1943: Shadow of a Doubt (Alfred Hitchcock)

1943: Shadow of a Doubt (Alfred Hitchcock)
For awhile, it was hard for critics to think of Hitchcock as an artist.  He was the "master of suspense" and a wonderful entertainer, but it wasn't clear that his movies aimed for anything higher or more profound than that.  I'm not sure they always did, and for some reason in Hitchcock's case, I have no problem with it.   

What was it?  Was it Hitchcock's sense of humor?  Was it the way he would keep us guessing, depriving us of knowing for sure how the story would turn out?  Or was it simply the pure visceral thrills that he seemed to so easily provide?  Really, I'm not sure of the exact answer.  But whatever it was, Hitchcock could entertain at times in a way that would completely satisfy me, without ever seeming to directly address my more intellectual side.  

Shadow of a Doubt is a perfect example of the above for me.  It's fun, entertaining from beginning to end, creepy, darkly humorous, but it never really forces me to question anything above and beyond the story. All right, maybe it's just good moviemaking.  The story is extremely well-written, perfectly cast I would argue (particularly Joseph Cotten and Teresa Wright), full of some fantastic set pieces, and demonstrates Hitch's understanding and mastery of suspense as well as any film he ever made.  

It's Hitchcock as I like him most.  He's distilled down to his role as master entertainer.  And it would be years before the French New Wave guys let him in on a little secret -- he might also be an artist. 

Other contenders for 1943: This is the sort of year that gives me a slight complex.  I didn't realize, really, how many key movies I still have to see until I started doing this countdown.  But this year, as much as any, exposes some serious gaps.  From 1943, here are all the major movies I have never seen: Jacques Tourneur's I Walked with a Zombie, Howard Hawks' Air Force, Henri Georges Clouzot's Le corbeau, Fritz Lang's Hangmen Also Die!, Carl Theodor Dreyer's Day of Wrath, Jean Renoir's This Land Is Mine, Raoul Walsh's Northern Pursuit, Robert Bresson's Les anges du peche, Howard Hughes' The Outlaw, Jacques Tourneur's The Leopard Man, Mark Robson's The Seventh Victim, and William Wellman's The Ox-Bow Incident.  Given that I've seen very little from this year, it makes sense that I only have one true runner-up. Michael Powell's The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp is another one of these movies that takes its time and gives us an unusually well-rounded look at the life of one man.  I've only seen it once, many years ago, but I remember it being human, epic, and very moving.  But, alas, I gave the year to Hitch as this is one of his films that I've always loved the most.  

9/1/10 I watched Jacques Tourneur's The Leopard Man.  I know it has a huge reputation, and I did enjoy it - it certainly achieves an extraordinary amount given its limited means.   And Tourneur/Lewton certainly understand the power of suggestion as well as anyone I've seen.   

9/10/10 I watched Henri Georges Clouzot's Le corbeau.  I was excited to finally see this one as I know it was a key film to Truffaut during his formative years.  Although I find it a little too talky and plotting and perhaps even a little dated, there are some extremely interesting moments.  I especially liked some of Clouzot's close-ups, and it was interesting to me to see how the idea of a character running from his past identity might have informed Truffaut's Shoot the Piano Player.

9/15/10 I watched Carl Theodor Dreyer's Day of Wrath.  It's a film with a huge reputation and one that certainly has a real special strength to it. Although I would have to say that I still prefer his Joan of Arc, Ordet, and Gertrud, I found this film to be incredibly powerful, as well.  I'm not sure I understand all the subtext, but Dreyer proves to be unusually skillful with nature, actors, and providing his films with a special heft and sacredness.  

9/17/10 I watched William Wellman's The Ox-Bow Incident. Interesting to think how much of an influence it might have had on both the tone and look of Jarmusch's Dead Man.  The dialogue and feel of the film is stunningly modern at times.  And it once again confirmed how much the war factored in as subtext to the majority of the films made during WWII.  Wellman once again turns in a very interesting film.

9/17/10 I watched Jacques Tourneur's I Walked with a Zombie.  It's a very specifically directed film that maximizes all that it has.  I can't say that I fully connected to the story, but I certainly appreciate the strength that Tourneur was able to achieve from all his choices.  

9/22/10 I watched Mark Robson's The Seventh Victim.  Producer Lewton's reputation is valid - he's the master of lo-fi discomfort and offscreen sound, achieving masterful moments with the most limited of means.  Of all his work I've seen, this is probably my favorite.  

9/26/10 I watched Fritz Lang's Hangmen Also Die!  It's a bit long, perhaps, but Lang demonstrates many times how cinematic his eye was.  He also shows how baroque and dark he was willing to take his work.  Some incredible moments, and a personal film, albeit a bit propagandistic.  

7/13/11 I watched George Stevens' The More the Merrier.  An offbeat, tonally strange romantic comedy.  Some of the romantic stuff seems to defy the Hays Code, which is fun to see, but it was hard to ever fully get into rhythm with the thing.  

10/17/11 I watched Jacques Becker's Goupi Mains Rouges.  My least favorite of the Becker films I've seen.  Has a terrific scene near the end in a tree, but otherwise not as engaging as some of his other work.  

11/16/13 I watched George Stevens' The More the Merrier again.  I am sure there have been great studies done on the correlation between viewer state of mind and a response to a work of art.  Even though I pride myself on having a fairly good first response that rarely shifts significantly one way or another upon a subsequent viewing, I have had occasion where I completely change my opinion.  Here is such a time.  I am not sure how I could have ever made the comments above as today I found this to be one of the most wonderful, moving romantic comedies I have ever seen.  The chemistry between Arthur and McCrea is downright dangerous and Coburn is the lovely force, both funny and wise, that keeps the fires stoked.  A new favorite and a lovely film that I hope others get to savor soon.  It brought me the exact pleasure I needed on this glum Saturday.

5/19/14 I watched Raoul Walsh's Background to Danger.  I found it entertaining enough.  Full of twists and turns and Lorre and Raft are always fun to watch.  It was tough though for me to get terribly invested in the plot or any of the characters.  Definitely not top tier Walsh.  Just decent wartime entertainment.  

5/4/19 I watched Raoul Walsh's Northern Pursuit.  There were some impressive action sequences and Flynn was good as usual alongside Walsh.  But none of it felt truly passionate or memorable.  

11/23/21 I watched Tex Avery's Who Killed Who?  Inventive but not my thing at all.  

2/7/22 I watched Robert Bresson's Les anges du peche.  In a rare case, Bresson emerges in his first feature already a masterful filmmaker.  His style is not yet fully formed, that would not happen until his third feature, but his understanding and command of the medium's power are fully present.  

Although I imagine there is a way to view the film, being that it was made in 1943, as a film of resistance, I experienced it at face value as a film of faith.  As such, it demonstrates faith as well as anything I have seen on film.  Bresson finds the cinematic tools to make us understand certain beliefs, such as sacrificing worldly materials to attain a true spiritual state, that in less skilled hands would leave us unmoved and unenlightened.  I experienced the film not only as a film about faith but as an indication of Bresson's faith in the medium of cinema to plumb the depths of human experience and to emerge with emotions of a deep spiritual and intellectual revelatory power.

10/23/22 I watched Billy Wilder's Five Graves to Cairo.  One of Wilder's first American films, made before Double Indemnity and Sunset Boulevard.  Showing up on Rosenbaum's extended 1000+ essential films, it is not surprising that Rosenbaum was a fan.  He tends to champion films that take a more honest look at history and consistently places more importance on that aspect of a film than whether it is entertaining, moving or stylish.  I have never seen a mid-war propaganda film that was any more unflinching.  It seems so much of its time that you can still smell and taste the war on it.  

1942: The Magnificent Ambersons (Orson Welles)

1942: The Magnificent Ambersons (Orson Welles)

I'll never forget the first time I heard this narration below.  It was 1995. I was a student at the University of Caen, in France, and I was watching a double-feature on campus of The Magnificent Ambersons and Touch of Evil:

"The magnificence of the Ambersons began in 1873.  Their splendor lasted throughout all the years that saw their Midland town spread and darken into a city.   In that town in those days, all the women who wore silk or velvet knew all the other women who wore silk or velvet and everybody knew everybody else's family horse and carriage.  The only public conveyance was the streetcar.  A lady could whistle to it from an upstairs window, and the car would halt at once, and wait for her, while she shut the window, .. put on her hat and coat, ...went downstairs, ...found an umbrella, ...told the 'girl' what to have for dinner...and came forth from the house.  Too slow for us nowadays, because the faster we're carried, the less time we have to spare."


In some ways, this narration, and the film in general, changed my life. It made me aware of what is still probably my biggest obsession:  life is moving too fast, how can we slow it down? 


Welles conveys this theme beautifully throughout the film.  We see it, experience it, feel it, and know it on some level to be true.  It's a film of a bygone era that when it's all over makes me want to scrap everything and go back in time 140 years.  


Although this film is one of the most famous victims of studio interference and recutting, the version that remains still has great power to move me.  And, as always with Welles, the movie humbles me with its absolute mastery of the medium.




Other contenders for 1942: This is a year where I fortunately have fewer gaps.  The only major films I haven't seen are Alfred Hitchcock's Saboteur, George Stevens' Woman of the Year, and Luchino Visconti's Ossessione.  This is also one of those years where I only have one close runner-up.  I like Casablanca, but it's never been a favorite of mine.  I really like Ernst Lubitsch's To Be or Not to Be.  It's probably my second favorite of what I've seen so far from the director.  And, I love The Palm Beach Story.  In fact, I might like it the most of all the Preston Sturges films I've seen.  My only true runner-up though would be Raoul Walsh's Gentleman Jim.  For me, it's one of Flynn's greatest performances, and like my top pick for 1941 (Sergeant York), it's a biopic that pulls me into Corbett's life and completely satisfies me with the telling of his story.   Ultimately though, I have to give the top pick to this Welles film, which has always been very personal to me.  Its themes, its grace and charm, and even its playful streak, affect me deeply. 


8/30/10 I watched George Stevens' Woman of the Year.  It covers some very interesting territory at times, probably more Mankiewicz than Stevens.  But it doesn't feel totally fulfilling.  But when it's mining some of the possible shortcomings of marriage, it's as depthful and adult as anything I've seen from this period.  


9/7/10 I watched Humphrey Jennings' Listen to Britain.  It's an interesting twenty minute short film that uses sound to drive the narrative.  But it's mostly a propaganda film that I admired more than really liked or loved.


9/8/10 I watched Alfred Hitchcock's Saboteur.  I found it to be one of the less accomplished films I've seen from Hitch, particularly the second half.  But as with all the great director's work, there are several excellent scenes, including the initial explosion, as well as some unexpected warmth at times from the film.  


9/14/10 I watched Luchino Visconti's Ossessione.  I was blown away. It seemed like such an influence on Godard's Breathless and the way that he wanted his film to look and sound.  And I found it so much more satisfying than either American version I've seen of the same story. Visconti seems incredibly inspired, and his film is full of many wonderful details.  


2/3/11 I watched Yasujiro Ozu's There Was a Father.  Ozu is without a doubt my favorite directorial discovery of the last year.  His movies tell us so much about ourselves, and when it comes to showing us aging and family, I'm not sure Ozu has a rival.  I particularly like his bold, editing style in this one.  He jumps ahead between scenes, always knowing that we'll eventually catch up.  I'm not a huge fan of the actor playing the older son in this one, but all in all, another wonderful experience in the world of Ozu.    

2/11/18 I watched Ernst Lubitsch's To Be or Not to Be.  Another Lubitsch that I don't think is up there with Shop  or Cluny but it is fun a good amout of time.

1941: Sergeant York (Howard Hawks)

1941: Sergeant York (Howard Hawks)
I love Howard Hawks, and almost all of his films I've seen.  He manages to be insightful and human and entertaining and fun all at the same time (in many ways, what I see as the very definition of Classical Hollywood).

In general, I would never call Hawks' formal approach gritty, raw, or naturalistic.  It's something slightly more glossy with a little artifice here and there.  In other words, films shot indoors with excellent production design that makes you forget you're not watching the real thing.  

But I've always felt differently about this one.  When I first saw Sergeant York, it caught me off guard.  I'm not sure the locations are any many more real than in Hawks' previous work, but there's a certain realism on display here that feels new and different for him.  Obviously a large part (maybe the only part) has to do with the fact that this is based on a true story.  If that's the case, that's fine.  Whatever the case may be though, this bio film (along with a Walsh entry that I'll discuss in my 1942 post) feels more real, more true, closer to life than any bio film I've ever seen.  

Other contenders for 1941: This year seems to be unusually rich.  I have several major gaps, but also several films that would be close runners-up.  The major films I haven't seen are:  Frank Capra's Meet John Doe, John Ford's How Green Was My Valley, HC Potter's Hellzapoppin', William Dieterle's All That Money Can Buy, Fritz Lang's Man Hunt, Jean Renoir's Swamp Water, Howard Hawks' Ball of Fire, Kenji Mizoguchi's The 47 Ronin, Ernst Lubitsch's That Uncertain Feeling, Michael Powell's 49th Parallel, John Ford's Tobacco Road, and Yasujiro Ozu's Brothers and Sisters of the Toda Family.  I admire the hell out of Orson Welles' Citizen Kane and consider it one of the most important films of all time.  But for some reason it's yet to impact me on an emotional level, personally and deeply.  I really like The Lady Eve, Sullivan's Travels, and They Died with Their Boots On, but just slightly less than my two runners-up.  I love The Strawberry Blonde.  It captures a lost time and era in a way that feels extremely real to me (realism is one of the things I respond to most in film).  Then there's Alfred Hitchcock's Suspicion.  It remains one of my favorite films from the director and probably my favorite film ever dealing with paranoia and marital suspicion (Gaslight would be up there, too.)  Finally though I gave the year to the Hawks as it grabs hold of me in a way that I've rarely experienced with any other film. 

8/22/10 I watched John Ford's How Green Was My Valley.  A Ford family epic, full of depth, some marvelous moments, and some tremendous visuals.  I wasn't carried along at all times, but once again Ford proves that he was a filmmaker of great heft with a very fluid, almost effortless style.  

8/22/10 I watched William Dieterle's All That Money Can Buy.  An interesting premise and some admirable visual touches.  But I never found myself caring quite that much or terribly engaged by it.  

8/25/10 I watched John Ford's Tobacco Road.  I must say I struggled with this film about as much as I've ever struggled with a film by a master.  It all felt very broad and the comedy never really worked for me. Ford seemed pretty out of his element to me, and this film is as much a testament as any that it's impossible to make a good film every time out, even for someone like John Ford.

8/26/10 I watched Michael Powell's 49th Parallel.  A propaganda piece certainly, as attacking and venomous as anything I've ever seen made during a wartime.  Powell shows a tremendous feel for nature and an incredible ability to traverse tone.  He also does violence in an unusally direct and hard-hitting way.  There's a certain modernism on display here.  And even though at times, I felt like Powell could have tightened this thing up a bit, it's still an impressive work.  

8/27/10 I watched Fritz Lang's Man Hunt.  Propaganda but a pretty personal piece for Lang, too.  Full of some magnificent moments, particularly the opening sequence.  And Pidgeon has a great role.  All in all, pretty strong, with the exception of the romance, which really didn't work for me.  

8/27/10 I watched Frank Capra's Meet John Doe.  This one felt even more farfetched to me than some of the other Capra I've seen.  It had a few nice underdog moments.  But mostly I found it a little tedious and heavy-handed.  

8/28/10 I watched Howard Hawks' Ball of Fire.  It's one of his films with a pretty major reputation, but I must admit it overwhelmed me a little less than much of his other work.  I just never cared that much about the story, and it all felt more screwy than depthful, important, or even that much fun.  

1/17/11 I watched Alexander Korda's That Hamilton Woman.  Leigh is quite appealing, and the film at its best moments reminds me a little of Letter from an Unknown Woman.  Unfortunately though it often feels overly melodramatic, and Olivier feels a little less powerful than in his most memorable roles. 

1/14/12 I watched Alfred Hitchcock's Mr. & Mrs. Smith.  It's of interest to see Hitch working in such different territory for him.  And Lombard is extraordinary.  But Montgomery is no Cary Grant, and the whole romantic comedy just feels like sub-par His Girl Friday or The Awful Truth.

11/22/12 I watched Michael Curtiz's The Sea Wolf.  A great, atmospheric first five or ten minutes followed by a pretty engaging nautical drama.  The movie features an unusually sexy Lupino and some memorable moments by both Garfield and Edward G Robinson.

1/12/13 I watched Raoul Walsh's Manpower.  An unusual Walsh outing full of more artifice than I typically expect to see or feel from one of the director's films.  Yet Walsh still gives it power, mostly stemming from the emotions bubbling up around the Robinson, Raft, and Dietrich triangle.  The theme of unrequited love is clearly dear to Walsh as it shows up in another of his films from '41, the extraordinary The Strawberry Blonde.

9/20/14 I watched Ernst Lubitsch's That Uncertain Feeling.  Merle Oberon was a bit of a revelation to me.  I am not sure how often I have seen her before but she is quite beautiful and fitting for the role in what is a mildly entertaining Lubitsch.  It creaks along at times and Meredith seems a strange choice for the role of threatening male to the Baker marriage.  

10/26/14 I watched Josef von Sternberg's The Shanghai Gesture.  It certainly maintains von Sternberg's reputation as one of cinema's masters of ambient art.  And it is of interest as being somewhat of a precursor to Chinatown and the noir sensibility in general.  The plot though and much of the vitality seem to be lost and it is much more interesting than affecting.

1/1/16 I watched Jean Gremillon's Stormy Waters.  The first film by Gremillon that I have seen and though I did not fall for it entirely it reminded me of a Hawks film from this era coupled with some of Prevert's sensibility from his work with Carne.  It has this interesting variation on the noir theme of the criminal's last job.  But instead of the final job going awry, it is an affair that puts everything and everyone into a tailspin.     

12/16/17 I rewatched Raoul Walsh's Manpower.  Interesting that I had seen it before as I don't remember watching it at all.  It is okay but nowhere near the very best of his work.

1/15/18 I watched Edward F. Cline's Never Give a Sucker an Even Break.  There is some really fun stuff like Fields' Sqwuigilum.  I just wish he didn't find so much fun in ending his films with long, chaotic car sequences.

1/5/20 I watched Yasujiro Ozu's Brothers and Sisters of the Toda Family.  The first full-blown Ozu sound masterpiece.

5/14/22 I watched Gregory La Cava's Unfinished Business.  A film that on the surface impresses by never going where you expect it.  In the way it feels like a romantic comedy dressed up like a drama, it reminded me of Cukor's Holiday.  La Cava puts it all together with great restraint and confidence and I can't ever recall liking Montgomery more than his performance here.  

For the Love of Film: The Film Preservation Blogathon - The Legacy of Langlois

This is a contribution to For the Love of Film: The Film Preservation Blogathon being led by Marilyn Ferdinand of Ferdy on Films and Farran Smith Nehme, aka The Siren, at The Self-Styled Siren.


Henri Langlois was the godfather of perhaps the most important movement in the history of film, The French New Wave.  From 1938-1977, Langlois ran the Cinematheque Francaise, screening movies and educating an entire generation on the history of cinema that had come before them.  But, more important, Langlois saved films and was one of the first film preservationists in the world.

I lived in France during 1994-95 and had many memorable days at the old Cinematheque located at Palais de Chaillot.  I hate that I'll probably never see a movie there again.  The place was absolutely magical.  I swear I'd be watching IVAN THE TERRIBLE and could almost feel the ghosts of Langlois, Godard, Truffaut, and Chabrol alongside of me.  In fact, these moments were so formative that I decided to pay homage by naming my film production company after them, Chaillot Films.

Film preservation is an issue that some of the other arts (literature, music) don't really face as much.  For instance, there's footage still lost from Orson Welles' 1942 film, The Magnificent Ambersons, probably the most famous follow-up film in the history of cinema.  It was Welles' second film after Citizen Kane.  Yet, we may never have the opportunity to see it the way that Welles intended.  Think of it this way, this would be the same as several famous Beatles' songs disappearing or half of one of Hemingway's novels being lost forever.

This Welles film is just one of the most famous cases.  There are a countless number of film classics, considered either badly damaged or lost, that need attention.  According to the National Film Preservation Foundation, "fewer than 20% of U.S. feature films from the 1920s survive in complete form in American archives; of the American features produced before 1950, only half still exist."

The cinema turns 115 this year, but much of its early history is under threat of disappearing.  Film preservation is vital to keeping this artform alive.  Let's all do what we can to keep our film history intact for generations to come.

Please donate any amount you can to support the efforts of the National Film Preservation Foundation.

The National Film Preservation Foundation is the independent, nonprofit organization created by the U.S. Congress to help save America’s film heritage. They work directly with archives to rescue endangered films that will not survive without public support.

The NFPF will give away 4 DVD sets as thank-you gifts to blogathon donors chosen in a random drawing: Treasures III: Social Issues in American Film, 1900-1934 and Treasures IV: American Avant Garde Film, 1947-1986.

1940: The Shop Around The Corner (Ernst Lubitsch)

1940: The Shop Around The Corner (Ernst Lubitsch)
The themes that probably affect me the most in film are loyalty, friendship, and some kind of unrequited love (even if  it might change at some point during the course of the movie).  Of all the films about unrequited love, this is at the very top of my list, along with Letter from an Unknown Woman, Holiday, Gertrud, and Splendor in the Grass. Like those other movies, this one pains me and moves me at the same time.  It's not during horror movies that I want to talk to the characters on screen, it's during this type of film.  I just want to save them from any more heartbreak.  

This is another desert island film for me.  I sold furniture for four years so the retail aspect hits especially close to home.  And the romance connects with me as much as anything that's ever been put on film.   

Other contenders for 1940: I have a few major gaps this year, too. Probably the biggest is the fact that I've never seen John Ford's The Grapes of Wrath.  Other films I still need to see from this year are Frank Borzage's The Mortal Storm, Disney's Fantasia and Pinocchio (I've seen the latter, but it's been thirty plus years so it's really like I've never seen it), Preston Sturges' Christmas in July and The Great McGinty, Ludwig Berger's The Thief of Bagdad, and John Ford's The Long Voyage Home.  At some point, I'll need to revisit Alfred Hitchcock's two entries from this year, Foreign Correspondent and Rebecca.  I enjoyed them both upon first viewing, but neither after that viewing would contend for my top pick.  The only real contender this year would be Howard Hawks' His Girl Friday.  It's a film I really love, and one where I find so much of it totally brilliant -- Grant, Russell, the dialogue, and everyone's timing, to name but a few things. I finally though gave the year to the Lubitsch as it affects me as one of the most romantic films I've ever seen.  

8/9/10 I watched Preston Struges' The Great McGinty.  It has an uncharacteristic tone for Sturges, somewhat somber, somewhat melancholic, and not as manic as some of his other work.  It also boasts another one of his incredibly abrupt and offbeat endings.  I enjoyed it although not near as much as some of his later work.  

8/13/10 I watched John Ford's The Grapes of Wrath.  Ford's incredible eye is more obvious than ever.  But I continue to struggle a little with some of the hokum and sentimentality in his work.  A well-told, certainly well-observed film, but not always fully felt for me.  

8/18/10 I watched Preston Sturges' Christmas in July.  I can't say I necessarily enjoyed it, that it's that much fun.  But it certainly is incisive and has a lot to say about success, class, and the nature of perception. Sturges' unique absurdist perspective and love for wacky sounding proper names are on great display.  And of course, so is his talent.

8/19/10 I watched Disney's Pinocchio.  It's amazing how dark the film is at times.  I'm thinking particularly of the donkey transformation.  But there's great feeling in this one, and I really felt it a significant step from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.  A wonderful Disney film, full of imagination and warmth.  

8/20/10 I watched John Ford's The Long Voyage Home.  I'm still somewhat new to Ford's work.  I've probably seen less than ten of his films.  But I'm starting to see more and more clearly the reason for his huge reputation.  There is a depthfulness and heavy melancholy to some of his work that gives it the kind of heft I've experienced with some Ozu, Mizoguchi, Bresson, and Dreyer.  Toland does some extraordinary things here, there are four or five completely gut-wrenching scenes, and there's a realism to a couple of the action set pieces that is absolutely masterful.  A very strong work for me.  

9/2/10 I watched Ludwid Berger's The Thief of Bagdad.  It's not totally my type of movie.  But for what it is, flights of fantasy and Technicolor deliciousness, it's extremely well done.  Has a little The Goonies and a little Clash of the Titans.  

3/15/11 I watched William Wyler's The Letter.  Exotic melodrama with Wyler keeping you guessing much of the time.  One of Bette Davis' strongest performances, and as close to a noir as I've seen from Wyler. Not excellent but some pretty fine work.  

2/25/13 I watched Frank Borzage's The Mortal Storm.  An extremely well-made film that makes you think perhaps more than it makes you feel.  But it is frightening and communicates the horrors of fascism as well as anything I have ever seen.  Borzage's film seems like it might have been one of the main things Tarantino saw as he put Inglourious Basterds together.  Featuring some terrific set pieces, Borzage builds suspense by working through the characters rather than through music or any other cinematic manipulation.  Borzage who was known for his melodrama impresses here with an extraordinary sense of restraint.

7/27/14 I watched Michael Powell's Contraband.  Reminiscent of several Hitch films during this period, light, chaotic, "chase movies" for lack of a better term, Powell makes it entertaining enough without ever really becoming memorable.  That is, all but the opening shot which seems to introduce us to a different type of entry into a work, a silent single shot of the main character before titles before anything.  

1/13/18 I watched Edward F. Cline and Ralph Ceder's The Bank Dick.  Much of it is extremely funny, and really everything up until the final act whirls and whizzes to great effect out of the off-kilter Fields mind.  But it slows down once the final car chase begins and never quite regains the height of its initial promise.  

11/23/21 I watched Mitchell Leisen's Remember the Night.  The first of what I believe were three films that Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray made together, all of which are excellent.  Preston Sturges wrote the script for this one.  Leisen impresses with the amount of emotional depth he is able to create, producing greater feeling by repeatedly choosing complex character moments over entertaining turns of plot.  He shows such restraint, and willingness to defy typical Hollywood narratives, that by the end he is able to deliver a final moment of Bressonian gravity and weight.   

1939: La regle du jeu (Jean Renoir)

1939: La regle du jeu (Jean Renoir)

Here's a film that will probably forever be mentioned among the greats. It always seems to find its way to the top of those "best ever" lists, and I don't really ever see that changing.  

It's a film that I greatly admire, I'm even in awe of it, but it's also the kind of film that makes me want to put together a "favorites" list.  What I mean by this is that if all I ever saw were "the greats", films with as much universal support as this one, I'm not sure I'd have the same passion around film.  


Many of my favorites are more flawed, less perfect, but they affect me more personally.  When I first started being a cinephile, circa 1994, I wanted to like all the "best films", the ones the critics I respected loved the most.  But then something happened.  I found that I adamantly disagreed for the first time with Pauline Kael, one of the critics I most admired.  It was probably either with Michael Mann's Thief or Michael Cimino's Year of the Dragon.  Kael hated it, I loved it.  And then I began to start questioning some of her other picks.  Soon I decided that it was important to see "the greats", but it was even more important for me to determine my own set of classics, my own favorites, regardless of whether anyone else had championed them or not.  


Tony Dayoub over at the excellent blog Cinema Viewfinder posted a similar discussion late last week.  I thought Tony, as well as Sam Juliano (of another excellent blog Wonders in the Dark), made some fantastic points, and articulated this issue as well as anywhere I've ever seen.  


All this to say I can't help but include La regle du jeu on this list.  It doesn't affect me personally as much as some films from some of the other years or even some of the other Renoir films.  But the direction is as graceful as anywhere I've ever seen and the performances are all magnificent.  It's probably as perfect a film as any I can think of, but in my very humble opinion, perfect and favorite are not, and don't have to be, the same.

Other contenders for 1939: I probably have more gaps in this year than in any year so far.  And some are downright embarrassing.  The most notable films I still have to see are:  Victor Fleming's Gone with the Wind (I'm embarrassed to say, but it's true!), Kenji Mizoguchi's The Story of the Late Chrysanthemums, and Howard Hawks' Only Angels Have Wings.   Other films from this year I still need to see are: William Wyler's Wuthering Heights, John Ford's Young Mr. Lincoln, George Stevens' Gunga Din, Zoltan Korda's The Four Feathers, Leo McCarey's Love Affair, Frank Capra's Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, John Ford's Drums Along the Mohawk, George Cukor's The Women, and Mitchell Leisen's Midnight.  Of the films I have seen, there are three main runners-up.  I find John Ford's Stagecoach to be one of the most entertaining westerns ever made.  Raoul Walsh's The Roaring Twenties echoes many of the themes of another favorite of mine, Once Upon a Time in America, and is an absolutely fantastic crime film. Victor Fleming's The Wizard of Oz still affects me as one of the most beautiful and magical films the cinema has ever produced.  Finally though I went with the Renoir as I admire it (maybe even love it) for it feels in some sense the most like real life -- complex, chaotic, and vital yet still harmonious and in some kind of balance. 

7/18/10 I watched Mitchell Leisen's Midnight.  Charming enough, but I could never really connect with Don Ameche, and the story never involved me fully.  I like Claudette Colbert a great deal, but this is not one of my favorite films with her.  

7/25/10 I watched Leo McCarey's Love Affair.  An extremely sad movie, full of some incredible moments but often a little unfocused.  McCarey proves once again that he is fantastic with actors and can create fresh and real feeling about as well as anyone.  

7/30/10 I watched Frank Capra's Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.  It has a good deal of the hokeyness that Capra has become known for. But it also boasts some terrific moments with James Stewart and the most rich and unhinged performance I've ever seen from Claude Rains. A forced happy ending but an interesting watch with some food for thought.   

8/4/10 I watched John Ford's Drums Along the Mohawk.  Although it's a little long-winded at times for my taste, it reminds me of how important Ford was at retelling our country's history.  Like Capra, he tries to remind us of our past, our values, and the events that led to the liberty that most of us are able to enjoy.  Fonda was a strong heroic character and some of Ford's unusual visual abilities shine through.  

8/9/10 I watched George Stevens' Gunga Din.  Rollicking but a little long-winded at times for my taste.  Seems to have been a major influence on Raiders of the Lost Ark and certainly has its share of memorable moments.  

8/10/10 I watched John Ford's Young Mr. Lincoln.  Ford could be overly sentimental in moments.  But Fonda's transition into Lincoln is eerily close.  And the way that Ford stages and shoots the one murder in the film is among the most poetic and memorable things I've seen in his work.  It rates up there with the titular murder in Valance.  Also, some of Ford's static shots of Fonda thinking, particularly near the end, are powerful, deep, and affecting.

8/15/10 I watched Victor Fleming's Gone with the Wind.  I'm very ashamed to admit it, but this is the first time that I've seen it.  The characters are much more ambiguous than I imagined they would be, and Fleming doesn't really linger on anything.  A little too long and its almost contempt for contemplation wore me out after awhile.  But I'm very glad to have seen it.  

8/16/10 I watched Howard Hawks' Only Angels Have Wings. Although it's more complex, thematically, emotionally, and formally, than His Girl Friday, I still prefer HGF.  But this Hawks is definitely top-tier, featuring one of his very best scripts, and one of Grant's most sophisticated characters.  All that is Hawksian is on display here, and it's a great ride, albeit slightly cold at times.  

8/17/10 I watched George Cukor's The Women.  The verbal mania really wore on me after awhile, and the gimmick of having no men ever on screen stopped working for me pretty soon into the film.  Pretty good performances, and I'm sure it has value for certain people, but I never could really connect.  

10/20/11 I watched Alfred Hitchcock's Jamaica Inn.  An uncharacteristic film from the master.  It felt messy and under-budgeted.  Pretty much a slog even with a strong Laughton performance.  

10/5/13 I watched Mark Cousins' The Story of Film: An Odyssey:  The 1930s The Great American Movie Genres and the Brilliance of European Film.  Perhaps the least interesting installment to me so far, but I did really like those sections on Cocteau, Vigo, and Renoir.  

9/13/15 I watched George Marshall and Edward F Cline's You Can't Cheat an Honest Man.  While not as memorable as It's a Gift it is still an ample and powerful display of the unique comic approach of Fields.  He was very different than anyone I have ever seen on screen but every bit as effective as Keaton or Chaplin or Tati.

2/10/18 I watched Ernst Lubitsch's Ninotchka.  Far from Lubitsch's great works, although there are some wonderful moments like Ninotchka's reunion with her comrades back in Moscow.

1/15/21 I watched William Wyler's Wuthering Heights.  Olivier is great and there are a few scenes where Toland's masterful talent is on display.  But there is nearly wall-to-wall music and everything came off as more forced than felt.

1938: Holiday (George Cukor)

1938: Holiday (George Cukor)
Ah, how Cukor pulls this one off for me!  There's as much suspense in this romantic comedy as there is in any mystery or drama I can think of from this period.  I don't want to ruin it for those who haven't seen it. But suffice it to say, you're not sure where Cukor's taking the story until almost the very last second.


I guess I also have a thing about conformity.  The way that this film deals with familial pressure and the pressure to conform affects me in a very personal way.  In fact, it affects me as deeply as any film from the thirties.  


This is one of those years where it's absolutely no contest for me. Holiday is a desert island film for me.  Brilliant, I think, but more important, just a film that's extremely personal for me.  

Other contenders for 1938: There are a few films I still need to see from this year, most notably Michael Curtiz's Angels with Dirty Faces, Sergei Eisenstein's Alexander Nevsky, and Alfred Hitchcock's The Lady Vanishes.  I do really like Howard Hawks' Bringing Up Baby but not near as much as the Cukor.  And, I love Jean Renoir's La bete humaine. But I can't say it affects me in the same deeply personal way as Holiday.


7/13/10 I watched Michael Curtiz's Angels with Dirty Faces.  There are some tremendous moments, particularly when Cagney starts yelping near the end and the shootout in the drugstore.  But there's something about Curtiz's touch for me that often feels a little heavy.  All in all, I enjoyed it even if it didn't all totally work for me.  


7/15/10 I watched Alfred Hitchcock's The Lady Vanishes.  It's one of his most well-respected British films, but I must say I was a little disappointed in it.  I enjoyed much of the humor of the first thirty minutes, but I wasn't as involved once the suspense part of the film kicked in.  Based on one viewing of The Lady Vanishes, I still much prefer The 39 Steps and consider it by far my favorite of what I've seen from Hitch's British period.  


7/25/10 I watched Sergei Eisenstein's Alexander Nevsky.  Devoid of Eisensteinian montage, this one derives its power from a certain spareness and a commitment to combat verisimilitude.  I could never fully connect to the characters, but Prokofiev provides a haunting score and some of the acting is quite strong.  

1937: You Only Live Once (Fritz Lang)

1937: You Only Live Once (Fritz Lang)

I know exactly where I saw this one for the first time.  It was the exact same theater where I first saw The Blue Angel.   That one located on Rue Mouffetard.

Why don't we ever hear the term "homme fatale"?  Surely there 's a whole group of films where the term would apply -- where it's the man that's destructive, that brings the woman down, rather than the other way around.  I mean I can think of at least a few of these films: Scarface (either version), White Heat, Bonnie and Clyde, and this early Lang noir, You Only Live Once.  

Way I see it is this, in order for a noir with a femme fatale to reach its full potential, you have to have a somewhat naive and innocent male counterpart.  Same goes for noir with an homme fatale.  If that's true, I can't think of anyone better to play the part than Sylvia Sidney.  She had those eyes for days and a face that always seemed a frame away from breaking into tears.  

It's downright painful, right, watching MacMurray in Double Indemnity and Mitchum in Out of the Past as their respective women bring 'em down.  That's how I feel watching this early Lang, too.  I can almost hear myself now, "Damn it Fonda, stop it already, can't you see what you're doing to her?  Don't you know how she's going to end up?" 

I'm fully along for the ride on this one.  It's one of my favorite noirs.   

Other contenders for 1937: I have gaps here, too.  These include notably:  Sadao Yamanaka's Humanity and Paper Balloons, Leo McCarey's Make Way for Tomorrow and The Awful Truth, Mitchell Leisen's Easy Living, Alfred Hitchcock's Young and Innocent, William Wellman's A Star Is Born (I love Cukor's version.  I need to see this!), and Frank Capra's Lost Horizon.  I only have two real contenders for runner-up at this point.  Garbo's performance in George Cukor's Camille absolutely devastates me.  And, of course, I'm a huge fan of Jean Renoir's La grande illusion.  Finally though, in a very close decision between Lang and Renoir, I probably chose the Lang because it's a little less perfect, a little less classic, and in situations like this, I feel I have to give the tie to the underdog.  

7/10/10 I watched Mitchell Leisen's Easy Living.  Let me preface any other comments by saying that screwball comedy is probably my least favorite of all genres.   It just wears on me after a short while.  But there are fine moments in here and overall I would rate it as pretty enjoyable. Even though Preston Sturges penned the script, it really doesn't ever reach the heights of his best work.  

7/11/10 I watched Leo McCarey's Make Way for Tomorrow.  One of the best depictions of aging I have ever seen in film and full of many gut-wrenching and poignant moments.  I didn't fully connect with the character of the aging woman.  But otherwise, I found it to be an utterly bold, unique, and powerful work.  

7/14/10 I watched Leo McCarey's The Awful Truth.  I had seen this one about 15 years ago in a Parisian theater and had a mediocre reaction to it but man was I wrong.  This has some of the greatest moments and exchanges of this entire period, particularly the final scene and almost every scene with Mr. Smith, the dog.  I still may slightly prefer His Girl Friday, but this is undeniably a great work.  

7/15/10 I watched David Hand's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Animation has never really been my thing so I'm not the best judge here.  But all in all, it was entertaining, charming, with a couple of very memorable songs.  

7/22/10 I watched Frank Capra's Lost Horizon.  A movie full of ideas and quite brave for its time.  I've never read the original novel, but I certainly felt this to be both the most aesthetically and intellectually daring movie I've seen from Capra.  One to certainly revisit as it feels positively dense and fresh.  

7/25/10 I watched William Wellman's A Star Is Born.  It is at once an extremely tender and tragic love story.  Cukor's version is one of my favorite films of all time, but Wellman's original certainly doesn't disappoint.  It's a wonderfully felt film, full of unforgettable moments and sincere connections.  Highly recommended.

7/29/10 I watched Alfred Hitchcock's Young and Innocent.  Probably the least involving film I've seen from the master.  He proves to be adept at giving you the inner psychology of his characters, but otherwise everything feels thin and uninspired.  

4/21/12 I watched Gregory La Cava's Stage Door.  Although at times a little consistent, a very moving tale about the world of theater.  Typically strong performances from Rogers and Hepburn, but the real standout is the subplot of Kay and the heartwrenching performance of Andrea Leeds.  

8/25/12 I watched Michael Powell's The Edge of the World.  Perhaps the greatest of all films are those haunted by either life or death.  In this case, there's a cloud hovering over every moment that suggests the latter but a vitality in every frame that leans more towards the former.  Either way, this earthy, hefty work is among Powell's very best.

12/29/12 I watched King Vidor's Stella Dallas.  I'll admit I'm a sucker for these types of weepies and this one was no exception.  It doesn't hurt that Vidor was a real master and unafraid to linger in some very dark, uncomfortable places like the scene in the soda shop.  Melodrama like we really don't see anymore and one of the better of its kind.

2/26/17 I watched Sadao Yamanaka's Humanity and Paper Balloons.  I know nothing at all about the filmmaker and it was the first of his films I have seen.  What impressed most was the film's study of class and the way it examines the idea that there are other things in life of far greater value than money.  Yamanaka also infuses the film with a similar strain of poetry that seems to exist in the other great works of Japanese cinema.  

12/25/20 I watched Ernst Lubitsch's Angel.  Lubitsch's sophisticated touch is on full display in almost every second of the final thirty minutes.  It is a sophistication that is sexy, leaving the viewer on edge unsure how the characters will work out the knots that their lives have become.  Although it is the only time Lubitsch worked with Dietrich, he taps into her elusiveness, her allure, her power.  And I can't recall Herbert Marshall ever being in fuller command of the screen.  

1936: Les bas-fonds (Jean Renoir)

1936: Les bas-fonds (Jean Renoir)

I put this as my third favorite when I recently did my "Favorites of My Favorites" post on Jean Renoir.  It's yet another one of these gritty and very moody early works from Renoir.  I also remember it having at its core one of the most wonderful stories of friendship I've ever seen (this time it's between Jean Gabin and Louis Jouvet).  If there's anything I'm a sucker for on screen (maybe even more than a great love affair), it's a great friendship.  We'll come back to this interest of mine, at least another couple of times, as we count down this list.  

One thing I love so much about Renoir is the tone he's able to strike in these early films.  He manages to be an extraordinary humanist without ever becoming overly sentimental.  Not an easy balance to strike, and I think Renoir does it as well as anyone.  

Akira Kurosawa re-made the film in 1957, and I haven't seen it yet.  But this is one I can't wait to re-visit.  It's also exciting for me to think about people, who have only seen The Rules of the Game and La grande illusion, discovering these early Renoir films for the first time.  It's almost like going back in time and getting to watch your wise grandfather in his rough, and sometimes dangerous, early youth.

Other contenders for 1936: As with previous years, I have some things from this year I still need to see.  These include Howard Hawks' The Road to Glory, Sacha Guitry's The Story of a Cheat, James Whale's Show Boat, John Ford's The Prisoner of Shark Island, Alfred Hitchcock's Secret Agent and Sabotage, Gregory La Cava's My Man Godfrey, Douglas Sirk's Schlusakkord, Frank Capra's Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, and Kenji Mizoguchi's Osaka Elegy.  I also need to re-watch Modern Times at some point.  I think I've only seen it once, and for some reason, it didn't have the impact on me of City Lights, or even The Kid.  I would have two fairly close runner-ups.  George Stevens' Swing Time might be my second favorite musical.  And Jean Renoir's 40 minute Partie de campagne (A Day in the Country) is my favorite short film of all time, and probably the most poetic film Renoir ever made.  

2/13/10 Another runner-up for me this year that I forgot to add would be Kenji Mizoguchi's Sisters of the Gion.  I still have much to see by this great director.  But this is one of my favorites of what I've seen so far.  

6/20/10 I watched Alfred Hitchcock's Secret Agent.  It's staggering to see Hitch's modernism and genius already on display in such an early work.  Peter Lorre in an incredibly entertaining role and some of the most psychologically disturbing scenes I've ever seen from Hitch, particularly the early murder in the mountains inter-cut with the disturbed dog.  And Hitchcock is already doing so much with sound. This is very close to top-tier Hitch in my book.  

7/1/10 I watched Gregory La Cava's My Man Godfrey.  The zaniness of it all wasn't always up my alley.  But there's a real original tone and sentiment here that makes this pretty damn original.  Powell and Lombard have great chemistry, and there are some fantastic moments, including Lombard's impulsive engagement and shower scene. 

7/1/10 I watched Frank Capra's Mr. Deeds Goes to Town.  There's some real greatness here.  But Capra can't always stay out of his way and his heavy-handed sentimentality.  Regardless, this one boasts terrific performances from both Cooper and Arthur.  And it's clear that Capra during this period was working at a very impressive level.  

7/2/10 I watched Kenji Mizoguchi's Osaka Elegy.  Although I don't think it's Mizoguchi at his absolute greatest, it's still a fantastic film. The composition of many of the shots is staggering and Mizoguchi creates a lasting impression with the character of Ayako.  A great final minute or two and humanity, truth, and a very casual naturalism as Mizoguchi could do so well.  

7/5/10 I watched Alfred Hitchcock's Sabotage.  It kinda dragged a little for me towards the end.   But the celebrated set piece with the little boy and the bomb is rightly so, and Hitch's experimental touches and narrative mastery are already well on display.  Minor Hitch but still well worth watching.  

7/5/10 I watched John Ford's The Prisoner of Shark Island.  Although Ford's tremendous humanism is on display yet again, this one lacked a little depth and urgency for me.  But as always, chez Ford, it is extremely well-acted and extremely well-told.  

10/21/11 I watched Sacha Guitry's The Story of a Cheat.  It's playful and in the first-person, and so I can see why it was meaningful to the filmmakers of the Nouvelle Vague.  But now it's a little bit of a bore.  

2/12/17 I rewatched George Stevens' Swing Time.  Long time considered one of my favorite musicals since I first saw it in 1995, Astaire and Rogers still impress with their amazing chemistry and both their fast and elegantly slow numbers.  

3/3/18 I watched Jack Conway's Libeled Lady.  There are some fantastic scenes, certainly, including the scene when William Powell first has dinner with Myrna Loy and Walter Connolly and really every moment with Powell is top shelf.  But some of the other scenes just seem to sag a little.  

1/16/22 I rewatched Sacha Guitry's Le Roman d'un tricheur.  There should be a name for a work of art that was significant in the development of another artist one greatly admires but for which the power is greatly diminished when consumed in a much different context and historical moment.  I can see why Guitry's film would have such an influence on early Godard and Truffaut.  It is liberated and playful in ways that no other film at that moment that I know of had been and it's told almost entirely in voiceover and first person.  

2/13/22 I watched John Ford's The Prisoner of Shark Island.  The more John Ford I watch the more I feel that, as much as any American director of his generation, he explored the issue of race relations among blacks and whites in this country.  Here, already in the 1930s, he gives us a story with black heroes and once again a scenario where our white lead needs his black friend in order to overcome the obstacles in front of him.  

Has there ever been an American director who more consistently grappled with our country's past or who more often employed songs like "Taps" and "Dixie" that immediately call to mind our wars and our history?

Not to mention it is hard to overlook the deep humanism at work in this film, a quality of Ford I've read about but have only begun to appreciate.