’s probably be the Frankenstien movie with Deniro and Ken Branaugh.

23) Your biggest movie-star crush

Fay Dunaway in Bonnie and Clyde; Myrna Loy in The Thin Man.

24) Director you’ve always felt deserved more attention than he/she ever got or has gotten up to this point, and a highlight for you from his/her career

There was that one guy, Albert Hickock, Freddy Tchotchke, something like that. He did a bunch of movies that were pretty good. Really messed with your head. There was the one with the guy in the shower.

Seriously, um, what the hell happened to Paul Brickman?

Risky Business is The Graduate of my generation, with the role of “plastics” being performed by “dermatology.”

Then Men Don’t Leave was a really worthwhile, if lower profile, sophomore effort. Then, poof. He’s gone from the radar.

Also, I have to second Snake Plissken’s nomination of Michael Mann. You look over his filmography and you can’t help thinking, Wait, these were all done by the same guy? He’s got so much range; the only thing many of his films have in common is a journeyman’s attention to craft and detail. He’s one good romantic/screwball comedy away from being this generation’s Howard Hawks.


25) Michelle Yeoh or Ziyi Zhang?

Dead heat. Though, given that Risky Business is fresh in my mind (“He said the lady had knowledge. And he was glad to get that knowledge. Because college girls can smell ignorance. Like dogshit.”) I’m going with older and presumably “wiser” Ms. Yeoh.

26) If the movies’ were to give you a Christmas gift, or a gift for 2006, what would it be? (I mean “the movies” in the most general sense—the film industry, the actors, a director making a certain film, whatever)

Oh, so not the same answer as question #2 then. Got it. (‘Cause, seriously? Yeager’s A2 would absolve a whole jumbo tub of popcorn’s worth of sins.)

Would mild electrocution to or near the genitals of the ass clowns who ruin a movie with their incessant jabbering and cell phone ringing be too much to ask?

I went to, like, three movies last year and every one was, to some degree, marred by a basic lack of consideration. Things that used to be the irksome exception seem to have become the rule.

I know it’s not really ‘The Movies’ to give, but if they could somehow get the man-cub to sleep through the night and be able to be left with a competent sitter, that would be good, too. Yep, that and the ‘nad-shockers and we can pretty much call it a day. God bless us, every one!

* Thanks for the suggestions, Jen!

Okay, so that's 26. But what's the holiday season without a surprise stocking stuffer? Happy holidays, everyone!

Thanks, Dennis. What a great ride!