JEFF’s TOP 30 FILMS
1. City Lights, (1931) by Charlie Chaplin
In 1928, as theaters across the country converted to synch-sound projection, Chaplin began producing a film that could defy the trend and demonstrate the virtue of his pre-talky cinematic artform. It took three years under his perfecting standards, and the result is nothing less than magnificent.
2. Grand Illusion, (1937) by Jean Renoir
Though class identity may trump nationality, mutual suffering trumps all. And yet whatever our illusions of war, ambition, and historical or cultural relevance, it’s the irrepressible shifts of time that will humble us in the end.
3. The Lady Eve, (1941) by Preston Sturges
A stunning number of comedy masterpieces came out of Hollywood in the early 1940s: Chaplin’s The Great Dictator (1940); Cukor’s The Philadelphia Story (1940); Hawk’s His Girl Friday (1940) and Ball of Fire (1941); the obscure and underappreciated WC Fields’s gem, Never Give a Sucker an Even Break (1941); Lubitsch’s To Be or Not To Be (1942); Wellman’s Roxie Hart (1942), which Kubrick listed along with WC Field's’s The Bank Dick (1940) as two of his top ten favorite films early in his career; Stevens’s The More the Merrier (1943); and an impressive number of other Sturges films in short succession—Sullivan’s Travels (1941), The Palm Beach Story (1942), The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek, and Hail the Conquering Hero (both 1944). But The Lady Eve tops them all for me with its beautiful construction, flawless performances, great chemistry, sharp dialogue, and hilarious pratfalls. Put simply, it’s the film I’ve seen more than any other.
4. Seven Men From Now, (1956) by Bud Boetticher
I’ve reluctantly passed on choosing one of the more obvious Western masterpieces, namely Stagecoach (1939), Rio Bravo (1959), or Once Upon a Time in the West (1968), to go with a lesser-known film, the first of a handful of tightly-written, low-budget indie collaborations between director Boetticher, screenwriter Burt Kennedy, and star Randolph Scott. In Scott’s portrayals, we get a clear alternative to the archetype of the American man of the West, distinguished by stoic poise rather than the more popular John Wayne gung-ho swagger. The film resolves with my favorite show-down in cinema as Scott faces off with Lee Marvin in a scene pared down to its essence, playing almost zenlike in its formal construction.
5. Street of Shame, (1956) by Kenji Mizoguchi
My favorite Mizoguchi film is his last, a masterclass of ensemble storytelling, on how to guide the eye through complex compositions using chiaroscuro, deep focus, simultaneous foreground-background action, and precise blocking.
6. Nights of Cabiria, (1957) by Federico Fellini
My all-time favorite performance: Giulietta Masina as Cabiria.
7. Vertigo, (1958) by Alfred Hitchcock
A multi-layered modern adaptation of the Orpheus myth that would otherwise seem totally preposterous if not framed within the context of James Stewart’s subjective infatuation with a dream girl and his subsequent desperate attempt to resurrect her from the dead.
8. Floating Weeds, (1959) by Yasujiro Ozu
The profound experience of an Ozu film tends to occur residually, almost as an aftertaste that lingers long after the lights go on. Very few films have that kind of lasting effect and Ozu’s got a dozen or more of them.
9. The 400 Blows, (1959) by François Truffaut
Still the greatest depiction of adolescence as a stiff-lipped rebellion against neglect at home, injustice at school, and the overall stricture of his youthful impulses.
10. Eyes Without a Face, (1960) by Georges Franju
My personal favorite horror film, with Tod Browning’s The Unknown, (1927) starring Lon Chaney and a young Joan Crawford, as a close runner-up.
11. La Jetée, (1962) by Chris Marker
There are those rare films that defy the normal modes of expression to profound and singular effect. La Jetée takes an incredibly spare approach, conveying a tightly-written meditation on time, memory, and loss, in the form of a science-fiction slide-show parable.
12. Winter Light, (1963) by Ingmar Bergman
I love Bergman’s chamber dramas, and this is my favorite, a cinematic pinnacle of complex thematic layering and precise choreography of performance to the framing.
13. Charulata, (1964) by Satyajit Ray
Satyajit Ray’s films remain particularly dear to me, particularly The Apu Trilogy (1955, ‘56, and ‘59), The Music Room (1958), and Days and Nights in the Forest (1970), but it was Charulata that won my heart forever, however, in the scene in which Soumitra Chatterjee sings, “Ami Chini Go Chini Tomare” to Madhabi Mukherjee.
14. Diamonds of the Night, (1964) by Jan Nemec
Unavailable in the West for decades except in bootleg form, Diamonds of the Night is a little-known 65-minute feature film from the Czech New Wave that desperately needed rediscovery and preservation. The Criterion Collection answered my prayers in 2018, beautifully restoring the film and making it available to stream on their online channel. Its premise is of two Jewish boys who wander through a dark wood, cold and hungry, after escaping from a train on its way to a concentration camp. As one of the nameless boys follows the other toward an uncertain fate, his memories, daydreams, and hunger-induced hallucinations gradually blend with his journey, progressing quietly toward a haunting, transcendental end.
15. Le Bonheur, (1965) by Agnes Varda
My favorite Agnes Varda film, this satire of a man’s unaffected happiness, subverts the idylls of impressionism to stunning and critical ends. Remarkably sly, Varda’s technique presents a man’s infatuation as a gauzy filter upon the world, in which the object of his attention is like a blooming flower in a lush garden. Perfect and sensual when first sighted, she becomes a mere accent in the decor of his domestic sphere, once he’s plucked and placed her there. It’s a conspicuously soft look on a disturbing subject, which makes it all the more effective and engaging as a work of art. The flirtation scene between Francois and Émilie at the bistro stands as one of my favorite sequences of cinematic choreogrpahy.
16. Au Hasard Balthazar, (1966) by Robert Bresson
Simply the greatest transcendental film ever made.
17. Chinatown, (1974) by Roman Polanski
An exemplar of the hard-boiled detective noir in the Chandler tradition, Jake Gittes’s convoluted investigation begins with a sense of indignity, widens into suspicion of political conspiracy, then narrows into a shocking personal revelation of family abuse, ultimately depicting a landscape so wholly corrupt that virtue can only reside in our hero’s underlying moral integrity and honorable intentions, even if his actions lead inevitably to tragedy.
18. Mirror, (1975) by Andrei Tarkovsky
Mother as muse. Film as mirror. Along with Terence Davies’s The Long Day Closes (1992), a prime example of a poetic memoir.
19. Barry Lyndon, (1975) by Stanley Kubrick
This is my pick for the greatest film of all time, reaching artistic heights in Its dramatic scope, tonal balance, composition, thematic interests, and overall achievement.
20. L’Argent, (1983) by Robert Bresson
With an extreme distillation of his style, Bresson divested the plot of its usual spiritual preoccupations, allowing grace to arise out of something even more inscrutable, as if in spite of its bleak outlook.
21. Once Upon a Time in America, (1984) by Sergio Leone
The epic gangster drama ruminates on the theme of betrayal as it manifests over time through ruthless ambition, envy, nostalgia, and the impulsive gratification of desire.
22. Full Metal Jacket, (1987) by Stanley Kubrick
The greatest depiction of soldiers at war is one that explores the dilemma of their role as killers without inadvertently glorifying their actions or sentimentalizing their purpose as a fight for some greater good.
23. Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, (1988) by Pedro Almodovar
If David Lynch draws from soap operas to imbue his noir films with a distinct dream-narrative aesthetic, then Almodovar draws from Spanish soap operas for his particular brand of vibrant melodramatic comedic thrillers. This is my favorite of his, amongst Tie Me up! Tie me Down! (1989), Talk to Her (2002), and The Skin I Live In (2011).
24. Total Recall, (1990) by Paul Verhoeven
This film holds up surprisingly well for me. It has everything I could want in a pure popcorn action flick with its mindblowing sci-fi premise, exciting plot developments, impressive practical world-building and fx, thrilling performances, badass action, and unbeatable Arnie one-liners.
25. A Summer’s Tale, (1996) by Éric Rohmer
Of the French New Wave filmmakers, I prefer films from two older, late-comers to the scene, Rohmer and Pialat, particularly the latter’s We Won’t Grow Old Together (1972). A Summer’s Tale is one of many favorites from Rohmer, amongst La Collectionneuse (1967), My Night at Maud’s (1969), The Aviator’s Wife (1981), Pauline at the Beach (1983), The Green Ray (1986), and Boyfriends and Girlfriends (1987).
26. My Neighbors the Yamadas, (1999) by Isao Takahata
An underrated Ghibli masterpiece, a sublime series of domestic haikus.
27. The Fog of War, (2003) by Errol Morris
The ultimate reflection on the stakes of power.
28. The Wayward Cloud, (2005) by Tsai Ming-Liang
My favorite from the Taiwanese New Wave is this cinematic meditation on loneliness and longing.
29. Gone Girl, (2014) by David Fincher
A pristine modern crime thriller.
30. The Souvenir, (2019) by Joanna Hogg
My favorite film of the 21st century so far is this reflexive, non-judgmental depiction of an intimate relationship and its ineffable spell, both toxic and compelling, on the filmmaker’s life and art.
