Bill: My Top Ten Films

In commemoration of the latest decennial poll of the Greatest Movies of All Time from Sight & Sound magazine, I’m posting Top Ten lists on my blog from friends and readers. Feel free to send me yours.

Here’s the list I received from my friend Bill, an accomplished (and award-winning) filmmaker in their own right. Their assorted selections here (reaching from New York to Tokyo) have proven fascinating, and come together into a kaleidoscopic whole. I especially appreciate a Top Ten list that acknowledges a contribution from African cinema, and also my own views on Taxi Driver accord well with those given below.

I struggle with Top Ten lists, because I can think of dozens of movies that equally deserve such recognition. To help myself choose between my favourites, I have given this list a theme: my development as a movie viewer. Here are the eleven films that make up my Top Ten:

Taxi Driver (Martin Scorsese, 1976) Taxi Driver is a sensory experience. In high school, I expected all good movies to have a clear message. I couldn’t decipher a clear moral or message from Taxi Driver, but as soon as the credits rolled across my laptop screen, I knew I had watched something special. A texturally rich experience, Taxi Driver transformed the way I view movies.

A Brighter Summer Day (Edward Yang, 1991) The rest of the world disappears while you’re watching A Brighter Summer Day. This is a love story, a family drama, a gangster epic, and so much more. I watched this four-hour long film in Nashville’s Belcourt Theatre, and when the credits rolled I wished it were four hours longer. My interest in slow cinema was born that day.

House (Nobuhiko Obayashi, 1977) This film is as wild as it gets. During my freshman year of college, I’d walk over to Vanderbilt’s Cohen Memorial Hall to watch movies on Room 103’s great projector screen. Every minute of this film will likely feature something you’ve never seen before; however, its accessible central narrative makes it an easy watch, and its technical innovation and thematic depth make each repeat viewing as rewarding as the last. House opened my eyes to the world of maximalist cinema.

Ali: Fear Eats the Soul (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1974) Next to House, this is the film I rewatch most. Fassbinder is a master of using simple setups to explore complex emotions with piercing honesty. This film contains a handful of locations and characters, but emotionally and thematically, it contains the world.

Dogtooth (Yorgos Lanthimos, 2009) On another evening of my freshman year, Cohen 103 was occupied, so I projected this film on a smaller screen upstairs. Dogtooth is disturbing and hilarious. While Taxi Driver changed how I view movies, Dogtooth changed how I view the world.

Tampopo (Juzo Itami, 1985) Tampopo is responsible for my most joyful Belcourt experience. This is a Spaghetti Western filmed in domestic spaces, and it’s about food and love. More films should be about food and love.

Who Killed Captain Alex (Nabwana I.G.G., 2010) My favourite example of low-budget independent filmmaking. Not a moment of this film passes by without laughter. I often feel like African filmmakers are pushed into a corner in which their films need to focus on trauma. This film, on the other hand, is endlessly fun. It is available for free on YouTube, uploaded by the director.

Shoplifters (Hirokazu Koreeda, 2018) I fell in love with this film’s tenderness after watching it at Telluride in 2018. This film is surprisingly provocative, yet it oozes with love and warmth. I think this combination is wonderful.

One Cut of the Dead (Shinichirou Ueda, 2017) The most I’ve ever laughed in a theatre (and I’m sure the same could be said for most of the Belcourt audience who watched it with me). I don’t want to say much about this, because it’s best experienced without prior knowledge.

Parasite (Bong Joon-ho, 2019) I was so overwhelmed after watching this at the Belcourt, that I struggled getting out of my seat. I cried at work when this won Best Picture at the Academy Awards. Parasite combines its multiple genre influences so effortlessly that this weird arthouse film still made blockbuster box office numbers. I’m thankful it got the eyes it deserves. It gives me hope the same will happen for other daring films.

Beau Travail (Claire Denis, 1999) I watched this mysterious film, the only one that my list and the Sight & Sound poll have in common, at home on my projector sometime last year. Beau Travail features my favourite scene in all of cinema – one which I rewatched several times in a row immediately after the film ended. The history of cinema is deep with riches; I will continue to find new favourites every year. What an exciting thought.

You can read other contributions of Top Ten lists here.