Best Films of the '60s

by Erik and Scott

 

Part Three

 

Erik

Lolita - Stanley Kubrick: Stanley Kubrick took Vladimir Nabokov’s controversial novel about a middle aged professor (played wonderfully by James Mason) and his affair with a promiscuous 14-year- old girl (Sue Lyon) and began the creative peak of his career - a peak that didn’t end until his final film Eyes Wide Shut. In many ways the novel was a perfect fit for the always controversial Kubrick, who never shied away from disturbing subject matter. The film is darkly funny, with a phenomenal performance from Peter Sellers. BEST SCENE: Anything with Sellers, his scenery-chewing performance alone is worth a viewing.

 

Dr. Strangelove: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb - Stanley Kubrick:

One of the funniest films of all time wasn’t originally intended to be a comedy at all. Thankfully Kubrick was too smart to deny that his film (adapted from Peter George’s “Red Doom”), about a crazed general that starts a nuclear holocaust and the subsequent mounting tensions between world politicians trying to end it, was just too silly to be taken serious. So he gave us instead a genius comedy with brilliant performances from Kubrick favorite Peter Sellers (in 3 roles), George C. Scott, Sterling Hayden and Slim Pickins (look out for a young James Earl Jones as well). This is a flawless, and dark, comedy that still feels relevant today. BEST SCENE: The ending, watch the actors in the background as they attempt-unsuccessfully-to not laugh at Sellers as he gives his speech as the titular German doctor. Also the “precious bodily fluids” speech is hilarious as well.

 

Hard Day’s Night - Richard Lester: I have a particular fondness for music docs and films, and Hard Day’s Night beautifully molds the two into what became a hugely influential romp with the Beatles. Director Richard Lester lets you know early on (the scene on the train) that he’s not taking anything too seriously, and the film doesn’t have to make sense to be enjoyable. The songs are great, the performances a blast, and the Beatles are a joy to watch on screen. BEST SCENE: The performance of “I Should’ve Known Better.”

 

Easy Rider - Dennis Hopper: A hugely influential film in American cinema that still holds up today, Easy Rider is mainly responsible for kicking off the era of the autuer in the '70s. Dennis Hopper, Peter Fonda and a young Jack Nicholson give great performances (and truly fucked-up performances, the cast has never shied away from admitting the rampant drug-use while filming), and Hopper made a film like the Europeans were making. Classic. BEST SCENE: The scene when they wonder around New Orleans during Mardi Gras.

 

Bonnie & Clyde - Arthur Penn: The other film that catapulted American cinema into a creative high point (Midnight Cowboy was instrumental as well), Bonnie & Clyde was so far ahead of its time you may not realize you're watching a film from the '60s. Director Arthur Penn used brutal violence and sympathetic criminal characters to give a truly visceral experience. Directors today are still using techniques from this film. BEST SCENE: The climactic massacre at the end is exactly what it should be: brutal, bloody and long.

 

Psycho - Alfred Hitchcock: I can’t possibly add anything new to this, it has been studied, discussed, referenced and written on by everyone. See what all the fuss is about. It’s brilliant, Hitchcock in top form. If you haven’t seen it, where have you been? BEST SCENE: Cliched as it is, the shower scene remains brilliant to this day.

 

Breathless - Jean-Luc Godard: Godard’s influence is still echoed today, mostly in Tarantino’s early work, but his influence is everywhere. Taking the gangster film and completely deconstructing it all together, Breathless is French cinema at its best: really, really cool and bursting with a love for films and filmmaking in every scene. BEST SCENE: “New York Herald Tribune!”

 

Cool Hand Luke - Stuart Rosenberg: Perhaps Paul Newman’s best performance, Cool Hand Luke remains a brilliantly conceived film today. Newman plays the titular character, a man who refuses to conform as a prison inmate, wonderfully showing the spirit of the 60s in America. BEST SCENE: The sad ending is powerful, but the egg-easting scene is a blast.

 

Lawrence of Arabia - David Lean:

The epic film to which all others will always be judged, David Lean’s massive film has some of the best photography ever put on screen. Peter O’Toole is again brilliant as T.E. Lawrence, the British soldier who helps defeat the power of the Ottoman Empire. Fantastic battle scenes, and a narrative that deconstructs the myth and instead shows us a man that did extraordinary things. BEST SCENE: The famous desert mirage scene, still one of the most striking images to grace the silver screen ever.

 

Planet of the Apes - Franklin J. Schaffner: Can’t say much about this film without ruining it, suffice to say it has one of the best twist endings of all time (“Damn you all to hell!”) and a great science-fiction plot: three astronauts, led by Charlton Heston, crash land on a planet where apes rule and humans are slaves. The ape makeup is dated and cheesy now (actually the only improvement Tim Burton’s otherwise awful remake made), but the film is still entertaining. BEST SCENE: The ending changes everything, and turns a good film into a great one.

 

Rosemary’s Baby - Roman Polanski: A slow, psychological mind-fuck of a film that introduced American audiences to the twisted and brilliant mind of Roman Polanski. Mia Farrow gives a great performance as the title character, who gives birth to the devil’s son after her husband (played by filmmaker John Cassavetes) sells his soul for a better acting career. A dark film that pulls no punches, especially in the climax, Rosemary’s Baby is a classic goth horror tale. BEST SCENE: The entire film is an exercise in pacing, methodically unfolding as things get worse and worse for Rosemary, but the ending tops it all off. “Hail Satan! Hail Satan!”

 

Once Upon a Time in the West - Sergio Leone: One of the best westerns ever made. Another major influence on Tarantino (especially Kill Bill), Sergio Leone mounts his massive film amongst the massive backgrounds of Monument Valley. The best part of the film is how its narrative is just a cloak for the real story - the birth of the American railroads and the west in general. And Charles Bronson might be the coolest guy on the planet. The cast is amazing (Henry Fonda plays a psycho! and brilliantly), the images beautiful, the script brilliant (story credits go to Leone, Bernardo Bertolucci and Dario Argento - not bad) and the violence as brutal as you imagine the old west to have been. BEST SCENE: Every set piece tops the former in this film, and there are a lot of set pieces. Two best action scenes are the shootout on the moving train and the climactic duel between Bronson and Fonda. Classic film.

 

Scott:

The Graduate -Mike Nichols: One of the few (maybe even the only?) films that resonates with pretty much every younger generation. Well, maybe I can't back that up completely, but it resonates with my peers and I, so I can only assume that generations in between connect with The Graduate. I find it even more meaningful now that I have recently graduated college and am stuck in a similar state of limbo for the time being (though I do expect my investment in plastics to take off any day now…). The Graduate still stands as the best portrait of a young man facing the whole "what do I do next?" dilemma. Ben Braddock (Dustin Hoffman) has clearly been fortunate enough to grow up with many privileges at his disposal, but it's the way that he chooses to go against all of it that drives the film. Many young folks can relate to wanting to "rebel" against the older generations that came before them and find their own way, whatever that might be. And this idea seemed (to a certain extent) to be at the core of the countercultural beginnings in late 60s cinema (i.e. Easy Rider) that paved the way for films of the 70s. It goes without saying that the performances, writing, directing, and Simon & Garfunkel score are all fantastic. However, I think that it's this aforementioned underlying spirit of everything that really makes the film memorable to me. It's one of those things that I don't think I can fully explain. Also, possibly one of my favorite film moments is the look of uncertainty on Ben and Elaine's faces as they board the bus at the end. After all they've gone through thus far, they're still a long way away from figuring it all out.

 

Jules et Jim - Francois Truffaut: One of Truffaut's best, Jules and Jim is a bit more traditional than some of its French New Wave contemporaries, but equally rich, inventive, and influential – a moving film about love, obsession, and friendship. Jules and Jim are best friends who pine for free-spirited Catherine, their idea of the unattainable, "perfect" woman. Naturally, she turns out to be anything but, and can't seem to ever really decide between the two. Oskar Werner, Henri Serre, and Jeanne Moreau are all great as the three leads, but perhaps even greater is the classic score by Georges Delerue.

 

Le Samourai - Jean-Pierre Melville:

Melville's film manages to be quiet and compelling simultaneously, something that would probably never fly today. In fact, the first 10 minutes or so of the film feature no dialogue at all, as we view the lead character getting prepared for a hit, which he then carries out shortly thereafter. The rest of the film follows the lone, enigmatic hero Jef (Alain Delon) as he evades the police and angry employers while trying to get away with it. Melville was a master craftsman, and the way in which he builds such a simple story is sort of exhilarating to watch. Sometimes less is more, people (I'm looking at you, Michael Bay). In a book published by Time Out entitled 1000 Films to Change Your Life, writer Ben Slater puts it better than I can when he states that the film "pared the genre right to the bone, distilling the essence of 30 years of gangster flicks, film noir and cops and robbers capers into 100 minutes of taut, existential atmospherics."

 

Army of Shadows - Jean-Pierre Melville: Released in America for the first time in 2006, another tense masterpiece from Melville, filled with plenty of suspense and betrayal. The film was inspired by his own involvement in the underground French Resistance of World War II.

 

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid - George Roy Hill: "I CAN'T SWIM!" goes the punch line of one of many great scenes in which Robert Redford and Paul Newman play off of each other brilliantly. It's probably not 100% accurate to say that the modern day buddy film began here, but this is certainly one of the most influential films of that sub genre. It's also a loving homage to many westerns, capers, and chase flicks that came before it, while managing to put its own spin on things along the way. Whatever it might be, most importantly it's just flat out fun.

 

Blow Up - Michaelangelo Antonioni: There is a certain phrase in film criticism known as "deliberately paced," which is really just shorthand for "most people are going to think that it's slow and boring." This phrase applies to Antonioni and his 1966 film Blow Up, but certainly not in a bad way at all. In fact, the film is much better off for it. The "plot" concerns an unemotional photographer (David Hemmings), who maintains next to no connection with his vain, fashion model subjects. One day in the park, he takes a random photo of a landscape, and then discovers in his dark room that he may have accidentally photographed proof of a murder. Is there anything there at all? Where can one draw the line between what is actually seen and what is seen in the mind? These are some questions that are touched upon by Antonioni, and thankfully without beating the viewer over the head with them. And if anyone can think of a better final scene involving mimes than the one in Blow Up, I'd like to hear about it.

 

Band of Outsiders - Jean-Luc Godard:

I'm still not caught up on Godard's entire oeuvre, but I find this to be the most fun and least alienating of his films that I've seen. I wrote about this for one of our Criterion Collection features a little while ago. Since I'm lazy, here is the brief description I gave for it then: "Two young men convince the woman they desire to assist them on a robbery of her own home. They spend just as much time cavorting through various Paris locales as they do actually planning the crime." Band of Outsiders is a prime example of the loose, off-the-cuff filmmaking style that the French New Wave became known for.

 

Carnival of Souls - Herk Harvey: Though it clearly was intended to be not much more than a B-movie (and the poorly dubbed opening scenes verify that), Carnival of Souls snowballed into a bit of a creepy cult classic that appears to have inspired future filmmakers such as David Lynch and George Romero. It's a simple story of a woman who moves to a strange town for a job, only to be frequently haunted by a mysterious white-faced apparition. Filled with striking compositions and a few powerfully disorienting sequences, Carnival of Souls overcomes its low budget and amateur acting to become a rather chilling piece of cinema.

 

Cleo From 5 to 7 - Agnes Varda: A seminal film of not only the French New Wave, but also for feminist cinema. The film follows a famous and beautiful singer named Cleo between the hours of 5 and 7 (even though it's only a 90 minute film…) as she waits to hear the results of a test that will tell her if she is terminally ill or not. Over the course of the film, she ditches her objectified persona and begins to look at things from a different perspective, and comes away with a new sense of hope in life.

 

Shock Corridor - Samuel Fuller: A reporter checks himself into an asylum to try and crack a murder case, though all he cares about is winning a Pulitzer Prize. While there, he has to try to get info out of three particular lunatics and try not to crack himself. The encounters with these three inmates provide Fuller with a chance to offer some astute, and still relevant, social commentary regarding racism, nuclear war, and communism. Ok, maybe that last one isn't quite as relevant today. Either way, Shock Corridor offers a riveting look at one greedy man's (and perhaps an entire nation's?) decent into madness and paranoia.

 

The Birds - Alfred Hitchcock: Oh, poor Tippi Hedren. Apparently Hitchcock put her through hell on this one. Sorry for her, lucky for us, as this is one of Hitchcock's most enjoyable films. Some of the scenes seem a bit more on the funny side than the scary side today, but certainly not in a bad way – I mean, getting pecked repeatedly by a bunch of vicious flying creatures still doesn't seem like much fun. The suspense is still masterful, of course.

 

West Side Story - Jerome Robbins, Robert Wise: Sure, it's probably a bit overrated, but West Side Story is still one of my favorite movie musicals. I mostly prefer the musical sequences to the rest of the film. I don't really know what else to say about it, as I'm sure most people already know a lot about this one and either like it or dislike it.

 

Night of the Living Dead - George Romero: I'm fairly sure we took one or two criticisms on our last list for neglecting to include Romero's 70s zombie masterpiece Dawn of the Dead. Oops. Oh well, can't make fun of us this time! All joking aside though, Night of the Living Dead is certainly worthy, regardless of how one feels about zombie films. It triggered a more subversive kind of filmmaking that, although it may have lead to a lot of idiotic horror films (and I mean a LOT), opened the door for more twisted and challenging works.

 

If… - Lindsay Anderson: A young Malcolm McDowell portrays Mick Travis, a charismatic trouble maker at a strict, uptight British boarding school run just as much by sycophantic students as it is by the teachers and headmaster. Mick is prone to odd, unsettling lines of dialogue such as "violence and revolution are the only pure acts," and along with a few other students eventually does stage a bit of a violent uprising. However, If… isn't all that dark – it actually has more of a satirical, over-the-top quality to it, which is helped by a few bizarre surrealistic flourishes that are sprinkled throughout. Anderson's directing has a bit of that anything goes New Wave vibe to it, particularly the fact that he chose to occasionally shoot scenes in black and white just because he felt like it. It's an unusual choice, but the kind of rebellious one that somehow fits in with the content of the film.