Best Films of the '80s

by Ari, Brian, Jose

Part One

Ari:

And the Ship Sails On - Federico Fellini: Fellini’s late masterpiece is a beautiful summation of everything that made his career so special. It’s all at once a tender and moving drama, a lively comedy, a personal statement on familiar Fellini themes such as love and war, and a passionate and nostalgic celebration of cinema itself. It’s slightly surreal, as many of his later works were, but more accessible and coherent than something like Satyricon (a film I’m still trying to digest). There are individual scenes that contain more power than many whole movies. Fellini’s mastery is on full display in every frame, every moment, every beat. The exceptional photography, the rich characters, the beautiful music - the film is completely engrossing. Many people point to this film as Fellini’s worst. That, like many things of the 80s, is ludicrous.

Kagemusha - Akira Kurosawa: Ran and Kagemusha in the same decade? Kurosawa never slowed down, never lost his touch, never compromised his art. Kagemusha may very well be my favorite of Kurosawa’s films. This is as grand and epic as cinema gets. While not as purely entertaining as his earlier samurai masterworks, Kagemusha represents a maturity and evolution of his craft. This film, like Ran, is a flawless demonstration of Kurosawa’s visual brilliance and an epic feat of emotional complexity. The lead performance by the great Tatsuya Nakadai is one of his best.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being - Philip Kaufman:

One of the most sophisticated and mature love stories ever made. If not for Raging Bull, this would be the best character study of the decade. It’s impossible to properly describe this film in a paragraph or so. The Unbearable Lightness of Being is the very definition of detailed, nuanced character development, with two masterful performances by leads Daniel Day Lewis and Juliette Binoche. It’s set in Prague during the events of 1968, and you could say it’s about how those events take a toll on the two lovers. While that’s certainly a strong part of the story, The Unbearable Lightness of Being is really about so much more. Kaufman and his screenwriters adapt and explore ideas of sexuality and love with an ambition that simply dwarfs most romantic dramas. There’s an incredible sequence at an emotionally difficult stage of the film where Binoche and Lena Olin photograph each other in nude. It begins awkwardly but eventually becomes something affectionate and even spectacular. Ebert perfectly described it as “a ballet of eroticism”. This film was easily one of the highlights of the 80s.

Cobra Verde - Werner Herzog: Another chaotic epic by Werner Herzog and his crazed star Klaus Kinski. Utterly gripping and stunningly photographed (as usual for Herzog). It’s not quite as great as Fitzcarraldo or Aguirre, but it’s pretty damn close.

The Killer - John Woo: Arguably John Woo’s finest achievement. With films like A Better Tomorrow, The Killer and Hard Boiled, Woo became Hong Kong’s Jean Pierre Melville and Chow Yun Fat was his Alain Delon. Melville’s influence on Woo is undeniable. The Killer, like Woo’s best Hong Kong films, mixes the cool atmosphere and slick tone of Melville with the ferocious, but stylized violence of Peckinpah. The only thing was that Woo upped the ante considerably, making his films something refreshingly alive. Chow Yun Fat has never been better (and he’s been quite good in a number of films), the best performance of his great career. If you’d like to see how John Woo redefined the set-piece, look no further than The Killer’s final showdown.

Bad Timing - Nicolas Roeg: I briefly wrote about this film for one of our Criterion features. As I said, Bad Timing is one of the most wrenching, viscerally emotional and shocking films of the 80s. It’s an ugly and brutal experience, but its power is undeniably masterful. Art Garfunkel, Theresa Russell (amazing performance), and Harvey Keital star. My favorite Roeg film.

Heaven’s Gate - Michael Cimino:

This film’s release in 1980 marked perhaps the most bewildering moment in film history. Heaven’s Gate is arguably the most underrated film ever made. Upon its release it was trashed and eviscerated by critics, tanked at the box-office, ruined a studio and basically ended the career of the great Michael Cimino. It went way over budget. The original cut was something like 5 hours. Cimino recut and released a shorter version that was equally trashed. The history of its production is legendary at this point, but unfortunately the reputation it has is totally undeserving. In fact, the reputation this film has is so mystifying to me that I wonder if I’ve even seen the same film that Roger Ebert (a critic I admire greatly) called “the most scandalous cinematic waste I have ever seen”. He can’t possibly be describing the Heaven’s Gate I know. It’s amazing how the industry has changed since then. Cimino spent maybe 46 million to make this film, which at the time was absurdly expensive. He spent 46 million to make a personal epic that carries the stamp of a genuine visionary. Today we live with an industry that, like it or not, spends up to maybe 300 - 400 (ugh) on escapist entertainment like Avatar.

I’ve always felt that something changed for the worse in the 80s, and I think it can be traced back to the reception of this film. True epics became taboo after Heaven’s Gate. Studios lost interest in personal films and began pumping out accessible mainstream fare for the masses. It’s what separates the 70s and 80s, and it’s why the 80s looks almost silly in comparison to the decade before it. Interestingly enough, the last time we saw something similar to Heaven’s Gate was Martin Scorsese’s Gangs of New York, which, of course, is considered one of his lesser films. Funny how these things repeat.

Heaven’s Gate is a masterpiece. It’s a masterpiece from the moment it begins. The scope of this film is breathtaking. Cimino’s vision is awe-inspiring. The production design is masterful. Vilmos Zsigmond’s photography is stunning. Kris Kristofferson, Christopher Walken, Isabelle Huppert, and Jeff Bridges are brilliant. The film decomposes the western genre to create something new. People complained about a lack of plot, or said that the story could’ve been told in 90 minutes instead of 219. That’s missing the point entirely. It’s about living in this world with these characters. It’s about recreating 1890’s Wyoming and experiencing the people, places and events of the county. The final battle sequence is one of most spectacular things I’ve seen on film. Again, it’s amazing that this film has such a poor reputation. As far as I’m concerned, Heaven’s Gate is the definitive epic of the decade.

Black Rain - Shohei Imamura: Imamura’s horrifying, devastating account of Hiroshima and its aftermath is unforgettable. It’s not something I’m too interested in revisiting again and again, but that’s because the film so effectively portrays the horror, agony and brutality of the event. One of Imamura’s finest moments.

The Big Red One - Sam Fuller: One of the great World War II films and a late career triumph for Sam Fuller (House of Bamboo, Forty Guns, Shock Corridor). Lee Marvin stars as the Sergeant who leads his men (including Mark Hamill in a great performance) on several dangerous missions against Nazi forces. Some of the situations are based on Fuller’s own experiences. This was his second WWII film following Merrill's Marauders (1962), which deals with the war in the pacific. Both films are great achievements.

The Last Temptation of Christ - Martin Scorsese: Scorsese’s controversial religious epic is one of the best films about spiritual conflict and an exemplary piece of personal filmmaking. It’s no surprise that this film was reviled upon its release, what with its depiction of a flawed and human Jesus and its radical, but profound final act. The film was deemed blasphemous for its imagination (adapted from Nikos Kazantzakis’ book of the same name) and as Paul Schrader says on the commentary, technically, it is. But it’s Kazantzakis’ ideas and Scorsese’s passion that make this “blasphemy” so fascinating and provocative. The Last Temptation of Christ is easily one of the most thrilling explorations of religion put to film - beautifully filmed and acted, both haunting and emotional. It’s the perfect representation of religion: horror mixed with beauty. One of Scorsese’s masterpieces.

Body Heat - Lawrence Kasdan: Kasdan’s superb update of Double Indemnity is one of the most pleasurable thrillers of the decade and a personal favorite I love to revisit. William Hurt and Kathleen Turner have genuinely good chemistry. The dialogue is the sharpest of Kasdan’s career. One of the great entertainments of the decade.

Stripes - Ivan Reitman: Many famous comedies came out in the 80s. This is one of the best. Classic Bill Murray. Warren Oates as Sgt. Hulka.

Mishima - Paul Schrader:

Paul Schrader’s exceptional biography of the influential Japanese author and political provocateur. Mishima was an artist of the highest order who used his fame to preach old Japanese values and disciplines, eventually committing hara-kiri and shocking the world. Intercut with the details of his personal life (played by the great Ken Ogata), Schrader takes us into dramatizations of Mishima’s stories with incredible style. Add Philip Glass’ soaring music and you have one of most artfully made bio-pics cinema has seen.

The Stunt Man - Richard Rush: If for some reason you need further evidence as to why Peter O’Toole is an absolute legend of the screen - watch this movie immediately. The Stunt Man is rather obscure, so I’ll refrain from spoiling the many joys this movie presents. Brief description: O’Toole is a crazy, egomaniacal director that hires a fugitive as a stunt man on his war epic. The fugitive (Steve Railsback) takes the job after accidently stumbling onto the set while evading police, and then makes the mistake of thinking it’s a good place to hide out till things cool down. Unfortunately he discovers an entirely new type of hell under the strict conditions of his megalomaniac director. The film is wildly original and thoroughly entertaining, with some of ‘80s cinema's classic laugh-out-loud moments. Incredible screenplay. Great film.

Frantic - Roman Polanski: Great Polanski suspense/drama with Harrison Ford as a character caught in an underworld of intrigue after the mysterious disappearance of his wife in Paris. Frantic displays Polanski’s immense talent for carefully constructed suspense. His love for Hitchcock is as obvious here as it is in The Tenant. Great, underrated Polanski thriller.

To Live and Die in LA - William Friedkin: Brutal, uncompromising Friedkin crime drama with a killer twist. I would argue that this is Friedkin’s finest work, superior even to the classic French Connection and the spectacular, underrated Sorcerer. William Peterson is outstanding. Features one of the great car chases in film history.

Brian

Amadeus - Milos Forman: Milos Forman’s telling of the Peter Shaffer play is an emotional marvel. Amadeus manages to travel the gamut of feelings; painfully funny, deftly dramatic, with a rousing score, bringing centuries old music to exciting new life. F. Murray Abraham’s Antonio Salieri is a rightly celebrated piece of acting as is Tom Hucle’s turn as the titular composer into a manic, bordering on crazy genius. The combination of Oscar winning script and direction comes together in a film that threatens to become a melodramatic farce but doesn't, leaving behind a mesmerizing movie, grand in every capacity - a treat for the eyes and ears.

Blade Runner - Ridley Scott: A flop upon its release, Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner could go down as the celebrated director’s most influential and best work. Set in a future more dank than dreamy where artificially produced humans know as replicants illegally roam, Scott’s vision is epic in scale but not a moment unwieldy in nature. Harrison Ford’s Deckard hunts down a series of replicants, wandering through rain soaked streets as questions of what it means to be human arise. Rutger Hauer’s Roy Batty stands as a legendary presence, one of modern science fiction’s finest characters, surrounded by early and fantastic performances by Sean Young, Edward James Almos and Darryl Hannah. With the addition of seemingly countless cuts and variations, the dispute over the definitive version of Scott’s Blade Runner has become part of its renowned status.

Blood Simple - Coen Brothers: The Coen Brothers, Joel and Ethan, first stepped into the American filmscape with this dark, foreboding tale of affairs, mistrust and violence, dripping with enough sweat stains and putrid smells to prove the two were something special from the outset. Even with Frances McDormand, Blood Simple is missing a number of future Coen stalwarts, most notably Roger Deakins, which makes the movie a unique pleasure. The film feels more at home being seen with the brothers’ friend Sam Raimi’s pictures then with O Brother, Where Art Thou?, amid some of the nastiest characters the Coens have yet conceived. Dan Heday’s Marty is a cold, jealous wreck of a man, while M. Emmet Walsh’s private detective, prone to bouts of sudden murder, is equal parts disgusting and compelling. Celebration should also be declared for any and all movies where each scene progressively gets better, with a terrifying conclusion.

Broadcast News - James L. Brooks: Featuring a trio of fantastic actors in top form and a filmmaker in his prime, Broadcast News is joy to fall into again and again. James L. Brooks directs with delicacy his script that blends painfully close realism with perfectly executed dialogue. The crux of the dramedy is the rich love triangle, one that leaves a viewers sympathies conflicted. William Hurt’s Tom is a simple but nice anchorman, Albert Brooks’ Aaron is the unappreciated television journalist and Holly Hunter is Jane, the producer who the two adore, unsure of her own feelings as well. The way Brooks lets his characters rise and fall, allows egos and envies to take hold at inopportune moments gives News a tough emotional core. Hunter’s Jane is possibly her most memorable performance and Albert Brooks peppers the surroundings with classic melancholy soaked one-liners. No other 80s picture induces goose bumps and laughs so deftly.

Do the Right Thing - Spike Lee:

Spike Lee closed out the 80s with a controversial work, accused by many to be a call to riot. Though American culture seemed to become less bigoted as the decade came to a close, Lee pointed out that the stewing hatred bubbled under the skin, perhaps subtler in execution but ever as prominent. To watch Do the Right Thing is to see a man at complete control of his environment. Lee pumped a Public Enemy soundtrack to a pulsating screenplay, as a sweltering typical New York summer day becomes an extraordinary one. In some ways, Lee’s career has never matched this gem, even if he has made an array of effective pictures, speaking furthermore to its guttural and lyrical impact. Undoubtedly, 17 years later, Do the Right Thing remains a vivid, poignant statement about racism.

My Neighbor Totoro - Hayao Miyazaki: In the running for Miyazaki’s greatest achievement, which in turn puts it in the category of best animated picture ever, My Neighbor Totoro is a delight to be savored again and again. Told with sincerity and love, Miyazaki’s world where two young sisters meet a magical set of creatures lurking outside their new home is perfect for all ages. Personally having seen a toddler, watching with subtitles she could not read a word of, run around with a big smile on her face as the parents grinned along, Totoro contains an infectious enchantment on all but the coldest of hearts. Miyazaki’s masterpiece is everything the drawn world and children’s cinema can be.

Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind - Hayao Miyazaki: Hayao Miyazaki burst onto Japan’s cinema landscape with Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, the filmmaker’s first fully original work. Telling the tale of a world suffering from an imbalance of nature and society, how the two can coincide and what happens when they cease to do so. Filled with stunning visuals and unforgettable characters, Miyazaki tells a delicate story, rich with themes and swift action pieces in a truly unique world. The atrocities of war, even the kind believed to have moral validities, is in clear view, as the director demonstrates the astonishing destruction that takes place when the desire for personal peace is forced upon other’s.

Evil Dead II - Sam Raimi: The king of splat-stick, the wonderfully mixed world of humor and horror, is unquestionably Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead 2: Dead By Dawn. Bruce Campbell reigns the screen as Ash, the terrified and, well, whacky S-Mart employee merely yearning for a nice few days off with his girlfriend, finding nasty, angry spirits instead. Raimi directs the film with passion and madness, a freshly severed hand on the loose, a dancing corpse of a former flame, plus blood, gallons upon gallons of blood. It is one of the key cult films of the decade, plus a bizarre addition to the select group of sequels superior to the original. Evil Dead 2 is classic Saturday night viewing with friends who long for a giggle and a scream, without any trace of postmodern cynicism - as Ash so expertly states, groovy.

Fitzcarraldo - Werner Herzog:

A lot of insanity resides within Fitzcarraldo. Werner Herzog’s vision of a man trying to bring opera to the jungles using every means possible is as inspiring as it is crazy. The film’s shooting is famous for its lunacy, home to constant arguments over what unfeasible notion had to be done next, whether or not it had to be done and exactly how the hell could it be. It all seeps into the frames as longtime Herzog collaborator Klaus Kinski shines as the titular character, hell bent on showing anyone snobby enough to doubt his desires that his beloved music could find a new home in an Amazonian opera house. The harsh, cruelty of nature is in full view as Herzog sets a ship of men down the rapids, destined to drag a 300 plus ton ship over a massive hill. Obsession seeps into reality and as Kinski’s Fitzcarraldo views his idea fighting for life, reverence for wanting the unattainable emerges. A breathtaking journey that must be taken.

The Princess Bride - Rob Reiner: One of the trio of fantastic Rob Reiner films of the 80s, The Princess Bride is also possibly the decade’s most beloved. The movie strikes a chord quickly, not relinquishing hold of the viewer until the credits close. Cary Elwes has never and likely will never be better as Westley, the Dread Pirate Roberts. The rest of the cast is equally memorable, the massive yet gentle Andre the Giant, the eerie Christopher Guest’s torturous six fingered man and Mandy Patinkin’s Inigo Montoya, proud speaker of the finest quote of the 80s. The Princess Bride is a perfect blend of adventure, comedy and romance, reveling in each. Fantastic sword fights are had, rats of unusual size appear and a kiss touted as the finest of all time may be worth its description, all elements of a movie that is never anything short of a pure delight to sit through again and again.

When Harry Met Sally - Rob Reiner: Rob Reiner’s When Harry Met Sally is the most popular romantic comedy of the 80s and deservedly so. The enigma of friendship between a man and a woman is skewered through a smart, funny script, only made better by Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan’s catching chemistry. The duo plays off one other with wry smiles, zinging one-liners and the aching sense of something more. Remembered for a few specific scenes and cherished for quite a number more, When Harry Met Sally has a timeless aspect to it, building a personal nature in every viewing and to anyone who has ever struggled with finding the right one at the wrong time.

Ran - Akira Kurosawa: The epic Akira Kurosawa picture stands as perhaps his last true wonder, a towering film that marvels at every turn. Through Ran, loosely adapted from William Shakespeare’s King Lear, Kurosawa shows the cruelty of betrayal, the agony of lost trust and the vicious hatred stemming forth from them. Vividly colored, the direction is complex, the acting masterful and its editing a sharp meeting of restraint and intensity. The scope of Ran is truly majestic, leaving one wondering what Kurosawa could have achieved with modern film technology, even if the flash of his work has only ever been to support the storytelling, never overtake it. Kurosawa was well into his seventies by Ran’s completion but the focus and distinctive touches remained effervescent, a testament to his remarkable career.

Jose

Brazil - Terry Gilliam:

What would become of the world if technological advancement only enhanced the inefficiency of humans? Taking a satirical look at the stalling effects of bureaucracy, Terry Gilliam delivers one of the seminal films of the decade. A portrait of dystopia that’s both hilarious and terrifying, Gilliam creates a universe which doesn’t seem too distant or implausible. Bursting with creativity and homage to classic film; this one is well remembered for the battle between the filmmaker and the studio who wanted to change the pessimistic finale. Gilliam ultimately won and once you see how the film culminates, a part of you will also wish for rainbows and butterflies.  

Moonstruck - Norman Jewison: From the minute it begins, set to Dean Martin’s exuberant “That’s Amore”, you know you’re in for a treat. Cher gives a pitch perfect performance as a widow who is torn between her fiancé and his brother (Nicolas Cage). Ravishingly romantic and hilarious, this small gem covers many aspects of relationships, culture and family as it concentrates on the dynamics of an Italian-American clan and how they deal with keeping their traditions in the “new world”. Filled with brilliant dialogue, beautifully moving performances (Olympia Dukakis is spectacular!) and an utter sense of joy, this is the rare kind of film that is both fantastic and intensely sincere.  

Children of a Lesser God - Randa Haines: In-between his lauded performances in Kiss of the Spider Woman and Broadcast News, William Hurt starred in this intimate film as a professor for the hearing impaired who falls in love with one of his students (Marlee Matlin). Avoiding an extreme romanticizing of its subject, the plot instead tries to portray isolation and how some people are terrified of human contact. There is an underwater scene that results poetic and the film is perhaps one of the most violently sexy ones ever made. Matlin ultimately steals the show, but it is Hurt with his intense pursuit of kindness who remains unforgettable.

Caravaggio - Derek Jarman: A history lesson this is certainly not. Based on myths, rumors and the artist's art, as opposed to what drew him to make it, Derek Jarman's film centers on Caravaggio's affair with two of his models (Sean Bean and Tilda Swinton), his sponsor (John Gough) and his deathbed. Nigel Terry turns in a complex performance as the painter but this is Jarman's film all the way. Making the most of his limited resources he makes poetry out of light, very much like Caravaggio did, and by suggesting and evoking he rebuilds an era we never really get to see. His use of anachronisms is delightful, since he pays homage to the artist's style while reminding us that arts are supposed to do exactly that: shake us out of our comfort and question the world we inhabit. 

Querelle - Rainer Werner Fassbinder: There is a moving feeling that surrounds R.W Fassbinder's film despite its stylized, coldly formalist construction. Brad Davis plays the title character, a heartless sailor who stops at nothing to fulfill his desires. He presents homosexual behavior which Fassbinder constructs in such a way that his criminal tendencies and his sexual orientation are never even insinuated to be related or connected. Filmed in sets that provide the film with a dreamlike texture, this work is able to blend theatrics, literature and cinema like only Fassbinder could. His sense of humor is remarkable, just check out the homoerotic details spread around the decoration while his direction gives Jeanne Moreau an opportunity to be seductive and haunting.

Law of Desire - Pedro Almodovar: Absolutely fantastic account of the doomed relationship between a movie director (the understatedly perfect Eusébio Poncela) and the obsessive fan who falls in love with him (Antonio Banderas). To this you add a murder, a transsexual sister (Carmen Maura who is nothing short of brilliant!) and what else could it be but a Pedro Almodóvar film. For a director who seems to recur to the same themes over and over, it's surprising how his stories are able to feel fresh and original. This time he dissects the responsibilities of a writer and how in a metaphorical way we write our own endings, mixing it with spiritual beliefs that come handy in both extremely moving and highly comical scenes.  

The Cook, the thief, his wife and Her Lover - Peter Greenaway: Peter Greenaway's decadent extravaganza about a thief (an exceptional Michael Gambon) who eats dinner every night at a fancy French restaurant where he intimidates the cook (Richard Bohringer), while his wife (an over boomingly sensual Helen Mirren) goes to the bathroom to meet her lover (Alan Howard). One might think that for a film that takes place in merely four sets, not much would happen, but Greenaway inhabits every corner and fills it with rich detail that complement the viewing experience. His usual machinations on sex (especially through humanism) and the human condition make this one of his most accomplished films, but the best part of it all is watching how the director unashamedly gloats about his cultural snobbery. Not only producing decadently beautiful art out of every frame, but also transporting French Revolution conspiracy (heightened by Jacobean paintings in which the very characters seem to be always conspiring) and turning it into an exploration of the subjugation of savagery through arts. Greenaway could've aimed his attack towards the uncultured, but before film's end he leads us to the poignant observation that when it comes to basics, everyone (regardless of their taste) is reduced to the hunger of satisfying their most innate necessities.  

Zelig - Woody Allen:

Disguised as an Americana mockumentary about a chameleon man, Woody Allen cleverly examines the role of self identity throughout the 20th century and its relationship with the media and the idea of celebrity. Zelig (played by Allen) is a man who tries to fit in by taking the shape of the people he's with; in a jazz band he's a black trombone player, at a Nazi rally he sits behind Hitler himself...With a groundbreaking use of visual effects the film places Allen in the most unorthodox places as his case becomes object of a psychoanalytical study by a "woman doctor" (Mia Farrow) and the film with assured scholarly propriety takes us through a tour of some of the philosophical, ideological and spiritual ideas that often fill Allen's work (his usual question about the meaning of life is one of the funniest parts here). The film mocks the ridiculousness of the roaring twenties with its need to overcome depression by allowing themselves to be in awe of almost anything, but at the same time Allen pays homage to the mood infusing it with a nostalgia that makes us miss those more innocent times.  

A Zed and Two Noughts - Peter Greenaway: A pair of zoologist brothers (Brian and Eric Deacon) lose their wives in a weird car accident and befriend the woman who caused it (Andréa Ferréol). Combining a matter of bodily simmetry, weird zoo business, a Vermeer forger and sibling dynamics; Peter Greenaway delivers a bold film about the eternal examination of immortality seen through humans. That the brothers become interested in experiments with decaying organisms is not a coincidence, it becomes their specific way of dealing with an event that they had been regarding as completely external and specifically scientific to them. Then Greenaway asks how we deal with loss. Their friendship with the woman, who loses both her legs and who survived "miraculously" becomes an approach towards the spiritual (at first the camera frames her like a saint, complete with halo) and as even she begins to question her role, the aesthetics change and the result is a film that hits you all at once. Greenaway's use of visuals is once again astonishing, making visual gags, homage and breathtaking, but rather disturbing, juxtapositions of real organic death and the loss of hope.  

Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown - Pedro Almodovar: A woman (Carmen Maura) tries to find out why her lover left her leading to an encounter with his son (Antonio Banderas), while her friend (Maria Barranco) realizes her boyfriend is a wanted terrorist. Other than the fact that it’s extremely hard to detail the plot because of its twists and turns, revealing too much would spoil the divinely decadent entertainment that this film provides. Pedro Almodóvar’s first international hit is a hilarious masterpiece where the director began exploring what would become some of his trademarks. An homage to classic screwball comedies, it won’t be long before you lose yourself into its quirkiness. Only someone like Almodóvar can make gazpacho and Shiites feel so natural together.      

The Fabulous Baker Boys - Steve Kloves: The Baker brothers (Jeff and Beau Bridges) are professional musicians who are forced to hire a female singer to keep their act. They end up going for Michelle Pfeiffer; a former escort who makes the duo reevaluate the path they’re taking in their lives. Beautifully shot by Michael Ballhaus one can almost feel the smoke in the air when the artists are performing. The Bridges do astonishing work bringing a sense of effortlessness to being siblings onscreen, but this film belongs to Pfeiffer. Her Susie Diamond is the kind of role you can say certain people were born to play; funny, charming and intensely seductive, you don’t even care that she seems to whisper her way through every song, it is this in fact, that makes her so appealing. Michelle Pfeiffer atop a piano, in a red dress, singing “Makin’ Whoopee”, seems to be inventing sexiness.  

The French Lieutenant’s Woman - Karel Reisz Meryl Streep plays a 19th century outcast and the actress playing her in a 20th century film. Jeremy Irons plays the man who falls for her in both occasions. Relying on contrast, the plot follows both timelines and draws out parallels that slowly begin to define the characters. What could’ve been drowned with lazy prophetic undertones is instead enveloped by the kind of hopelessness brought by acknowledging our roles in opposition to fate. Based on a famous novel, the film glistens with literary prestige, but its weight falls on both its leads. Irons is both understated and fiery; while Streep, who remains enigmatic throughout, began the decade with what arguably could be called her greatest performance ever.  

On Golden Pond - Mark Rydell: Henry Fonda and Katharine Hepburn star as a married couple who spend the summer at their lake house where they are visited by their estranged daughter (Jane Fonda) and her stepson (Doug McKeon). Old feuds begin to surface and the film turns into a beautiful chamber piece about family, love and compassion. Perhaps out of sheer nostalgic value, it’s not unusual to end up convinced that this is one of the greatest acting showcases in history. Both Fonda and Hepburn bring to the screen what can only be called “star quality”. Watching these two giants together at such age and delivering the kind of splendid work they do here feels like magic.  

Cinema Paradiso - Giuseppe Tornatore: A young boy (the terrific Salvatore Cascio) befriends his hometown’s film projectionist (Philippe Noiret); their friendship marks them both, as the old man advices the boy to accomplish all that he never could do and the kid develops a lifelong romance with the movies. Giuseppe Tornatore directs with an attentive eye to detail in a film where even the smallest characters make a difference. Done in a raw bittersweet way, the plot questions the dishonest innocence associated to childhood, the inevitable heartbreak of first loves and the idea that we are allowed to challenge destiny. With a gorgeous score by Ennio Morricone and an iconic performance by Noiret, Tornatore’s beautiful love song to cinema is, simply put, the kind of film that constantly restores your faith in the medium.  

Continue to Part II