Dog Day Afternoon (Lumet, 1975)

What Lumet has done so well here, and the thing that most films of this nature fail to accomplish or even attempt, is to emphasize the lows of a tense situation in order to amplify the high notes when they arrive. He does well to spend good portions of stock on the true statis of the situation, allowing moments of compassion and tedium to saturate a story that, in another’s hands, may have felt more akin to an explosive heist romp. Instead, Lumet and his ensemble deliver a delightfully paced thriller that is generous enough to let true characterization and story drive what could have been a genre piece into something much more interesting.

Beau Travail (Denis, 1999)

As a medium, film is full of rarely utilized potential. In this instance, I am talking about the possibility of cinema to overcome mere narration and wisp dreamily into the realm of meditation. Although it has been done, successfully, several times, there is a surprising dearth of these films being produced. Whether this results from a fear of underemphasis in terms of narration – the desire to tell a story being innate to humans – or a lack of imagination, I am not the one to say. Thankfully, Denis’ Beau Travail is a film that aims squarely for the right portion of your brain. Its success, however, is debatable.

Daisies (Chytilová, 1966)

From the opening credits as gears churn amidst hazed out clips of bombings to one of the more joyous finales I can recount, Daisies prances about in a free from manner directly in tune with demeanor of the two young girls it so generously depicts. In much the same way that the two Maries consistently act immature in mature settings, Chytilová joyously frolics between different color schematics and mosaic editing with relentless energy, capturing a twisted and mildly psychedelic version of a teen girl’s fantasy sleepover; one in which everything is ever so slightly naughty.

Standard Operating Procedure (Morris, 2008)

Errol Morris has a fairly unique ability to elicit defensively candid interviews from oft maligned subjects. He did so in The Fog of War and here, again, he has successfully drawn deceptively forward responses from unlikely candidates. While the story – and more importantly the images – of Iraq’s Abu Ghraib prison have become mental calling cards of our nations collective conscious in regards to the Iraq war, Morris proofs his material, making it seem as important and fresh as the days in which the horrific images first leaked.

Metropolitan (Stillman, 1990)

About halfway through Metropolitan, I wasn’t feeling too good about things. The mockery was blatant, jokes only half-inspired and performances completely overblown. Dialog replete with empty intellectualizing about class status in America (stultified of course) can only take a picture so far. Around the 45 minute mark, however, I started to realize that there was kind of a lot going on here.

Lifeboat (Hitchcock, 1944)

A truly bizarre film on many accounts. Antediluvian xenophobia mixed with just a dash of self-national mockery, Lifeboat rows along in both confusing and intriguing manners. Why is no one on this boat, aside from the German, capable of helming it? On the opposite side of the coin why, at times, does it feel like Hitchcock has made a propaganda film? Couple that with some out of date racial stereotypes, fine acting, and a cinematic experiment akin to Rope and you find yourself with a highly watchable although truly beguiling muddling of skills from the considerable talents of Alfred Hitchcock and John Steinbeck.

I Vitelloni (Fellini, 1953)

I have been meaning to get around to I Vitelloni since high school and, today, I finally did. The film is quite the quintessential “buddy” film, although it is a far cry from the drunken farce comedies we have come to expect from the genre today. This is not about a group of male friends going to Vegas, drinking a lot and coming to trite revelations in the epilogue. Fellini’s vision is an honest look at the mires of masculinity, malaise of stagnant living and realities of shirking responsibility.

City Girl (Murnau, 1930)

This late era Murnau film does not suffer greatly because of the studio constraints Murnau was under. Sure, the story has a lot less dramatic umbrage than Murnau’s previous efforts, but any fan of the big F.W. will find tons to love here. This Sunrise-lite effort is another beacon in the German directors astonishing métier. The fact that Murnau was on something of a leash here almost makes you appreciate the man that much more. His talent with images, pace and mood is so prodigious that one is likely to forget that they are watching a rather mundane Hollywood love story and bask in the images of one of the greatest directors who ever lived.

A Nos Amours (Pialat, 1983)

Judging the level of veracity in a film is a hard thing to accomplish, especially when the subject matter takes the form of human drama and relationships. Either you can identify personally with a character (or even mood), or you must draw upon, how should I put this, your awareness of others. A Nos Amours fits into the latter category for me. I have personally known girls who are, like Suzanne, entirely adrift in a sea of relationships. Their ship goes this way or that, to one person or another, although it never drops anchor or finds port for more than a short amount of time.

Valerie and Her Week of Wonders (Jires, 1970)

Valerie and Her Week of Wonders is certainly something to behold. Beguiling, replete with cinematic gambol and hardly concerned with explaining itself, the film frolics amidst the macabre and dreamy with unrelenting ease. Symbols cascade from the screen as bees, flowers and just about everything else you can think of becomes a stand in for the sexual concerns of Jires’ vision. Fear of senescence, incest and virginity are all fair game here and, if the grass is green, play ball, right? Jires does so with brio. There is something appealing and, indeed, intoxicating about this kind of film, although I have to admit that it is a bit harnessed by a lack of cohesion. The fluidity of the confusion is both Valerie’s strength and weakness. We are forced to watch from a great distance.