I devour the BFI Best Films of All Time list whenever they deem it necessary to revise and (invariably) disagree with most of the findings, but I still get a kick out of browsing. Same with Rolling Stone's inane Best 100 Albums (how does Sgt. Pepper drop from #1 to #24 in the latest incarnation?); the anger I feel subsides when I see they've put a couple of Aerosmith albums on the list! We all disagree with that number one but we keep right on scrolling through each choice.
This project, which has been percolating for quite a while, originated from the constant back and forth "good natured bickering" between John Scoleri and myself. John invariably loves everything and I hate it all (for more of the discourse, I advise one and all to pick up a copy of bare•bones print magazine and read our debates about streaming and movie theaters to get a taste). I began to think it would be fun to compose a Favorite (as opposed to Best) 100 and compare our selections. Making it even more tantalizing, I managed to talk the third head of Ghidorah, Jack Seabrook, into participating. This could be interesting, since John's never seen a movie the two Georges (Romero and Lucas) didn't have a hand in, and Jack usually favors the flicks that have words at the bottom of the screen (dis-moi que j'ai tort, Jack!). I, on the other hand, can't wait to educate these two gentlemen as to what constitutes good cinema.
Every Thursday, we'll count down our picks two at a time. We're hoping this will generate discourse outside of our trio. Let us know just how crazy we are. This is going to be fun!—Peter
John Wayne's Tom Dunson is flat broke after putting everything he had into his cattle. Now, the only thing that might save him is a cattle drive from Texas to Missouri through treacherous terrain. The longer the drive drags on, the more estranged his adopted son, Matt (Clift) and the rest of the cowboys become from the single-minded Dunson. Eventually, "father" and "son" collide and Matt leaves the old man behind and takes control of the herd. Dunson swears he'll track the young buck down and put a bullet in him. Mutiny on the Bounty out west.
Well, it never quite gets to that point. In fact, the cop-out Hollywood climax is just about the only flaw in this classic western, the first to really exhibit Wayne's acting prowess (it's this film, supposedly, that convinced John Ford that Wayne was ready to play Ethan Edwards) and Montgomery Clift's film debut. Both actors are stunning. According to Peter Bogdanovich, director Hawks was concerned that Clift would go overboard with his method acting (for comparisons of what could have gone wrong, see Paul Newman in The Left Handed Gun) so he told the actor to concentrate on Wayne. Hawks makes several turns away from the norm, chief among them the fact that Matt and fellow gunslinger Cherry develop a friendship rather than settle for the obligatory showdown on the streets of Abilene.
As far as Wayne goes, Red River, to me, is his second greatest role, one I don't think any other actor could have pulled off so effectively. My maternal grandfather was a very important person in my life and his favorite actor was John Wayne so whenever we were at my grandparents' house and a John Wayne flick was on, I'd grab a seat. That's probably how I saw this one for the first time. Wayne could be divisive thanks to his personal views on politics and race but, as a movie star, he had few peers.—Peter
Remarks from the Gallery:
Jack: Red River is certainly a great movie. I haven't seen it in so long that I didn't think to include it on my list, but it sure could have been there. I don't agree with the Duke's politics but I love his movies. If I didn't watch movies where the star's politics didn't align with mine, how could I enjoy all those great Clint Eastwood flicks?
John: Also on my list of unseen John Waynes.
.jpg)
"I'll be all around in the dark—I'll be everywhere. Wherever you can look—wherever there's a fight so hungry people can eat, I'll be there."
Released from prison during the Great Depression, Tom Joad returns to his family in Oklahoma, only to find that they have been thrown off their land and must pack up the truck and move to California. The trip along Route 66 is harrowing and, when they arrive in the Golden State, it doesn't seem so golden—they are but a few of the desperate folks taken advantage of by the big farmers. Things only get tougher for Tom and the Joads.
I read John Steinbeck's novel, The Grapes of Wrath, in my late teens or early twenties and was immediately hooked. Over the course of the next few years, I read nearly everything Steinbeck ever wrote. But The Grapes of Wrath remains my favorite, and one of my favorite novels of all time.
I don't recall when I first saw the movie, but it's a classic, with gorgeous black and white cinematography by Gregg Toland and a terrific cast, led by Henry Fonda as Tom and Jane Darwell as Ma Joad, his mother. John Carradine plays Casy, a preacher who has lost his faith and who gets involved in organizing workers, only to meet a bad end. The rest of the cast is equally great, from John Qualen down to a young Darryl Hickman.
John Ford directs this powerful film, which shows on screen how bad things can get when the government fails to rein in the captains of industry. As I watched, I lamented the lack of serious, popular movies being released today; the only one I could think of in recent years to tackle social justice themes like this was One Battle After Another. I prefer the old films, which value storytelling and acting over curse words and graphic sex and violence.—Jack
Remarks from the Gallery:
Peter: I was forced to watch The Grapes of Wrath in 8th grade English and loved it. This one still packs a hell of a wallop. Henry Fonda seemingly could do no wrong.
John: Haven't seen Grapes of Wrath, haven't read Grapes of Wrath, so nothing more to add there. But I do take umbrage at the claim that contemporary films don't value storytelling and acting, and are only about sex and violence. I can only imagine such a claim coming from someone who avoids watching contemporary films, or somehow only manages to see bad ones. I personally would never discount a film with a good story and great acting just because it happens to contain sex and violence. And I also don't assume a film with sex and violence can't have a good story or great acting. I love a lot of old films, and would never allow the occasional bad one to besmirch my opinion of all the rest. I'll just leave my soapbox here in case I need it later.
"They're here."
Another classic from the amazing moviegoing year of 1982. A wonderful Jerry Goldsmith score, a fine cast (including the always entertaining, underrated James Karen), and some grand visual effects make this an extremely rewatchable film.
Remarks from the Gallery:
Peter: Yeah, this is a good one. It sure feels like Steve got behind the camera for a few of those shots. Lots of bright lights and people looking off at something incredible. Lots of kids doing kid things. Name me another Tobe Hooper flick that felt anywhere near this. But that's neither here nor there; Poltergeist is still a lot of fun. Maybe not Top 100 worthy but a good watch anyways.
Jack: I remember seeing this when it came out. It was fun. I probably watched it on VHS after that but I haven't seen it in ages.
"Bond... this may be too much for a blunt instrument to understand, but arrogance and self-awareness seldom go hand in hand."
I was one of those who questioned the casting of Daniel Craig. Guy just didn't have that look, y'know. Never mind that all the guys previously had the look and were making dogs. Well, there were a couple of decent Bond flicks post-Connery (On Her Majesty's Secret Service and Goldeneye and th-th-that's all, folks) but I couldn't tell you how many times I walked out of the theater after watching the latest one (and I kept going to see them! what was wrong with me?) thinking, "What the hell was the plot again?" and, "Wouldn't it be great if they'd find a writer who took this seriously?"
Anyway, like the lemming I was, I saw Casino Royale on opening weekend and loved it. Went back and saw it the following week. I loved Connery but I never believed he would kill a guy in cold blood. He got all the girls and always escaped the fancy gizmos the bad guys aimed at him but he was a good looking, well-mannered British spy. Craig is exactly how M describes him: deranged. Maybe psychotic. He sure looks like he's having a good time with his first kill in the men's room scene that opens Casino. He looks and acts like a dangerous killing machine.
In addition to Craig, there are a lot of other plusses: Mads Mikkelsen's Le Chiffre is a great villain, sinister but vulnerable. How about the fact that Le Chiffre doesn't even die by Bond's hands? There's no protracted chase up a snowy mountain or flight into a volcano. He's shot in the head by another bad guy! Vesper (Eva Green) is one of the best of the "Bond Girls" but adds so much more to the plot than eye candy. She dies in a really nasty way but her influence lives on; it could be argued that the Craig-starring films that follow evolve around Bond's obsession with Vesper. The card game scenes are riveting and unpredictable.
The best is saved for last. The new 007, standing over who will become his latest kill, dressed to the nines, uttering those famous words and eliciting goosebumps from all who hear them: "Bond, James Bond." Cue the theme.—Peter
Remarks from the Gallery:
Jack: I liked this movie a lot when it came out and I may have even watched it again on DVD. The Craig series of Bond films was odd in that one and three were great and the rest were awful. The last one was so bad that it soured me on the whole series. I still prefer Roger Moore.
John: My first Bond was For Your Eyes Only, and based on that, I would have been happy to call it my last. But a friend was a fan, so I got to experience Octopussy in the theater as well. And it didn't change my opinion. If Roger Moore had anything to offer, it was long gone by then, and it soured me on the franchise for years. I think my next Bond was Goldeneye, and I didn't even dip into the Connery films until the early 2000s, when I decided to give the entire series a watch. I stalled out in the Moores, I'm sure to no one's surprise. Well, maybe Jack's. So, when Casino Royale landed, I didn't have any issues with Craig in the role. And I thought he was great. The film was gritty and lacked the silly gadgets and gizmos (and his run did a good job with that until it reached its fourth installment, the low point in an otherwise spectacular series). I just caught CR again on the big screen on James Bond day, and loved it just as much as I did the first time. Eva Green, Mads Mikkelsen, Judy Dench, Jeffrey Wright, and Giancarlo Giannini are all fabulous in it. Seeing it has inspired me to revisit the Craig series one more time, even the dip in quality that Spectre brings, right through the epic conclusion of No Time To Die, which I assume my not carrying decades of Bond baggage allowed me to enjoy. While none of the Craigs made it into my Top 100, a couple, including this one, were certainly contenders.
"You've made me the happiest juvenile delinquent in Baltimore!"It’s not easy being a juvenile delinquent in Baltimore in 1954! Cry-Baby hangs out with the Drapes at Turkey Point but falls in love with Allison, a pretty girl who hangs out with the Squares at the R.S.V.P. Charm School. Allison is drawn to the handsome biker but her Square boyfriend and her prim and proper aunt stand in the way. Will these two star crossed lovers be able to find happiness together?
I had to include a John Waters film in my Top 100 and Cry-Baby is my favorite. It had me from the first scene, where all the teenagers are lined up in the school gym to get vaccinated. The cast is a riot—Johnny Depp was born to play Cry-Baby and Amy Locane is perfect as Allison. But it’s the rest of the cast members who really crack me up, from Traci Lords as one of the Drapes to Patty Hearst (yes, that Patty Hearst) as her mother!
What really makes the movie work are the musical numbers, where Waters contrasts the cool, rockabilly style of the Drapes with the corny, Doo Wop style of the Squares. It’s clear that Waters loves the time period and the look; it’s as if he sat down and made a list of everything he could think of that typified the mid-fifties and then found a way to get it all into the movie. It’s a love letter to mid-century Baltimore and a satire at the same time.
I saw this in a theater when it came out and it always stuck with me. I just watched it again and guffawed my way through it. One highlight is when Cry-Baby tells Allison about his late father, the Alphabet Bomber, who blew up places in alphabetical order—the airport, the barber shop, the car wash, the drug store… Oh, and the bass player in Cry-Baby’s band is reading an early issue of Tales to Astonish in one scene, despite the fact that that comic wouldn’t be published for another six or seven years! All is forgiven. We all know that only the mentally deficient read comic books and they lead to juvenile delinquency!—Jack
Remarks from the Gallery:
Peter: I don't think I've ever seen a John Waters flick. The sheer eighties-ishness of this would have screamed "Stay away!"
John: I seem to recall seeing A Dirty Shame, because I like Chris Isaak but I've otherwise pretty much avoided the work of John Waters, as it's not my cup of tea (and I think by now I've demonstrated a pretty wide range of tea-drinking). I'm still trying to wrap my head around a John Waters flick showing up on Jack's list!
Burnt Offerings (1976)
"God when it comes alive - tell them, Brother. Tell them what it's like in the summer."
Dan Curtis's crowning achievement and the source of the single most frightening image I have experienced in a film. Absent are the cheesy soap opera elements that often plagued Dark Shadows and low-budget limitations of several of his telefilms. Burnt Offerings features an amazing cast—arguably the best assembly of Curtis's career, delivering my favorite scary haunted house story. I read and enjoyed Robert Marasco's source novel (after having seen the film), but I honestly feel that William F. Nolan improved upon it, particularly the ending. Even composer Robert Cobert rises to the occasion, providing haunting melodies and one of the greatest music box themes to appear in a horror film.
Oliver Reed and Karen Black are great as the married couple hired to be caretakers (along with their son and an aunt, played wonderfully by Bette Davis) of a luxurious home (the Dunsmuir Mansion in Oakland, California, later famous for being Morningside Mortuary in the original Phantasm). Of course, the deal was too good to be true and we soon find out why, as the family begins to fall apart, while the house... well...
Much like Trilogy of Terror, with its indelible image of the Zuni Fetish doll, Burnt Offerings features a similar visual icon that stuck with almost every viewer who saw it, in the form of a chauffeur first introduced in a black and white flashback, played by the late, great, character actor Anthony James. I sang his praises when discussing the Unforgiven, but it was this role that not only seared his image, but also his name, into my memory forever. As an aside, I was so taken by his performance and his ability to send chills up my spine with just a simple smile that I decided, years later, to seek him out, with the intention of interviewing him for the original incarnation of bare•bones (as part of a never fully developed series on pivotal horror influences called "Giving Me The Creeps"). When I came home one day to hear a gentle voice on my answering machine saying, "Hello John... this is Anthony James," I nearly flipped out. I ended up speaking to him for about an hour, having a wonderful time explaining how much his work had impacted me and learning out about his second career as a fine artist. He sent me a signed copy of a book of his paintings, and he arranged for me to get a private pre-opening viewing of a gallery show of his artwork in San Francisco. Sadly, he didn't come to town for that, so we never met in person. Our closing up shop with bare•bones prevented me from finishing the piece, but I will always have fond memories of our brief interaction. And despite his kind and generous demeanor, I still get a little chill whenever I see that smiling chauffeur.—John
Peter: I thought fersure this would be higher on your list. I saw this three or four times at the Almaden Twin (wish I could remember its co-feature at the time) and it creeped me out every time. But then anything with Bette Davis generally creeps me out. The pool scene, in particular, is a highlight.
Jack: I mainly remember this for an old Bette Davis and something to do with a swimming pool. It's been awhile.
