I'll get on this top 10 bandwagon! Keep in mind that this list is ever-changing since it's really really difficult for me to rank my top 10 films. Treat the list more as a 'My Ten Favourite Films' list.
Honourable mentions include Ratcatcher, 3 Idiots, The Holy Mountain, Amelie, Lost in Translation, Cairo Station, Eternal Sunshine, The Thin Red Line, Singin' In The Rain, The Boat That Rocked, The Life Aquatic and Boyhood.
10. Underground (1995)
Underground is a soviet surrealist film that focuses on the relationship between two brothers and their exploits over the course of Serbian history. It's an astonishing, potent mixture of Gilliam, Gondry and Kaufman, defying filmic conventions by seamlessly transitioning into genres. And each genre is effective - it switches from war film to thriller to satire to tragic romance to father-son drama and then back to a war film, while managing to be equally emotionally resonant at each stage. There's a particular scene in the third act that is simply magical, one of the most powerful moments I've seen in a film. I was completely enraptured by this and I suggest you watch it immediately!
9. The Prestige (2006)
Only a few years ago this used to be my number 1 film. While it's fallen a bit in the pecking order, it's still an incredible film. This is Nolan's magnum opus, a dazzling, twisty tale of revenge and rivalry between two extraordinarily complex magicians. The performances are fantastic, but the storytelling is really where the film shines, defying expectations and ingeniously functioning as a magic trick itself. It's tense, well-shot, and there's some amazing reveals in its final act. On a rewatch the film is even greater - for reasons I won't spoil. It's more heartfelt and understanding of its characters than all of Nolan's other films - which isn't to say that that's a thing Nolan struggles at, but rather, it's a thing that he does so well in
The Prestige. Every single scene is packed with so much detail and foreshadowing that every single rewatch is astonishing.
8. Dumbo (1941)
1941 may have given us Citizen Kane but it also gave us the Citizen Kane of animated films, a brief but powerful masterpiece that is as daring a Disney film as any. Its Pink Elephants on Parade scene is ingrained in my memory, producing woozy, nightmarish imagery of technicolour elephants, but on the other side of the spectrum, its sentimental lullaby is incredibly moving, a horrifically dark scenario that no Disney product would dare to reproduce nowadays. I'm in love with this film - it's fascinating and strange and heartwarming and shocking and poignant. It's the best animated film of all time.
7. Mishima: A Life In Four Chapters (1985)
Directed by Paul Schrader, and focusing on Japanese author and political figure Yukio Mishima, this film is the best kind of biopic: one that evokes and embodies its figure rather than simply retelling the character's lives.
Mishima glorifies seppuku because so did he. Yukio Mishima was invested in the concept of the 'harmony of pen and sword', the perfect expression of art via death. This is relayed to us through four of his own stories, each shot gloriously with bold colours and incredible set design. I mean, just look at
this image. Accompanied by Philip Glass' beautiful, extravagant score, each moment in the film is glorious. It's operatic but personal, euphoric yet deeply melancholy. It's where my profile picture is from.
6. Airplane! (1980)
The funniest comedy of all time, and, subsequently, the greatest. Packed with iconic lines, hilarious slapstick, running gags, and a scout girl catfight. I've run out of things to say about this film so here's some quotes:
Ted: “It’s an entirely different kind of flying, altogether.”
Dr. Rumack and Randy: “It’s an entirely different kind of flying.”
Dr. Rumack: “This woman has to be gotten to a hospital.”
Elaine: “A hospital? What is it?”
Dr. Rumack: “It’s a big building with patients but that’s not important right now.”
Host of Counterpoint: “They bought their tickets, they knew what they were getting into, I say… let ’em crash!”
5. Mulholland Drive (2001)
David Lynch's fever dreams to end all fever dreams, a sprawling LA odyssey that's tricky to try to unpack and fascinating to watch unravel. Firstly,
Mulholland Drive looks beautiful, the rich hues of its colour palette and twisting first-person camera movements suitably nightmarish in style and tone. The mood this film creates is exquisite, a potent mixture of the unnerving and the transcendent. Secondly,
Mulholland Drive sounds incredible, its score vibrant and heady, the 'Silencio' scene a stand-out. Thirdly, the acting is astonishing, and in turn, the relationship between Naomi Watts and Laura Harring is perhaps the most developed, insightful and downright special relationship on screen. It's an overwhelming flurry of emotions all at once - watching
Mulholland Drive is a rewarding, mesmerising experience.
4. Man With A Movie Camera (1929)
This film changed cinema completely. It's as much an astonishing piece of filmmaking as it is an astonishing piece
on filmmaking. Detailing a day in the life of various Soviet cities. It has no plot, it has no characters, it has no dialogue. It's a pure visual feast, a cinephile's wet dream. Edited furiously with an array of unbelievable cuts and techniques,
Man With A Movie Camera would look modern even if it were released today - the technical feats on display are truly unbelievable. This is the film that taught directors of how little restraint there is when it comes to filmmaking. It moves at breackneck pace, chopping between slow-motion high-jumpers to stop-motion cameras to double exposure trams to chess played in reverse. There is never a dull moment. I think this may be the only film I've ever cried at simply just for being so damn
good.
3. Citizen Kane (1941)
An obvious choice, but
Citizen Kane really does deserve all the plaudits it gets. Another film that's vital to cinema, this is a film that not only manages to be technically astounding and soooo ahead of its time, but be richly emotional and invested in its characters, to superb effect. Kane is one of the most complex and tragic characters in cinematic history, and his plight is at once transfixing and heartbreaking, a self-destructive fall from fame that culminates in a wonderful final shot. Its filmmaking at its finest.
2. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)
The Marmite Sci-Fi: you either love it or you hate it. This is Kubrick's best work, visually the greatest film in existence (that I've seen), and will leave your mouth agape throughout its hefty runtime. Every time I watch it, t makes me realise why I like film all over again. Cerebral filmmaking that's less cold than people give it credit for, thanks to HAL's characterisation. Space is cool, humanity is cool, this is cool. This isn't even mentioning how impressive and foreboding the orchestral score is.
1. Synecdoche, New York (2008)
This film is massive. It's a blockbuster of epic proportions. It's Roger Ebert's favourite film this century, and by far the film that has provoked the biggest reaction out of me. It's a masterpiece on life, death, legacy and depression, a sprawling work of art that spans half a lifetime. As with a lot of my favourite films on this year, it's gloriously surreal, a Kaufman speciality that trades cohesion for pure cinematic ecstasy. That's not to say this film isn't logical - it's the most logical film there can be, the most utterly truthful explanation of the tortured mind of humanity itself. My signature is taken from this film's ending monologue, and its significance, accompanied by the stunning imagery on screen and the mournful, grandiose score, easily manages to sweep me off my feet every time. I love, love, love this film. Love it.
