The temptation to revisit old ground has always been there, and even the master himself, Alfred Hitchcock, once decided to rework his own material. With the rise of postmodernism in the seventies, the remake evolved into a legitimate directorial tool. You might recall the sharp execution of Siegel’s Body Snatchers under the direction of the then-prominent Phil Kaufman (though Abel Ferrara later tackled the same story, and frankly, it was much worse). De Palma breathed new life into the classic gangster tale Scarface, which proved to be a massive hit and stands as one of the premier American films of the eighties. Friedkin attempted to capture the essence of Fear in a rather lackluster remake of the Clouzot classic. However, Friedkin would eventually find much greater success when he revisited Lumet’s 12 Angry Men. Bob Rafelson offered a somewhat mediocre reimagining of The Postman Always Rings Twice. McBride took a stab at Breathless, a move that the critics of the era tore apart, yet looking back, it feels like a thoughtful and successful tribute to the Godard masterpiece. Among the more successful reinterpretations, one should certainly note Carpenter’s The Thing, Oz’s Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, Soderbergh’s Ocean's Eleven, Scorsese’s Fear, and Haneke’s own take on Funny Games. On the other hand, the lackluster efforts include Badham’s version of Nikita, Crowe’s Vanilla Sky (though the original wasn't exactly a sensation either), and the completely misplaced Psycho by Van Sant.
Nicole Nelson772 said:It’s a bit depressing, isn't it? This whole debate over what counts as mainstream versus what doesn't. But hey, I suppose we shouldn't get too philosophical about it. For me, the heavyweight champion of mainstream directors has to be Ridley Scott—and he probably is, globally speaking. Now, look, certain Scorsese films are nothing short of genius. Specifically, "Goodfellas." In my estimation, if you pair that with "The Godfather" and "The Departed," you've basically got the greatest gangster movies ever made. However, that doesn't really excuse his decision to dive into that incredibly dull biopic, or his choice to churn out such a greasy, uninspired remake of an already great film. And honestly, that "Tarantino is just Tarantino" argument? That’s one of the biggest reasons why I can't quite stand him. He’s essentially living proof of how you can package anything and sell it to people under the guise of being "original." No offense intended, truly.
When I used the phrase "Tarantino is just Tarantino," I wasn't making a judgment on his quality. But honestly, if you were blown away by *Pulp Fiction*, I don't quite grasp how nothing since then has felt "substantial" enough for you. *Jackie Brown* is pure Tarantino, just dialed back a notch, as is *Kill Bill*...
Nicole Nelson772 said:1. Gladiator 2. The Godfather 3. Scent of a Woman 4. Dog Love/21 Grams 5. Insider 6. The Exorcist 7. Dead Poets Society 8. Life is Beautiful 9. Man on Fire 10. Silence of the Lambs 11. Shawshank Redemption 12. Rosemary's Baby 13. There Will Be Blood 14. Se7en 15. Blade Runner 16. Annie Hall/Match Point 17. Rear Window 18. Some Like It Hot 19. Saving Private Ryan/Schindler/Empire of the Sun/The Color Purple 20. The Goonies 21. Vera Drake 22. 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days 23. Dead Man Walking 24. Life is a Wave 25. Brokeback Mountain 26. Boys Don't Cry 27. Into the Wild 28. Juhu 29. Psycho/Marnie 30. Shine
etc, etc... I guess I went a bit overboard there 😲
It’s an interesting selection—rather unpredictable. I find it difficult to grasp how one person could appreciate both The Color Purple and Vera Drake simultaneously, much like pairing Dog Love with Dead Poets Society. But then again, people are creatures of infinite variety. Still, placing Marnie alongside Psycho feels off; Alfred Hitchcock has far superior works to offer than that.
Lisa Ross65 said:Yeah, well, he’s vanished now. That movie of his, *The Great Raid*, was a total dud—and now he's just churning out TV shows like *Californication* and *True Blood*. Maybe he'll land a tiny cameo for Linda Fiorentino if he's lucky.😁
It seems Fiorentino has slipped off the radar entirely, which is quite a shame given how much potential she had to offer.🙂 While *Californication* remains an exceptional series in my estimation, I can't help but wonder how much more interesting it would be to see a character like Lindice navigating those specific streets.
Donner's original version of The Omen serves as a perfectly competent studio horror, much like the abundance of such films produced during the 1970s—at one point, they were almost ubiquitous. While certain elements feel somewhat safe or even naive, the film remains an exemplary specimen of its genre. That said, it still sits a tier below heavyweights like Friedkin's The Exorcist, De Palma's Carrie, or Polanski's Rosemary's Baby, which is how it's frequently categorized in these discussions.
Douglas Robinson12 As specified by: If you ask me, based purely on memory—if you just don't "get" Bresson, then you aren't really getting cinema at all. It really just comes down to knowing where to start. *Pickpocket* and *A Condemned Man Escaped or The Wind* are essentially "Bresson for Beginners"—though I have to admit, that first one remains one of my absolute all-time favorites. Then there is *A For Balthazar*, which is pure cinematic perfection; it’s the kind of film that could break even a heart of stone, much like *Mouchette* or *Diary of a Country Priest*. I'll be honest, though—there are some of his later works that I haven't quite managed to fully wrap my head around, such as *The Devil Probably*. That said, *L'Argent* is also excellent, serving as a great standout from his final period in the early '80s.
I sign off on this from start to finish, though I haven't sat down with L'Argent yet.
Lisa Ross65 said:Let’s shake things up here. If we're narrowing it down to just five films that absolutely belong in any serious home collection, these are my picks: Casablanca Pinocchio Pinocchio (Disney) The Sound of Music The Thing (Carpenter) La Stradia (Fellini)
That’s an interesting list. I can certainly get behind Fellini and Carpenter, though personally, I'd probably lean toward Dolce Vita or the Witching Hour instead... Casablanca doesn't quite make my top five, and The Sound of Music wouldn't even crack my top 555 essential films. As for Pinocchio, it's been far too long since I last watched it to offer much of an opinion.
I have always been drawn to the anarchic energy in Dante's work; by contrast, I’ve often found Zemeckis's style to be somewhat crude and overly sterile, even if I hold the Back to the Future trilogy quite dear. Take a look at Matinee and Second Civil War, and you might find that Dante hasn't actually lost his edge entirely. While they may not reach the heights of Howling, Gremlin, or The Burbs, they certainly remain worth your time.
I finally sat down to watch it today—it’s actually quite good, better than I expected, even. I've always been a fan of Joe Dante; it feels like a bit of an injustice that he hasn't received as much credit as directors like Robert Zemeckis, who often seem to get the lion's share of the spotlight.
Indeed, it seems the old lion Verhoeven has finally returned to his peak. It’s an exceptional piece of filmmaking that comes with my highest recommendation.
1971 — The French Connection Dirty Harry The Gambler The Last Picture Show A Clockwork Orange Klute Five heavy hitters... a masterclass from start to finish
While 1974 could easily make the cut—think The Godfather Part II, Blow Out, or Chinatown—and 1975 was just as formidable with Nashville, Jaws, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest—1976 might actually be the definitive turning point of the seventies. We're talking Taxi Driver, Carrie, Annie Hall, Assault on Precinct 13, and Rebel Josey Wales.
1. Peter Bogdanovich was essentially the golden boy of the early seventies; his work on *The Last Picture Show* served as one of the bedrock pillars for New Hollywood. Since then, however, he has largely vanished from the cultural conversation.
2. Philip Kaufman represented such immense promise during the seventies and early eighties, yet these days he seems relegated to directing mid-tier crime procedurals and unremarkable dramas.
3. Walter Hill—the man behind *The Driver*, *The Warriors*, and *The Long Good Friday*... though I know some folks on this board have dismissed *The Warriors* as trash, but considering some people have leveled similar critiques at Scorsese, Kubrick, or Godard, I’d prefer not to dwell on those opinions.
4. Abel Ferrara stands out as perhaps the most skilled practitioner to emerge from the era of learning the craft under someone like Corman; he carries that Scorsese-esque influence, yet there is a certain irony in the fact that if you spend enough time being told you're a genius, you might just end up following the Ferrara trajectory.
5. John Landis was effectively the architect of subversive American comedy in the early eighties, but more recently, his filmography includes projects like *Kennedy's Children*—frankly, any commentary on his recent output feels redundant.
6. John Waters, often hailed by enthusiasts as the king of bad taste and a pioneer of unapologetic cult cinema, seems to have pivoted toward a more politically correct sensibility lately; even the crown has lost its luster.
7. Jonathan Demme used to be a trendsetter with films like *Caged Heat* or *Crazy Mama*, but nowadays, he appears to be merely following the trends others set.
8. Michael Mann has a contingent of cinephiles who argue his peak was reached back in the eighties with *Thief* and *Manhunter*. It isn't an entirely baseless claim, given that while *The Last of the Mohicans* and *Heat* were major achievements, films like *Ali* and *Collateral* feel like mere repetitions of his established stylistic and thematic tropes—competent enough, certainly, but creatively redundant.
9. William Friedkin is another casualty of the New Hollywood era, an immensely talented director who seems to have wandered off into the wilderness of creative irrelevance.
10. Brian De Palma remains the only true postmodernist in contemporary American cinema. He has never been fully understood or accorded the respect he deserves, and lately, he seems to have fallen into the trap of overindulgent stylistic gimmicks that play too heavily on his own cinematic legacy.
11. Francis Ford Coppola has been creatively stagnant since *Apocalypse Now*; *Rumble Fish* and *The Godfather Part III* were little more than brief attempts at keeping the flame alive.
12. Roman Polanski—had he directed *Oliver Twist* during his *Cul-de-sac*, *Repulsion*, or *Rosemary's Baby* era, we might be discussing a masterpiece of the decade; instead, it serves as a textbook example of wasted potential, and even *The Pianist* feels somewhat overpraised.
It seems some of you have spent a little too much time looking at Nashville and even less time with The Long Goodbye or Thieves Like Us. Without those titles in the mix, nobody should really be attempting to rank an Altman "best of" list...
It’s a revisionist western rather than an anti-western; you don't see that "anti" sentiment even in the work of Altman or Kaufman, and certainly not with Arthur Penn. The New Hollywood era of the seventies wasn't inherently "anti" anything, despite what the armchair intellectuals usually prefer to believe. It was simply, as the name implies, *new*. It offered a fresh, different perspective on the status quo—a revisionist lens, if you will.