Late Showing: My Sight & Sound 10
it's just a list of australian new wave films (jk, but also--)
Dear Sight & Sound: My Top 10 Films of All Time
Last week, British film magazine Sight & Sound published their once-every-decade 100 Greatest Films of All Time list. The list created from a poll sent out to invited critics, archivists, and academics, who each submit their own top 10 greatest films of all time. The list is seen as a major indicator of critical zeitgeist, and holds a lot of weight— similar to AFI’s Top 100 Films.
Notably, this year the top spot on the list was taken by Jeanne Dielman, 23 Commerce Quay, 1080 Bruxelles, a feminist film made by Belgian filmmaker Chantal Akerman. The film is 3 hours and 21 minutes long, and is essentially an endurance test that reckons with the subjugation of women to the domestic sphere. It’s the first film directed by a woman to appear in the #1 spot, which has mainly been dominated by Citizen Kane, though Vertigo took the coveted position back in 2012.
Overall, I don’t have many particular thoughts or opinions about the list, though it is nice to see that the film community is bringing important work by women and people of color into the canon. However, over on Twitter and in film circles it’s the topic du jour, with critics sharing what their top 10 lists were and people arguing over the various additions and omissions.
I’ve been thinking about what I’d put on my own top-10, which is an interesting thought exercise. I don’t feel capable of choosing the greatest films, which depends deeply on history and influence and feels like it should be entirely objective when I don’t think that’s possible with art. But, I can choose the 10 films that are the greatest to me. These are the films that have moved me and continue to move me, that fascinate me with their craft, speak to my soul, reckon with the chaos of the universe, and, in some cases, give me subversive delight. At least, these are the ones I choose in this day at this moment.
Dear Sight & Sound: here’s my (unranked) list. Please invite me to the poll next time.
The Age of Innocence (1993) - A sumptuous, aching film about longing, regret, and the way social codes can be unspeakably cruel all while appearing polite. It’s one the greatest literary adaptations, and features performances, lighting, cinematography, and editing (all hail queen Thelma Schoonmaker) that are endlessly moving to me. Thanks, Marty. <3
In a Lonely Place (1950) - Watching Nicholas Ray’s simmering noir sort of feels like the ground beneath you disappearing… which, frankly, makes sense given what was happening in Ray’s personal life at the time. Humphrey Bogart and Gloria Grahame are at their all-time best here, giving the film some of the most romantic moments in history, while also serving as a warning that imagination is seductive, but can also be destructive. (I wrote about this film, along with Beginners (2011) for Bright Wall/Dark Room).
Carnival of Souls (1962) - This bizarre little cult film is a dreamlike horror set in my beloved Salt Lake City. It has a GRIP on me that is perhaps best described by the film itself. It started my love affair with The Great Salt Lake, and led me to naming my Etsy business after The Great Saltair. (I also wrote about this one for Bright Wall/Dark Room).
Amadeus (1984) - This film— its writing, editing, acting, directing— stands besides Mozart’s music, meeting the genius at his own level. No, it’s not ~factual~, but it invites you into the music like no other medium could. It’s thrilling, but simultaneously heartbreaking so see how Salieri, our patron saint of mediocrity, fails to see that recognizing and appreciating genius is its own talent.
Don’t Look Now (1973) - You know me, I could not make it through this list without including a filmmaker involved in the Australian New Wave, starting with Nicholas Roeg. I’ve dug into this film’s craft on a frame-by-frame level and I love it more each time I see it. Frankly, it did the horror-as-trauma thing better than any “elevated” horror in recent years, and it did back in the 1970s and with certified hottie Donald Sutherland. (And again, I wrote about this one for Bright Wall/Dark Room).
The Third Man (1949) - Carol Reed’s film, literally made in the rubble of post-war Austria, is the paragon of noir style. It’s cynical as hell, dryly funny, and then ends with a shot that cuts open the film to reveal its tragic, lonely heart. Possibly the best-looking film in history.
Master & Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003) - No, I did not forget my man Peter Weir (also of the Australian New Wave!) and the greatest action/adventure film of all time. This is a film where OCEANS ARE BATTLEFIELDS, what’s not to love?!? (yes, I own this shirt) Okay, but really— this is a film about friendship, brotherhood, the balance between nature and humanity and the violence in both. It’s also a technical masterpiece.
The Green Knight (2021) - This is the newest film on the list by nearly twenty years, because usually I like to let things settle a bit before I put them in my most venerated spots. However, The Green Knight is different. I came out of the theatre practically shaking with excitement. David Lowery uses film language the way I aspire to.
The Awful Truth (1937) - I knew I was going to include a Cary Grant comedy on this list, and while perhaps Bringing Up Baby is the real great, my personal love for The Awful Truth won out. It’s a classic remarriage plot, made breezy by Grant and Irene Dunne (and Ralph Bellamy as the nice schmuck), and ends with some incredibly clever Hayes-code appropriate innuendo.
Fargo (1996) - I also grew up in a frozen tundra filled with people who have a distinctive veneer of niceness! But why this film really sticks with me is because Margo, as played by Frances McDormand, is my hero. As I get older, she represents who I want to be and the life I want to have— just to be kind, enjoy a beautiful day, and go home to a sweet guy who loves ducks and also me.
I’m tickled that I ended up including films from nearly all decades since the 1930s— to fill things in, I’d add Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans for the 1920s and probably Beginners for the 2010s.
This is a list that would change dramatically depending on the day. Looking at it, I’m already thinking of the films I didn’t include. What about surrealist films like Lost Highway and Mulholland Drive? What about horror classical like The Exorcist? What about 2001: A Space Odyssey, which I once saw in IMAX and practically ascended as the sound rumbled the whole theater? What about the classics that I really do adore— Citizen Kane, Seven Samurai, The Seventh Seal, Casablanca, The Godfather?
Despite the fact that the 2022 Sight & Sound list featured many significant firsts, there’s of course a lot of omissions, and a failure to fully acknowledge that cinema is a world art. However, I do think it’s a bellwether of an expanding canon, and that’s reason to celebrate.
And, it’s a great conversation starter, so— what is your Sight & Sound 10? what type of film do you feel deserves acknowledgement? what recent film do you think deserves a spot? Let me know.