It's Not Psychology, It's Metaphysics: Jules and Jim (1962)

Every romantic comedy involving an awkward and convoluted triangle love affair has Francois Truffaut to thank, his 1962 masterpiece Jules and Jim.  Truffaut's film, very much lodged in the ideals of The French New Wave, portrays two stalwart friends and a sexually free woman engaging in an intimate relationship in every sense of the word.  The stylistic nature of New Wave filmmaking allows Truffaut to portray the frantic nature of love between multiple people by undercutting dialogue, jumping to reactions early and even inserting long inexplicable shots of the natural world around the characters, all adding a genuine feeling of spontaneity to experiencing love.  Truffaut, as he does with many of his films, captures the essence of human nature, often focusing on the tragedies of existence, but always reminding viewers that even the most dire of situations can procure moments of happiness.  Jules And Jim is an unconventional look at the trials and tribulations that is at all times honest, absurd and heartfelt.  It should be no surprise that the film is tied very closely to Truffaut's own life experiences, a practice reflected in many of his works, most notably The 400 Blows.

The title characters Jules (Oskar Werner) and Jim (Henri Serre) are the ideal male pal combination.  Jules an Austrian novelist and critic and Jim a French poet find themselves enamored with each others intellect and love for the written word.  Throughout the early portions of the film they find themselves perusing the nooks and crannies of Paris, often translating the seminal literary works of each ones respective countries and relating it to their own seemingly mundane lives.  It is assumed that their rather repetitive existence promises to remain untouched, however, when both of them meet the quirky, yet attractive Catherine (Jeanne Moreau) infatuation occurs instantly, for both Jules and Jim find themselves attempting to win over the heart...and body of Catherine.  After a variety of humorous competitions, mostly of a verbal nature, it is Jules who wins Catherine over and takes her to live on the Parisian countryside.  Jim accepts his loss and succumbs to loneliness.  Both accept their situations and even fight a in a war that pits them against one another and all seems fine, however, a few months after the war Jules invites Jim to visit him at his country home.  While doing so, Catherine, whether inadvertent or not, seduces Jim and the two begin to confess their previous feelings.  After a series of miscommunications and letters, Jim discovers that he is to be the father of Catherine's child.  However, Catherine loses the child, but not her affection for Jim.  In a rather awkward moment, Jules catches Catherine and Jim in a moment of intimacy, but chooses to pretend it never occurred and instead passively asks for Jim to remove himself from their home.  Realizing that she is madly in love with Jim, Catherine drives herself and Jim off a bridge into water to assure that they can be together in death.  The film then cuts to Jules, narrating the funeral of both Catherine and Jim explaining that Catherine's casket was relatively small, while Jim's was quite large, reflecting his rather grandiose nature.  This final commentary by Jules says it all, the relationship that proved most important was the one between two friends, who know each others most intimate secrets and that Catherine, for all intents and purposes, ruined their bond both figuratively by becoming a romantic interference and literally by killing Jim, thus separating him from Jules indefinitely.

As I noted this film is a very intimate work on the part of Francois Truffaut, particularly because this film is quite reflective of his close, though brief, relationship with Jean-Luc Godard.  Godard and Truffaut share the spotlight in The French New Wave and film critics continue to debate which individual can claim rulership as the film movement's leader.  The duo built their close relationship while working as film critics for the Cahiers Du Cinema and began making short films as side projects; often incorporating each others help as it proved necessary.  The ultimate result was the creation of two distinctly different directors that just happened to use a lot of the same methods.  In fact, the two worked so closely that many actors appeared in both directors' films and both directors borrowed the others unused footage.  Their friendship proved most productive with the release of Breathless, a film written by Francois Truffaut and directed by Jean-Luc Godard.  Both Godard and Truffaut received international acclaim for this film, as did Truffaut for the previously mentioned film The 400 Blows.  It seemed as tough Truffaut and Godard were destined to be best friends for life and continue to work in collaboration well past the fall of The French New Wave.  This change, however, with the rise in workers revolutions in France during the early 1960's.  Godard and Truffaut found themselves promoting differing political ideologies during the revolts high points.  Their relative views became so severe that the duo broke off their friendship and ceased contact up to the point of Truffaut's death in 1984.  In my opinion this film reflects this occurrence in Truffaut's life, even if it predates the actual fallout between the two directors.  Jules is intended to represent Godard, particularly given the directors Swiss origins and Jim is undoubtedly Truffaut a fact that is only made more probable by Godard previously making a film titled Charlotte Et Son Jules.  Jules and Jim end their relationship and fail to rekindle it before Jim's death and the same thing occurred between Godard and Truffaut.  I know this all implies that Truffaut is a psyching, but I am not saying it is meant to reflect it perfectly; instead it just shows how much a director like Truffaut pulled from personal experience for his films.  Perhaps this helps to explain the intimate and very honest nature of the late director's work.

This is one of the staples of art house cinema and one of Truffaut's finest outings.  I highly recommend checking the film out and getting the Criterion release, because the supplements are phenomenal.

100 Posts, 100 Movies

So this is my 100th post and I figured no better way to celebrate than compiling my list of Top 100 films.  I am sure it will change in the years to come, but here it is at is stands.

100. American Psycho
99. Paths of Glory
98. Freaks
97. Black Narcissus
96. The Adventures of Baron Munchausen
95. Children of Paradise
94. Forbidden Games
93. Network
92. Singin' In The Rain
91. Psycho
90. Eraserhead
89. Ugetsu
88. Repo Man
87. M
86. Howl's Moving Castle
85. Boogie Nights
84. Tiny Furniture
83. Patriotism
82. Kiss Me Deadly
81. The Passion of Joan of Arc
80. Ivan's Childhood
79. Carnival of Souls
78. Nashville
77. The Maltese Falcons
76. A River Runs Through It
75. Blue Velvet
74. The Music Room
73. Salo, Or The 120 Days of Sodom
72. Persona
71. Wings of Desire
70. Raging Bull
69. Mystery Train
68. Touch of Evil
67. Withnail and I
66. Easy Rider
65. A Clockwork Orange
64. The Good, The Bad and the Ugly
63. The Wrestler
62. The Future
61. Belle De Jour
60. Clean, Shaven
59. The Squid and The Whale
58. WALL-E
57. Hustle and Flow
56. (500) Days of Summer
55. Spellbound
54. In Bruges
53. Dogville
52. Gummo
51. Viridiana
50. The Naked City
49. The Shining
48. North By Northwest
47. The Milky Way
46. La Haine
45. 28 Days Later...
44. The Long Goodbye
43. Oldboy
42. The Harder They Come
41. Pulp Fiction
40. Tokyo Story
39. Taxi Driver
38. Charade
37. Monty Python's Life of Brian
36. The Tree of Life
35. Gojira
34. House
33. Little Miss Sunshine
32. Last Year at Marienbad
31. Metropolis
30. Dog Star Man
29. Breathless
28. Dr. Strangelove, Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb
27. Seven Samurai
26. Cinema Paradiso
25. There Will Be Blood
24. Annie Hall
23. La Jetee
22. Un Chien Andalou
21. Bottle Rocket
20. Alphaville
19. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
18. Le Samourai
17. Chungking Express
16. Hoop Dreams
15. Akira
14. The Bad Sleep Well
13. The Graduate
12. The Last Temptation of Christ
11. Citizen Kane
10. The Saddest Music in the World
9. Hard Boiled
8. The Night of the Hunter
7. Casablanca
6. 2001: A Space Odyssey
5. The Seventh Seal
4. Kicking and Screaming
3. Blade Runner
2. Cool Hand Luke
1. Do The Right Thing

So there you have it...I will add pictures and years sometime in the future.

Magicians Do Not Exist: The Illusionist (2010)

I stumbled upon The Triplets of Belleville by accident upon purchasing a copy at one of the many rental stores that has went out of business in the past few years.  Not knowing what to expect, I was taken back by the surreal beauty and existential ennui that engulfed Sylvain Chomet's cinematic world.  So when I heard that he was adapting a Jacques Tati play into an animated film, I was elated.  I expected a brilliant piece of animation that would have me gasping with delight at its grandiose composition and zany subtleties.  The Illusionist gave me those expectations full force, however, what I was not expecting was an achingly tragic movie.  I assumed without reading any synopsis that The Illusionist would be completely comic and slapstick and from the beginning this proved true, yet by the films closing the viewer is left in such a state of existential despair that would have the most stalwart of people questioning their purpose in life.  The Illusionist is a masterpiece of animation that captures an idea and identity magnificently, and Chomet stands beside Miyazaki as one of the few animators whose work truly transcends the world of children's movies into a much more mature and darkly tinted place.

The Illusionist opens with black and white imagery of a magician executing tricks masterfully implying a man whose days of popularity are antiquated, this notion is quickly affirmed by cutting to present day imagery in color displaying the magician performing to a much smaller crowd and having little success with his act.  His inability to attract audiences and perform efficiently leads to his dismissal from the theater and his subsequent traveling to perform at various venues throughout Europe.  Performing in the face of an ever changing audience, which is exemplified by a rock group whose lead singer does nothing more than grunt into a microphone and roll around on the ground, the magician seeks an audience at a party.  Despite having very few people pay attention to his tricks, the magician is able to impress a drunken Scotsman who invites him to perform at a pub in his hometown.  The town the magician visits is very rural and is celebrating the introduction of electricity on the same night as the magician's performance.  Given their rather mundane lives, the townsfolk become captivated with the magicians performance, particularly a bar girl named Alice, who sees the magician as a procurer of valuable items.  Infatuated with the magician, Alice sneaks onto the ferry with the magician who takes her under his wing out of what appears to be guilt.  Viewers are now introduced to the rather sad life of the magician who lives in a small one-bedroom apartment whose other tenants are also performers.  Alice, assuming that the magician can create items out of nothing, hints at desiring various clothing pieces, to which the magician abides out of fear of failing the girl's imagination.  Eventually Alice's demands become larger than the magicians ability to produce and he must sell himself to corporate exploitation in order to gain money.  Despite continuing to provide her with gifts, Alice decides to pursue a romance with a young man across the street.  Discovering their relationship, the magician leaves in despair and simply offers Alice a note that states, "magicians do not exist."  The magician, Alice, and even the viewers have come to realize that the small magic of the world to which they hold dear is simply an illusion and that once this is discovered they can do little but live a jaded life.

The Illusionist did a very interesting thing to me.  It caused me to question what constitutes comedy.  Prior to The Illusionist I found it quite simple to divide comedies into either slapstick low key comedy and philosophical high art dark comedy.  The Illusionist, however, is both of these comedy styles from beginning to end, never failing to cause the viewer to laugh and suffer simultaneously.  At first, I wanted to place the blame for this comedic gesture on French sensibility, but I found The Illusionist to exist as something far different from even Godard's most politically fueled comedy.  It seems as though Chomet, and to the same extent Tati, wanted viewers to laugh at the tragedy of human nature.  The film posits that reality sucks really really bad, but if you cannot laugh at it then living in the tragedy becomes unbearable.  This unbearable nature is shown through the clown character who attempts to commit suicide only to be stopped when Alice offers him a bowl of soup.  The clown, as the film implies, had lost his ability to laugh and it was in that moment that he almost lost his ability to live.  In fact, it is only the Scotsman whose character remains happy at the films closing, yet even his jovial nature is a direct result of alcohol.  I guess this is all really my personal ranting, but the film works for contemporary society, because economically speaking the world is terrible and Chomet is reminding us that laughing is the only way to deal with it, because if we cannot do that the crisis becomes unbearable.

I found The Illusionist to be far superior to Triplets of Belleville and I cannot recommend it enough.  I was fortunate enough to see it projected on film, but I am sure the blu-ray will garner a similar experience.

They Said, We'll Come Back For You Paw-Paw: The Future (2011)

There are only two names in American Cinema that reflect truly unique and standalone filmmaking that reflects a director pouring their inner most insecurity into their work.  The first is Harmony Korine with his abrasive imagery and bizarrely accurate portrayals of the effects of those disillusioned by the American dream.  The second is the director/author/musician/performance artist Miranda July whose rapidly growing cult following is becoming more evident with each film and novel she releases.  Her most recent directorial offering The Future combines all the indie fueled art-house elements of her first work You, Me, And Everyone We Know (2005) along with a much heavier dose of what I can only describe as magical nihilism.  For those familiar with Miranda July it is easy to expect a sad movie that leaves the characters at the most debased, showing little advancement for themselves...and humanity in general.  At times, Miranda July's scathing criticism of our internet-laden society is hard to watch.  Yet, as is always the case with July's work, some heartbeat ticks deep below the film making the experience transcendental causing the viewer to realize that what they have watched is much grander than a social critique.  The Future is a self-reflective and fully realized poem about the tragedies of aging in a society where individuality is manufactured and intimate relationships are as much about cohabitation as they are about love.  However, the nihilist that is Miranda July reminds us that no amount of change will allow us to escape from this trap and that sometimes death is a far more rewarding alternative.

The Future is a non-linear narrative of sorts and borders on being a time travel film.  It begins with the introduction of a talking cat named Paw-Paw, voiced by the films director, who longingly awaits the return of her soon to be owners, a thirty something couple named Sophie (Miranda July) and Jason (Hamish Linklater).  The couple who was intent on adopting the cat discovers that they must wait an additional thirty days before they can take the cat, because it has suffered a rather serious fracture.  Upon returning to their apartment, the couple decides that their lives are terribly uninspired for pushing forty and vow to make serious life changes before adding Paw-Paw into their lives.  For Jason this means taking up environmental activism and meeting up with Joe (Joe Putterlik) an old man who sells severely used hair dryers in the penny savers and writes raunchy poetry for his wife.  Incidentally, the man who inspired July's entire narrative for the film plays Joe.  Sophie, on the other hand, finds herself attempting to reinvigorate a flailing dance career by performing "30 Dances for 30 Days" following the inspiration of other Youtube sensations.  Sophie also finds herself entering into a sexual relationship with a divorced man named Marshall (David Warshofsky), who, while obviously only concerned with sexual conquest, provides Sophie with attention that she finds lacking in her relationship with Jason.  Both Sophie and Jason continue to "find themselves" as a narrative from Paw-Paw reminds viewers that he too is awaiting a major change in his life.  Happiness, tragically is not the end result for the couple, as Jason discovers Sophie's infidelities and decides to end his relationship with her, while Sophie, similarly realizes that her own eccentricities and attachments to unusual things are bizarre to Marshall, yet endearing to Jason.  Sadly, the couples own turmoils cause them to forget abut Paw-Paw who was euthanized due to the couples failure to pick him up in time.  As the couple notes, they both went back for the cat, yet, as is often the case in life, it was simply too late.  The result leaves the viewers watching the couple return to their previous state of co-habitation as Jason literally turns the next page in their rather bleak life, implying that the future is indeed very unexciting.

As is the case with Miranda July, criticism is tricky.  Her films live in a world that dances wildly between purely artistic outpouring and finely crafted social critique.  However, the commentary in the film is rather apparent, given the film's title and subsequent narrative.  July's work is preoccupied with living in the future and assuming stupidly that positive change will simply happen to those who wait.  This is apparent in both Sophie and Jason's career choices.  Sophie, an aspiring dancer, works as a children's dance instructor and shows no pride in her work and actually realizes in a rather hilarious scene that if she were to stay at the dance academy she would inevitably teach the children of the children she currently instructs.  Jason's job is no more satisfying, given that he works as an at home tech-support agent.  He mocks his job and is completely blocked off from the natural word, yet when he takes up his job as an environmental activist, he realizes that the rest of the world is equally indifferent and chooses to ignore nature freely.  Even Paw-Paw waits illogically, he idealizes his future life with Jason and Sophie, only to realize that no matter what happens in the world only two things are for certain, darkness and light...a rather existential realization for a talking cat.  Finally, in one of the films most brilliant scenes Marshall's daughter Gabriella (Isabella Acres) attempts to bury herself neck deep in the ground to grow like a tree, only to realize in the dark and cold night that she is inextricably stuck in the present and no amount of change can stop the ebb and flow of these things, except of course the work of a talking moon and the tai chi moves of Jason, but even those are futile.

I have seen The Future and it was good. The film is still making its way through some indie theaters, and is well worth checking out if you get the chance.  I am certain it will make my top films of 2011 and will likely only be succeeded by Terrence Malick's Tree of Life.

There's A Thousand Sides To Everything: Zabriskie Point (1970)

I often think that I am the only person on earth who does not appreciate Michelangelo Antonioni's L'Avventura.  To me it reeks of bourgeois pretension and lacks any real underlying value aside from a couple of aging men and women coming to existential realizations within themselves.  I was dreading the possibility of having the same experience with Zabriskie Point, particularly in the films opening scenes, which consist of nothing but debates amongst angst ridden college kids.  However, as the film picked up and began to gain some pacing I found myself infatuated within its eccentricities and stunning visual pondering (something that I can credit to L'Avventura).  I thoroughly enjoyed Zabriskie Point, which is funny given that it is one of Antonioni's less respected films.  Perhaps I just do not get Antonioni, but to me this is a far superior film to L'Avventura in its believability and subsequent accessibility.  It could of course have everything to do with Pink Floyd helping create the soundtrack, because after all they are one of my favorite bands.

The narrative of Zabriskie Point is incredibly disjointed involving a vague story about a group of college students revolting against "the man."  This is problematic, because the only image of "the man" we are given is that of a corporate organization whose aim is to sell homes in an idealize suburb that is so fabricated that the commercials use mannequins in place of humans.  It is obvious that these kids are revolting against capitalism, the irony, however, is that these kids are inextricably stuck inside the capitalist beast, an image that Antonioni reinforces by placing characters in the corners of frames that consist of large advertisements and corporate imagery.  This seems to be the case for every character until Mark (Mark Frechette) appears.  Mark is a spitting image of Peter Fonda's character in Easy Rider and matches him in his indifference and desire to rebel at any cost.  His rebellious nature is so strong, in fact, that he commits murder in response to what he believes to be an unjust murder at the hands of local law enforcement.  Realizing he has committed a crime, Mark flees, by plane, to the desert.  While flying he views a women fixing her car on a long desert road.  After a aerial game of cat and mouse, Mark lands and meets the girl named Daria (Daria Halprin), a woman who works for the corporate group shown earlier and is on her way to meet them at their desert abode.  Deciding that Mark is a far more interesting character the duo decide to traipse through the desert that includes intense political debate and what can be read as an LSD-induced orgiastic sexual encounter.  The result is that the couple is now reunited with the earth, Mark returns to the city with the plane he has stolen and Daria continues on to her job.  The only difference now is that Daria realizes her place in this capitalist machine and decides to sabotage the cogs in the only way she sees fit, explosive obliteration.  Thus, the film ends with images of consumer goods being literally blown to smithereens, implying that a destruction of capitalism is possible, and a very beautiful thing indeed.

I incorporated my bit of analysis into the plot, because I have a different issue to bring up as it relates to this film.  I noted that this film, to me, is far more enjoyable than L'Avventura.  This led me to reconsider the notion about a director having an undeniable masterpiece.  Many people point to L'Avventura as Antonioni's masterpiece.  While I am at no point to say that Zabriskie Point may be his best work, it does have me reconsidering the validity of a masterpiece.  For example, Kurosawa's Seven Samurai is often cited as his best film, but I am of the opinion that is simply his most widely viewed and recognized, to me The Bad Sleep Well or Kagemusha are far more realized films than his early work.  This action also occurs with directors like Orson Welles whose most widely acclaimed work is Citizen Kane.  While Citizen Kane is certainly a crowning cinematic achievement, it often cast a shadow over his other fantastic works, most notably his late film Touch of Evil.  I am in no way trying to dismiss these directors other films, but I find it disconcerting that many people will cite one film as a directors best work without truly considering their entire body of work in the process.  I guess I am being a bit idealistic, but I am at a point in my film viewing life that I can say what I am about to say.  A person should not be able to definitively claim a director's best work until they have seen each of their films, it just seems illogical.  Sure, you can have a favorite, but that choice should not become the standing decision for the entirety of film criticism, and I believe this may be the case with a director like Antonioni.  Be what it may, Zabriskie Point is a better movie than L'Avventura, and I plan on viewing the rest of Antonioni's work before claiming it to be his best film.

Ignoring that rather long tangent into essentializing a director's films, I do strongly recommend getting this film, if only for its intensely captivating cinematography.  Sadly their is only a DVD copy available, but we can always hope that Criterion picks it up in the near future.

I Am Here To Save Your God Damn Life: The Beaver (2011)

Let me get it out of the way.  I did not see this one coming.  The Beaver was a great movie.  I foolishly mocked the directorial debut of Jodie Foster as a ridiculous concoction of black comedy and anti-semitic acting power with a hand puppet attached somewhere.  I mean I could not have begun to imagine the bizarre beauty of this film, let alone the superb acting that occurred in this film, most surprisingly by the film’s star Mel Gibson.  I am here to tell you that I have seen the light, and damn was it glorious.  The Beaver is not only a decent movie, but it is superior to many of its contemporaries, specifically in the genre of dark comedy.  To quote a friend who watched the film with me, I am scared by how much I enjoyed this film.  Perhaps it is a direct result of my very low expectations coming into the film that resulted in its surprising enjoyability or its relative honest despite being absurdist in nature, but The Beaver is a must watch film and not in the same sense that Plan 9 From Outer Space is a must watch film.  The Beaver is not so bad that it is good; I would argue that it is so good that it might be bad.  I know that statement does not make sense, but you will not understand until you have experienced this stand-alone piece of cinema.

If you are stumbling upon this blog while searching reviews for this particular movie then you more than likely no the movies ridiculous plot.  However, for the few of you who have missed this movie in discussions I will explain.  Walter Black (Mel Gibson) is a severely depressed man who has inherited his father’s toy company, yet cannot manage to find a reason to enjoy life.  His indifference has led his oldest son Porter (Anton Yelchin) to despise every shared quality he has with his father and to his wife Meredith (Jodie Foster) demanding his departure from their literally decaying household.  Realizing he has lost everything, Walter stops off at a liquor store and purchases an insane amount of alcohol.  While returning to his vehicle Walter discovers a beaver hand puppet in a dumpster and decides to bring it along with him to his newly inhabited hotel room.  Walter, after becoming severely intoxicated, attempts to hang himself with no luck and then attempts to jump off the balcony of his hotel only to fall back into the room and have a television land on him.  After blacking out for some time, Walter awakes to a rough Australian voice.  However, this voice does not come from a human being, but instead from the beaver puppet which is attached to Walter’s hand.  The beaver explains to Walter that it is here to help him get his life back together and remove himself from his severe depression.  Agreeing to this change Walter reintroduces himself to his family and job with the beaver attached to him and speaking for him, explaining to his wife and others that it is part of a therapy suggested by his psychiatrist.  The puppet works almost instantly, excluding his son Porter, allowing him to rekindle his romance with his wife and take the flailing company into new and productive directions.  The joy ride does not last forever, however, and indeed becomes dark as those around Walter realize that his reliance on the beaver has not ended his depression, but instead serves as a veil to ignore it.  There you have it.  That is the plot for The Beaver.  I know it seems ridiculous, but somehow it manages to work and I am very glad to have taken the time to discover the film, which is inevitably doomed for obscurity.

I could do some sort of analysis concerning the vague discussions of religious salvation or its metaphors on the decaying nuclear family.  These are important themes in the film, but I would be remised not to mention how well the film deals with mental illness, both in regards to insanity and depression.  The character of Walter is obvious mentally instable in his possession of split personalities, one being the mute Walter and the other being the loud, foul mouthed beaver that is excellent with people.  As should be understood, people react with some degree of uncertainty to Walter illness often rolling their eyes and whispering uncertainties behind his back.  This seems to be the case for Walter’s illness for most of the film.  However, in a moment of self-reflection, Walter creates a toy that proves to be a big hit, causing people to exploit him for his creativity.  He is shown on various talk shows with the beaver, often being mocked indirectly while simultaneously being praised for his brilliant creation.  It makes me think of a musician like Daniel Johnston who has garnered large amounts of critical acclaim for his dark and brilliant lyricism.  Musical snobs often quote him as a masterful musician, yet many of those same critics shy away from befriending him due to his unconventional nature.  I felt the same thing being done to Walter throughout the film, both by the other characters and by myself as a viewer.  I though Walter was an insanely good character, yet overlooked his legitimate mental illness.  If I were to meet a similar person on the street today I would shy away from him immediately.  A film like The Beaver, despite its absurdity makes us acknowledge that mental illness occurs in various forms and that we must be careful to criticize it whether it is a person who suffers severe depression or more humorously talks through a puppet.  Often the latter is the one in need of more help, despite outwards signs saying otherwise. 

I am going to avoid recommending the purchase of this film, given that I am uncertain about its rewatchability.  Fortunately for you, Amazon.com has a digital rental version. Overall, I enjoyed The Beaver and will likely place it on my Top Ten Films of 2011.  A statement I never would have imagined myself saying months ago upon first hearing about the film.

Top Ten Thursdays: Horror Films

With Halloween fast approaching it seems like a decent enough time to devote a top ten list to horror films.  Sadly, I am rather lacking in cinematic knowledge of horror so my list may seem a bit bizarre.  Despite this I am offering up a humble list and welcoming all varieties of suggestions for film to watch in the expansive genre.  I should also note that I have withheld some of the obvious classics, not because they are undeserving, but because to me they border more on the genre of psychological thriller.  So do not be upset that this list lacks any Hitchcock.

10.) A Bucket of Blood (1959)

One part schlock horror and one part beatnik criticism, A Bucket of Blood is bizarrely suspenseful for being just under an hour long.

9.) Paranormal Activity (2007) 

Paranormal Activity picks up where The Blair Witch Project left off with found footage horror films.  I have a longer review that explains my opinions on this film.

8.) Dawn of the Dead (1978)

George Romero is the father of the zombie film, and his 1978 critique on capitalist consumption is his finest offering.

7.) Eraserhead (1977)

The mind of David Lynch is a horror film all its own, but his early study on the loss associated with abortion is grotesquely disturbing.

6.) Videodrome (1983)

Videodrome is perhaps the most philosophical horror film ever made, and my review on Cronenberg's work helps explain why.

5.) House on Haunted Hill (1999)

This remake is not particularly brilliant, but I remember loosing sleep over it when I watched it over ten years ago.  Perhaps I need to revisit the film, but damn if it did not scare the crap out of me the first time around.

4.) Carnival of Souls (1962)

Easily the most poetic film on my list, Carnival of Souls is surrealist horror that is disturbing in its minimalist nature and experimental cinematography.

3.) 28 Days Later...(2002)

This is my favorite zombie film bar none and it is a lesson in editing in the horror genre.

2.) The Shining (1980)

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."












1.) Session 9 (2001)

I once stated that this is the only horror film that matters.  I still believe this to be true, because it manages to be eeire and disturbing without relying on very much on screen violence.

Honorable Mention

Rosemary's Baby (1968)

Saw (2004)

The House of the Devil (2009)

Zombieland (2009)