All movie critics are asked two inevitable questions: (1) "How many movies do you see in a week?" and (2) "What's the greatest film of all time?" Gene Siskel found that it didn't matter what his reply to (1) was: "I can say one or a dozen--it doesn't matter. The real answer is between four and ten, but they don't really care." The answer to (2), as we all know, is "Citizen Kane." When naming that film, I sometimes even joke, "That's the official answer." The most respected "best film" list in the world is the one the UK film magazine "Sight & Sound" runs every 10 years. They poll the world's directors, critics, festival heads, archivists and others. Ever since 1962, the top film has been "Kane."
"Citizen Kane" is arguably the most important film, for two reasons: It consolidated the film language up until 1941 and broke new ground in such areas as deep focus, complex sound, and narrative structure. The other reason is that it demonstrated the auteur theory 25 years before it was being defined (of course that theory was already being demonstrated in silent days). It was "a film by Orson Welles." It dramatized that the controlling author of a film, especially a great film, is usually its director, not its studio, producers, writers or financial backers. A movie studio, Welles said, is the best toy train set a boy could ever hope for.
If Welles became the poster boy for auteurs, his roller-coaster experiences later in his career demonstrated the hazards of such a position. From the time his second film, "The Magnificent Ambersons," had its ending destroyed by the studio, he became the favorite martyr of film critics. We could say: Look what he did when he had artistic freedom! Look what you did by mistreating him! Even his great "Touch of Evil" had its magnificent uninterrupted opening shot (now restored) hacked to pieces and re-scored. He sometimes said "The Trial" (1962) was his first film since "Kane" over which he had complete control. He segued into poster boy against all the forces against personal, independent, ground-breaking films.
So it's settled: "Citizen Kane" is the official greatest film of all time, with Renoir's "Rules of the Game" (1939) close on its heels. "Kane" is important both for itself and for what it symbolizes. But people don't always ask about the greatest film. They ask, "What's your favorite movie?" Again, I always answer with "Citizen Kane." But is that true, or only convenient?
Let us agree that all lists of movies are nonsense. I have steadfastly refused to compose any list of films except for my annual Best 10 list, and the Sight & Sound poll--which has, after all, some real significance. Despite the entreaties of countless editors, authors and websites, I decline to make lists of the best comedies, horror films, Christmas films, family films, Westerns, musicals, political films, silent films, films about dogs, and so on. That way madness lies.
Even more futile is a list of "favorite" films, although my Sight & Sound list sort of performs that function. I take delight in Jonathan Rosenbaum's reply to the question: "It would be whatever Carl Dreyer film I had seen again most recently." There's an answer that makes sense for me, although instead of Dreyer I might choose Bergman, Fellini, Herzog, Scorsese, Ozu, Hitchcock, Kurosawa, Keaton, or...you see what I mean, and I haven't even reached directors under 60. I get squirmy when people try to pin me down. The only truly honest answer is: I don't know.
But I'll ask myself: What is my favorite film? Or I'll skew the question slightly: What film would I most like to see again right now? The answer would not be "Kane." After seeing it countless times and going through it a shot at a time, I dunno, 25 or 50 times, and recording a commentary track for it, I have sort of finished with it. I admire it enormously, but saints preserve me, it is not the movie I would most like to see again right now.
Right now, this moment, the answer that would spring most quickly to mind is Fellini's "La Dolce Vita" (1960). I've seen it, oh, at least 25 times, maybe more. It doesn't get old for me. Age has not withered, not custom staled, its infinite variety. I've grown so worked up just writing this paragraph that I want to slide in the DVD and start watching immediately. People asked me a few years ago why I included the movie in my annual Ebertfest, since it was, they said, hardly "overlooked," and the festival showcases films that deserve more attention. I said it was unlikely that more than a few dozen in the 1,600-seat theater would ever have seen it in a pristine 35mm print on a truly big screen. In gloomier moments, I wondered how many in the audience would never have seen it at all. What better definition of an overlooked film is there, than one want to drag everybody else to?
But my purpose is not to tell you why "La Dolce Vita" is wonderful. It's in the Great Movies Collection. To that re-review, I might add that it is one of the most visually fluid movies ever made, a movie that approaches music in its rushing passion, not simply because Nino Rota's score is one of the best ever recorded, but because the characters seem to move with music within them (joyful, lustful, exciting, doubtful, sad). Fellini worked in Italy at a time of dubbed dialogue, and he sometimes played music loudly as he filmed a scene. That's why the characters often seem to be moving to unheard rhythms.
Yes, there are objective reasons why the movie is a great one. But why is it the one I most want to see right now? The answer to that sort of question is almost always partly autobiographical. For me, it has become a mirror held up to my life, and a bellwether of things to come. I first saw it in London in 1962, and in 1972 I went through it a shot at a time at the Conference on World Affairs in Boulder. Then again in about 1982, 1992 and 2002. Each time I said something like thus (quoting from my GM review, with a few corrections):
Movies do not change, but their viewers do. When I saw "La Dolce Vita" in 1962, I was an adolescent for whom "the sweet life" represented everything I dreamed of: Exotic European glamour, sin, the weary romance of the cynical newspaperman. When I saw it again, around 1970, I was living in a version of Marcello's world. Chicago's North Avenue was not the Via Veneto, but at 3 a.m. the denizens were just as colorful, and I was about Marcello's age.
When I saw the movie around 1980, Marcello was the same age, but I was 10 years older, had stopped drinking, and saw him not as a role model but as a victim, condemned to an endless search for happiness that could never be found, not that way. By 1991, Marcello seemed younger still, and while I had once admired and then criticized him, now I pitied and loved him. And when I saw the movie right after Mastroianni died, I thought that Fellini and Marcello had taken a moment of discovery and made it immortal. There may be no such thing as the sweet life. But it is necessary to find that out for yourself.
Of course I saw the movie many other times. Now it strikes me, among other things, as profoundly spiritual, and not simply because it opens and closes with classic Christ symbols. Opinion has come around on that. When I first saw it, "La Dolce Vita" was on the Condemned list of the Catholic Church. I knew views were changing when I was asked to introduce and discuss it before a convention of film educators who were all nuns. Then during the reign of Pope John Paul II, it appeared on the Vatican's list of great films with spiritual meaning.
The first time I saw it, I confess I had lust in my heart. Anita Ekberg electrified me, and I was inflamedd by the wild party at the end. In later years, I began to focus more on Marcello, as I should have from the beginning. The union of Mastroianni, story and direction is one of the most perfect trinities in film history. I saw the impatient hunger and ambition of youth. The life and death of Steiner providing, for Marcello, an idealistic inspiration and a crushing disillusionment. The role of his father, providing a template for what Marcello had become, and a warning of how he could end. Marcello's relationships with women, those of a man who objectified them, and was absorbed in himself. The Madonna of the fake miracle, counterbalanced by the real young girl in the final shots, who still cared about Marcello and wondered if he had continued with his book. The Christ symbol at the beginning, an air-lifted statue, which was "beautiful" but unreal. The symbol at the end, a fish, which was "ugly" but real. The sweet life along the Via Veneto, which was all-absorbing at the time, but now is long, long ago, as are most of the people who lived it.
Because the movie has meant different things to me at different stages in my life, but has always meant something, and because it clearly did for Fellini too, I think I will always want to see it again. It won't grow stale, because I haven't finished changing.
Though many films cannot be ignored for their craft and artistic merit, they are often not my most favorite.
You're so right when you say that movies don't change but people do. We're very much shaped by our experiences that it often alters our views on our most favorite experiences.
You said that Citizen Kane is your favorite film. I also admire the movie for its craft and immense production, though I wouldn't say its my favorite in terms of viewing pleasure (which is the foremost reason how films should be graded--in my opinion). However, Kane is a triumph in so many ways.
I'd still have to say my favorite movie is "Dark City". Its just so wonderful. Haunting, scary, exciting and a bit silly. The entire ending of that film is close to perfection, its just beautiful to watch.
I'd have to say that Schindler's List is the best film I've ever seen (not my favorite movie, just the best film I've seen). In terms of direction and craft and what you see up there on the screen, its unrivaled and overwhelming. I mean, just look at what's up there on screen, try recreating THAT.
Barry Lyndon is the most fascinatingly boring film I've ever seen. You can't stand it for another minute and yet you can't take your eyes off the screen. That's Kubrick for you.
I could go on an on forever as you could. I've seen countless movies from all different countries. And yet it seems to me that many of them copy one another and are interchangable in some capacities. Very few touch the cornerstone of our memories, I'd still have to take "Back to the Future" and "Groundhog Day" over "La Stada", "Battleship Potemkin" and "Breathless" any day of the week.
Sir,
I am a amateur critic.about 400 films which i watched ,the films which make a very deep impact on me are ..
Citizen Kane,
Psycho,
Cries and Whispers,
Persona,
Talk to Her,
etc...
My favorite films which i could remember are..
Barry Lyndon(I wanna watch it atleast 100 times in my life).
Some Like it Hot,
etc..
Whenever I'm asked what my favorite movie is, which happens far less frequently to me than you, I always answer with The Shawshank Redemption. Like 95% of it's admirers, I didn't see it until home video, but it's stuck with me ever since.
When asked why, I truthfully say that it's because it's a perfect combination of skill and craft from the direction to the acting to the cinematography to the editing to the music and so on. In the wrong hands, it could have been a disaster, but the material found the perfect people.
Is The Shawshank Redemption a movie that I would want to see right away at every given moment of every day? No, but usually. For instance, right now, I want to go see The Dark Knight for the 4th time. Every time I've seen it, I've picked up more and more from it.
I really wish, Mr. Ebert, that you would stop moving me to tears at work. It's not professional. Maybe I'm just a cry-baby, but your words are always immensely eloquent and revelatory. Time and time again, your writing illuminates the truth, without nary a superfluous phrase to be found.
Roger, you have some good points. I think it's almost impossible to give one movie a greatest ever title because everyone has different opinions. 2001 Space Odyssey is my favorite film, is it the greatest ever? Maybe not to you, but to me it is. Therefore my favorite film is more relevant than the greatest film. Anyways, I still have the Awake in the dark book you signed for me in Toronto a year or 2 ago, you remember the question I asked you? I said Roger.. "tell me why you love films so much.." and you said.. "because film is life at 24 fps per second- taken from Renoir I think.." good times :D
If anyone would ask me right now what my favourite film is, I would say "24 Hour Party People". Tomorrow it might be "Inherit The Wind". Three days from now it could be "Sunset Blvd.". Yesterday it probably was "Out of Sight" or "Nosferatu", I can't remember.
I'm a graduating film student and a blossoming film critic in Eastern Europe and I get this question pretty often. Along with "what's worth seeing now?", to which the obligatory answer is, of course, "Citizen Kane".
Roger, I've so enjoyed reading your blog during the past few months. I have not previously felt compelled to comment, but the above review has guaranteed that I will see "La Dolce Vita" this weekend, and I can't wait to come back and reread your commentary after I've done so.
I am proud of my varied film knowledge, and ashamed that I have "overlooked" this title for so many years. I'll be sure to return with my impressions; I wonder how I will relate to this well-known film?
Best wishes in your continued recovery. I've gained much pleasure over the years from the wit, insight, and humanity in your reviews.
Perhaps a more quantifiable question would be -- Along with "Kane" & "Dolce", what is on the shortlist of films that you have seen that many times (let's say 15+)? Are there any films you dislike that you have seen that many times? Are there any that you are afraid to admit? Are there recent films that will assuredly make that list?
My most viewed list likely includes "Shawshank", "Casablanca", "Belle de jour", "Papillon", "The Birds", "Pulp Fiction", "Die Hard", "Eyes Wide Shut", "City Lights", "The Village", "The Graduate", "2001", Glengarry Glen Ross", "Titanic", American Beauty", "Braveheart", "Swingers", "Airplane!", "Butch Cassidy", "Rounders", "Midnight Express", "Goodfellas", "Fargo", "Boogie Nights", "Mulholland Dr" & "The Thin Red Line".
Thank you for giving me a new response to the eternal (and mind-numbing) question, "What is your favorite film?" As someone who is trying his best to begin a career in film criticism, I hear that question daily.
And as someone who is in love with many films, I am always torn with how to reply.
Do I respond Citizen Kane for it's technical importance, or do I answer Cries and Whispers for it's intense emotional resonance? Or, do I try throw out a left-field response like Solaris?
Well, now I will respond, "Let me tell you the film I would most like to see again right now." That will allow me to deviate from my list of "best movies ever," and move into more purely joyful fare like Sullivan's Travels, or even touching modern classics like Almost Famous.
Of course, I still love to talk about the brilliance of films like The 400 Blows and Grand Illusion, but thinking differently about the question "What is your favorite film?" will not only spice up the conversation, but will also remind me that there are many--always changing--answers to the question and not just "Citizen Kane."
Thank you for giving me a new response to the eternal (and mind-numbing) question, "What is your favorite film?" As someone who is trying his best to begin a career in film criticism, I hear that question daily.
And as someone who is in love with many films, I am always torn with how to reply.
Do I respond Citizen Kane for it's technical importance, or do I answer Cries and Whispers for it's intense emotional resonance? Or, do I try throw out a left-field response like Solaris?
Well, now I will respond, "Let me tell you the film I would most like to see again right now." That will allow me to deviate from my list of "best movies ever," and move into more purely joyful fare like Sullivan's Travels, or even touching modern classics like Almost Famous.
Of course, I still love to talk about the brilliance of films like The 400 Blows and Grand Illusion, but thinking differently about the question "What is your favorite film?" will not only spice up the conversation, but will also remind me that there are many--always changing--answers to the question and not just "Citizen Kane."
I confess I have not seen "La Dolce Vita", but after reading this recent post of yours, Mr. Ebert, I will be doing so as soon as I finish this comment and make my way to the video store!
I think I see your point about choosing a favortie film versus the most important film. Some think that the two are one and the same. Not too long ago, one of my classmates asked me what my all-time favorite movie was, and without hesitation, I responded, "The 1986 remake of Little Shop of Horrors." My classmate stared at me in disbelief for a moment, after which he scornfully responded, "Are you out of your mind? Don't you like real movies, like Citizen Kane?" I didn't get into it any further with him. Still, the damage had been done. I felt unfairly attacked. The fact is that movies, much like all art forms, are subjective, and while, like you, I can argue the importance of Citizen Kane until I'm blue in the face, I still can't claim it as my all-time favorite movie. No, Little Shop of Horrors is not an important movie in the traditional sense--it's not a complex character study or a probing analysis of the human condition. But blast it all, it's one of the most entertaining films I've ever seen. For me, it's the one film that doesn't grow old, perfectly embodying the best of comedy, horror, and musical theater, which are my three favorite genres because, in my opinion, they allow for the most creativity.
I recognize Kane as the best, but I think for me Hulk Hogan "Mr Nanny" is my current favorite. It was like the director was holding a mirror up to my life and I saw my very reflection.
I am now 30. I took a crooked road to filmmaking (my calling) and now I am almost there. For a long time I was struggling, thanks to the help of cynical friends, with the fact that there are so many movies, especially great ones, that I haven't seen yet.
After all there are just that many hours in a week and nowadays I can only spare just a few to enjoy a few movies and of course new ones always seems more attracting,enticing and alluring than old ones.
Of course I give in here and there and the reaction is always the same: a flabbegasting WOW!!!
WOW to Seven Samurais(at 23), WOW to Double Indemnity(at 28), WOW to Knight Moves(5 weeks ago) etc...
So over time I have come to the realization that a movie chooses when it wants to be viewed, when you ripe and ready for it.
There is a sixth sense somewhere within me than knows I've grown enough and that I am now ready to experience great work of art. I learned not to fight it and be patient, the reward will more than likely be worth it.
Philippe, Montreal
I would have to agree with you in saying that even the list of our own personal favorites seems futile, because our minds change constantly. I have often said that Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein is my favorite film of all time, because, eleven years later, I enjoy it as much as I did when I was eight years old. However, that can be said for the film serial The Masked Marvel, which I first saw on VHS at the same age and still love it. And being a budding student of film, I see new films almost everyday. The most recent one I have seen is De Sica's "Umberto D", which seems to be a great companion piece to "Bicycle Thieves". I love that film for the same reasons I love "Bicycle Thieves". So maybe that's my favorite movie. But then again, I also feel like watching "Animal House" or "Seven" or "The Big Lebowski" or "The Decalogue", so maybe one of those can be considered "my favorite film". I have so many favorites (many of them being added to my favorites every single day), so it's incredibly difficult for me to pin down my all time top 10 (let alone top 5 or even my all time favorite).
I am now 30. I took a crooked road to filmmaking (my calling) and now I am almost there. For a long time I was struggling, thanks to the help of cynical friends, with the fact that there are so many movies, especially great ones, that I haven't seen yet.
After all there are just that many hours in a week and nowadays I can only spare just a few to enjoy a few movies and of course new ones always seems more attracting,enticing and alluring than old ones.
Of course I give in here and there and the reaction is always the same: a flabbegasting WOW!!!
WOW to Seven Samurais(at 23), WOW to Double Indemnity(at 28), WOW to Knight Moves(5 weeks ago) etc...
So over time I have come to the realization that a movie chooses when it wants to be viewed, when you ripe and ready for it.
There is a sixth sense somewhere within me than knows I've grown enough and that I am now ready to experience great work of art. I learned not to fight it and be patient, the reward will more than likely be worth it.
Philippe, Montreal
well..... mr ebert one od my favorite movies is amadeous directed by milosh forman.it's music and acting is great.the others are all of chaplin's films,casablanca, some of fransua trrufeo(including 400 blows and stolen kisses), scorsese's films and so many other movies. right now i'am dying to watch a beautiful movie like taxi driver.
i translate this post......
have a good moments
I found your answer deeply profound. Often i am asked a similar question, and left with feelings similar to yours. I tend to answer with, "There are so many many good ones i've seen, and so many great ones i need to see." Interestingly for me (coming from a younger generation) the standard response is "Pulp Fiction." because sadly it seems more people have heard about Burger Royals than Rosebuds. I find people don't want an answer they've never heard of, the question seems to be less about the critic and more about the person asking them. As if hoping our favorite movie is the same as there's, thus making you an acceptable critic to listen to.
On the weekend i walked around the Tate Modern in London, and saw an original Francis Bacon and watched a surrealistic film, i can't remember it's name for the life of me though. As i stood and watched it's strange symbolisms refering to keys, knives, doors, and a women running upstairs i found myself wondering "how much of this films meaning is me? and how much of it is the film maker?" Of course that is the point of surrealism, for us to extract meaning and be moved in a direction the film maker intended. It made me desperatly want to plug in 8 1/2. I thought how beautifully Fellini pulls us in displaying his ideas and images ambiguously, but at no point losing meaningless. I wonder how much of Fellini's films is my interpretation and how much of it is what Fellini lays out for us? I suppose, it's what you said. It won't grow stale, because i haven't finished changing. It's wonderful that a man who could make a fillet of sole about himself, would actually be making it about us.
All this makes me chuckle because in the end Citizen Kane seems to be the best answer. Fellini's to personal and i don't think the question is particularly personal. Never the less, for what's it's worth i found the real answer significantly more interesting.
i believe that making the distinction between "the greatest movie of all time" and "favorite movie" is a crucial one. perhaps more important is what makes one so inclined to be able to watch a movie again and again, which, after reading your thoughts on the matter and reflecting upon my own experiences, seems to be how one relates to the theme or characters of a film. for instance, i love "2001: A Space Odyssey" and "Apocalypse Now," but i would much rather watch "Cool Hand Luke" or "Dazed and Confused" because i can or have related to the themes present in these films: individualism, passion, and a yearning for living in the moment. like you and many others, it is always a joy to revisit certain films and notice how one's reception of the films have changed throughout years and experiences one has had in between viewings. sure, i will always be amazed of the vision and direction of "2001" or the portrayal of evil in "Apocalypse Now," but i find that the films that are close to my heart are those that allow me to track my thoughts and emotions throughout the years and reminisce about the experiences that shaped them against the themes present within the movie itself.
I found your answer deeply profound. Often i am asked a similar question, and left with feelings similar to yours. I tend to answer with, "There are so many many good ones i've seen, and so many great ones i need to see." Interestingly for me (coming from a younger generation) the standard response is "Pulp Fiction." because sadly it seems more people have heard about Burger Royals than Rosebuds. I find people don't want an answer they've never heard of, the question seems to be less about the critic and more about the person asking them. As if hoping our favorite movie is the same as there's, thus making you an acceptable critic to listen to.
On the weekend i walked around the Tate Modern in London, and saw an original Francis Bacon and watched a surrealistic film, i can't remember it's name for the life of me though. As i stood and watched it's strange symbolisms refering to keys, knives, doors, and a women running upstairs i found myself wondering "how much of this films meaning is me? and how much of it is the film maker?" Of course that is the point of surrealism, for us to extract meaning and be moved in a direction the film maker intended. It made me desperatly want to plug in 8 1/2. I thought how beautifully Fellini pulls us in displaying his ideas and images ambiguously, but at no point losing meaningless. I wonder how much of Fellini's films is my interpretation and how much of it is what Fellini lays out for us? I suppose, it's what you said. It won't grow stale, because i haven't finished changing. It's wonderful that a man who could make a fillet of sole about himself, would actually be making it about us.
All this makes me chuckle because in the end Citizen Kane seems to be the best answer. Fellini's to personal and i don't think the question is particularly personal. Never the less, for what's it's worth i found the real answer significantly more interesting.
i believe that making the distinction between "the greatest movie of all time" and "favorite movie" is a crucial one. perhaps more important is what makes one so inclined to be able to watch a movie again and again, which, after reading your thoughts on the matter and reflecting upon my own experiences, seems to be how one relates to the theme or characters of a film. for instance, i love "2001: A Space Odyssey" and "Apocalypse Now," but i would much rather watch "Cool Hand Luke" or "Dazed and Confused" because i can or have related to the themes present in these films: individualism, passion, and a yearning for living in the moment. like you and many others, it is always a joy to revisit certain films and notice how one's reception of the films have changed throughout years and experiences one has had in between viewings. sure, i will always be amazed of the vision and direction of "2001" or the portrayal of evil in "Apocalypse Now," but i find that the films that are close to my heart are those that allow me to track my thoughts and emotions throughout the years and reminisce about the experiences that shaped them against the themes present within the movie itself.
Mr. Ebert,
You are lucky to have found such a great companion in La Dolce Vita. After reading what you wrote, it took me five minutes to realize that I don't have that kind of a relationship with a movie yet. I hope to find that soul mate one day. If you ask me what I want to watch right this moment, I'd say Across the Universe or A Hard Day's Night, because it's raining in Urbana. But I don't believe what these movies mean for me will change as I get through life. They will stay the same, cheering me up.
When I was a freshman in college, I walked into a college screening of "La Dolce Vita". In a room that could hold maybe 200 students, there were about 10 people there. I had heard about the film and was interested in seeing how I would like a "foreign movie". I walked out after about 20 minutes, I just didn't get it.... Remaining in the room were about 4 students.
However, after college, I started to watch more foreign films. First Kieslowski's "Three colors trilogy" then Varda's "cleo from 5 to 7" then many of Eric Rohmer's films .....and something finally clicked. and it was profound...I have since then seen at least over 500 foreign films..some good ...some bad...I've not revisited "La Dolce Vita" since my college days and feel I should do so based on your blog. I loved fellini's "Amarcord"....but am still struggling with "8-1/2"...
I also recall walking out on David Lean's "Brief Encounter" when I was younger because it was boring. I recently saw it again on television and found it "Amazing"...I hope this happens when I re-watch "La Dolce Vita".
I don't know if maturity sets in after years of watching movies...When you're only familiar with hollywood productions... there is this initial shock (usually boredom) when you watch something different.... then you discover one or two movies that really, really touch you for one reason or other... and afterwards, the act of watching movies is never the same again.
How do you feel about the question, "what movie have you been thinking about the most lately?" For me, this question is more relevant than "what's your favorite movie", as it opens the door to my current emotional, cultural, and intellectual state of being. It has never failed to be the impetus to an engaging discussion among my family and friends. The answer is also open to the flow of time, as a recent blockbuster or a beloved classic or a forgotten gem may be the focus of my current obsession. Whether the complete work is a triumph or a failure, it also allows me to focus on aspects (performances, camera shots, scenes, etc.) of a film that continue to resonate with me. So, if you ask me today, what's your favorite film, I might answer "Not sure, but I was thinking about The Last Picture Show lately, and...." And If you asked me the same question yesterday, I would have answered, "Not sure, but I've been thinking about James Caan in Comes a Horseman..."
Roger, you've opened Pandora's Box again with this blog entry. Because another of my 1,000 or so most oft-asked (and least-answered) questions of movie-folk is "what exactly is the difference between 'The Greatest' and 'Your Favorite' when it comes to anything?" - in this case, movies.
I may have been born minus a particular lobe in my brain, or maybe I missed that week of primary school, but I cannot wrap whatever mind I do have around this notion that one can be objective about art, a subject for which utterly personal reaction is, to me, all-important.
In other words, how could I say, oh, '2001' is the greatest film ever made, but 'American Graffiti' is my favorite? Isn't that a little disingenuous? I know it's the riddle at the heart of all criticism, this idea of saintly critical objectivity, but I don't buy it. For me, The Greatest Film is also gonna be my favorite, because I'm allowed to decide, and because any other kind of decision (i.e., "Man, I never wanna see Andrei Rublev again, but it sure is the greatest movie ever made!") would seem do be a concession to some sort of cold-thinking uber-mind that exists outside of personal passions (i.e., "Kane is the Greatest Film ever because it is, and because it has ended up so democratically")... but taking personal passion away also strips away anything I would find interesting about someone else's opinion of a film.
Take 'KANE' for instance: I love it, I've seen it probably ten times (and at least once with your commentary, Roger), I think it's an endlessly inventive and entertaining picture. And technically, it's a marvel. But it doesn't really touch my heart in any way. Coming to 'Kane' in this modern age, after Sight & Sound has repeatedly lionized it above all others, is like coming across a dead beast on the savannah that has been picked totally clean of meat and gristle and even the sketchy stuff under the nose or near the sluices at both ends. It's impossible for me, unfortunately, to find much of a personal connection to KANE, because everyone before me has already seen the film and discussed it every-which way. (I must admit, my only real original - as far as I know - observation on KANE is a slightly negative one; Welles plays the role with a huge amount of smugness, especially 'old Kane'... To an audience today, this is neither here not there,for they have no real reference point for the generation he was skewering, but to an audience at the time, his smug, kabuki-sized deconstruction of the previous generation may not have been seen as particularly nuanced in the early 40s, and the same kind of treatment of my parents generation would be suitably hammered today - right or wrong)
So, yeah, KANE would be on my list of top maybe 200 films of all time (shame! horror! i know!), but if you ask what my favorite film is, it would be something far more personal, like E.T., or THE GRADUATE, or THE APARTMENT, or TERMS OF ENDEARMENT or Scorsese's AGE OF INNOCENCE or AMERICAN GRAFFITI or my current choice, mentioned earlier, Kubrick's 2001.
All of those films, at one time, held the #1 slot on my list. I loved them (still do) like parts of my own body, or my family, with a deep and unsullied chunk of heart inside me. But there's nothing objective about, nothing cold, impersonal, historical. I genuinely think, currently, that there has never been a more effective use of the medium than 2001, and that if both films came out the same day (an impossibility in many ways, of course), Kubrick's film would be at the top of that list today. Even considering Kubrick had KANE to stand on, I still say 2001 makes movies seem like the most important invention of humankind.
But if I only thought that intellectually, and didn't feel it in my soul, it wouldn't get to the top of my list. I am enraptured by 2001. Mini-orgasms fire off within me throughout the entire 139 minutes, and I evaporate into a kind of joyful mist after the star-child turns to look at me and then the Blue Danube picks up again.
I guess my point is that if someone out there decides to not like CITIZEN KANE, it's okay (unless your
reason for dismissal is that it's 'old', in which case off with your head...)... that The Greatest should be something we should feel, not 'decide upon'... and the reason KANE gets the #1 spot is because the most people vote for it, right, not because the most people put it number 1.
Unrelated side note: I went my whole life not liking THE WIZARD OF OZ, hoping to find SOMEONE who felt similarly unswayed by the film's condescension towards its presumed mush-minded childhood audience. But then I found someone. Thank you, Mr. Kubrick!
I can't even imagine entertaining those questions as a film critic. As someone who is known, to everyone I know, as someone who really loves movies, it's hard enough.
Generally, I try to keep a list of ten movies in my head, so that I don't have to play games with anyone who asks. I can just rattle off ten titles, and then say, "but this can change often". I've chosen this route, because naming one movie is absurd. It almost seems as cruel as asking a mother or father what child is their favorite. And is it really fair, or meaningful, to try to rank "E.T." against "The Passion of Joan of Arc" against "Five Easy Pieces" against "Black Narcissus"? Each of those films is unique, and very personal to me. Why even bother trying to say which one is better than the other. The only thing that mattes is that they are all in the same league.
I've always been a bit flummoxed by the favorite book/movie/album question. It implies the words 'better' or 'best' when most often, 'different' is how I feel about , say, Apocalypse Now vs. This Is Spinal Tap vs. Crumb vs. The General.
"La Dolce Vita" is a great film and I thought the Trevi Fountain scene perfectly evoked as Jim Emerson once said, "The joy of being alive". But I am still puzzled at to why so many of my friends and film fans in general prefer "8 1/2". While technically brilliant, I wouild take "La Dolce Vita" or "Amarcord" over "8 1/2" any day of the week.
I think you've hit on something in this essay that applies not just to movies, but to life in general. Part of the joy of being human is that moment of contact with a work of art, a piece of music, a book, or a even a friendship at moment that perfectly coincides with where we are on our journey. That mysterious union has even more significance as we become aware of its arbitrary nature. These connections always stand as a measuring rods for who we are and where we're going.
One of my measuring rods is historical works on Dr. Martin Luther King and the Civil Rights Movement. At every juncture in my life I've come across some portrait by a different author that showed a facet of his life that means something to me at the place I'm at. As a child who felt like an outcast it was a biography written for elementary school students. As a high school student trying deal with conflicting political pressures it was sections on the Civil Rights Movement in Robert A. Caro's "Master of the Senate" showing how conservatism and bigotry held back basic decency. As a college student dealing with guilt over personal short comings it was Michael Eric Dyson's "I May Not Get There With You" dealing with Dr. King's marital infidelities and plagiarism. Every time I've been at a new place, with the help of different biographers, there has been a new Dr. King waiting for me: inspiring, challenging, and offering solace.
As always, thank you for your insightful posts, your writing is always a pleasure to read.
My favorite movie is Sunset Boulevard. Oh how much I adore this movie. I just simply melt every time I watch it. It testifies to the sheer power of cinema... thanks for your article Roger.
An excellent choice for a favorite film, but I was surprised by your discussion of the spiritual aspects of La Dolce Vita. You analyzed the film for a convention of nuns? What did they think? The Pope has approved of such a Bacchanalian film full of decadent party scenes, a lustful tryst in a flooded apartment, and all of the false idols of empty (but fun) celebrity-worship? I always wondered if Fellini placed the two big (but also ironic) symbols of Christianity at the beginning and end of the film to somehow absolve himself for dreaming up all of the wicked behavior in between.
I enjoy reading these blogs probably as much as your reviews. Always informative and extremely interesting, and I really appreciate the distinction being made between what is regarded as "the greatest" and one's personal favorite. I have to be honest, though, Mr. Ebert; it broke my heart a little not seeing Woody Allen's name in your list of directors. But I guess I can take comfort in knowing that you've remained one of his most steadfast supporters throughout the years.
Again, excellent blog. Your passion for the movies is both inspiring and contagious.
The film that I call my favorite is Schindler's List. This film is the first that had an enormous emotional effect on me as a whole but one particular scene effected the way I have viewed humanity ever since. It is the scene where the wealthy Jewish couple are being forced from their home by the Gestapo while tens of thousands of Jewish refugees file past the couple's house and into the ghetto. While the couple is in the house they look wealthy and different from the faceless refugees walking past their house but when it comes time for them to leave thier home they walk down their steps and into the refugees. I tried to pick out the couple from the mob and suddenly I couldn't. But the movie does something wonderful here, instead of the couple becoming part of the mob, for me the mob became made up of individuals. The movie had told the story of all those individual people and the enormity of the tragity hit home. There has not been another movie that I have seen that has moved me like that movie and that scene.
Mr. Ebert, this is among the most heartfelt writing the movies I've read about in quite a long time. I cannot help but agree with you about Mastroianni and Fellini; what a perfect combination. Repeated, of course, in "8 1/2." Sometimes I prefer that film, sometimes I prefer "La Dolce Vita." Sometimes, actually, "Nights of Cabiria." Fellini was a god.
(I can't answer the question of "what's my favorite movie", either, I just usually say the last one I saw. Although that's not entirely accurate, because I've seen some crappy movies in my day.)
I feel the same way about movie lists. At one point, I tried to create a definitive list, but I found it would always change. There's a whole gaggle of Top 10 lists at wwww.sensesofcinema.com, where they collect many opinions and each one is different. It's actually fascinating to go through the lists because each one is so unique and varied.
From what I gather, your passion for "La Dolce Vita" stems from emotional connection. I personally find a similar connection in Before Sunrise/Sunset, Waking Life, and Koyaanisqatsi.
Besides the fact that each of these four films have basically no plot (this is perhaps less true for Sunrise/Sunset), what they also share is an examination and study of humanity. I think that when a movie tells you more about yourself than you could have figured out alone, then you'll never forget it.
Some movies are lessons, like "Requiem for a Dream," and other movies are simply good stories, like "L.A. Confidential," but the best, the "Top 10" are the ones that are really about you and me and all of us.
One unrelated question: Have you ever met and been near Stanley Kubrick and if so, what do you remember of him?
Roger, this is an intruiging subject to me. My best friend vehemently disagrees with my notion that "favorite films" and "best films" are the same thing, but I don't see how they can be different. After all, why would a movie be my favorite if I believed it inferior to another movie? The answer to both of your questions for me is Coppola's "The Godfather". I believe it to be the best movie ever made, and it is the one I would most want to watch right now.
I remember on your commentary for "Casablanca" you said that people often ask you what the greatest movie ever made is and you always say "Citizen Kane", but when asked for your favorite movie you say "Casablanca". I agree that "Kane" is the more influential and historically most important movie, but if you believe "Casablanca" or "La Dolce Vita" or "The Godfather" or whatever to be a better movie, then isn't the logical answer not "Kane"?
I agree that making a list of favorite films is futile; I can't even decide what film belongs at the top.
Is it "It's a Wonderful Life," because it makes me cry every time, and because the characters are so well-drawn you feel as if you know them?
Is it "Magnolia," for the sheer audacity in every frame, the virtuoso performances, and that unbelievable moment where everyone bursts into song?
Is it "Close Encounters of the Third Kind," for John Williams' musical conversation, Richard Dreyfuss' childlike face, and that shot of the fingers pointing to the heavens?
Usually, I decide on "Amadeus," mostly because it encapsulates everything that makes a movie great. The acting, script, production, all top notch. It features personal and political drama, and plenty of big laughs. And then there's that music ...
I have also struggled with naming a particular movie as my favorite. I've tried before to make a list of my favorite movies, but that was when I was a lot younger. Looking back, they seem very childish. I tried more recently to make a top 10 list in alphabetical order, then expanded it to 25 and still there were movies I wanted to fit in.
It is always changing. It will usually have to do with how recently I've seen a movie. I have a shorter mental list with movies that I would consider for my favorite film, movies like "The Godfather", "Bridge on the River Kwai" and "Seven Samurai". "Seven Samurai" might be my favorite of those. I could watch it right now even though it's 4 hours, wouldn't be finsihed till 1 am and I have to go to school tomorrow.
Officially, with my friends, my favorite movie is "Lord of the Rings", particularly "Fellowship of the Ring". Since I consider myself to be a huge LOTR nerd, that's my default answer to the favorite movie question. I know that you weren't the biggest fan of it, in fact, I remember being really upset when I was probably 10 and read an answer man column where you said something like, "Take my word for it, Lord of the Rings is not the greatest movie of all time."
Of course, I see your point now, but that doesn't stop it from being my favorite movie. A lot of it has to do with the experience of seeing it for the first time. I saw it in the theater when I was 9 years old, on opening night, 2 weeks after finishing the book. I remember lots of little details, like waiting outside in line in the cold December weather. I also remember that it was, and has been to this day, the greatest movie experience of my life.
That, too, I could see again right now.
But, recently, I've been having an internal debate about whether or not "The Dark Knight" has dethroned it. But that doesn't really matter. I love both of them. (I could see Dark Knight again, right now, too.)
But there are other movies. "Rushmore" (another movie that I don't think you were that big a fan of) is a movie that I love, perhaps because I saw it at the right time and still identify with it. The same with "Juno". Although I certainly haven't lived long enough to compare with your feelings of "La Dolce Vita", my feelings about the characters and who I identify with have changed.
That could be another thing, that 16 years is not nearly enough time to have seen enough movies. I've got a whole list of movies that I need to see.
But I don't think any movie will make me change how I feel about Lord of the Rings. There are more perfect movies out there, and Lord of the Rings may not be perfect, but does not mean that it can't be my favorite? Every time I see it, I get such a feeling of joy and the love of cinema, even though I've never gone through that situation (who has?), maybe it doesn't deal with contemporary issues, maybe the hobbits are kinda sidelined, maybe it is flawed, but I don't care. Do our favorite movies have to be perfect?
Great discussion, Roger. I find it similarly difficult and painful to pin down a choice for favorite movie (or even worse "best" movie) whenever I am asked. In order to give an answer, I usually have to qualify the question - fave new movie I've seen in the theater in the past 18 months - or fave non-genre Asian movie of the past decade.
I think you hit the nail on the head when you talked about how La Dolca Vita meant something to you at different times in your life and continues to resonate. For me - the truly great movies (which are usually synonymous with the films I truly love) - are the ones that last - like old gfs that I continue to have strong feelings about even decades later. For me, Vertigo has played that role. At first, it affected me despite my lack of maturity or understanding of women or sexuality when I saw it as a child. Then, it became almost an eerie commentary on my own obsessive nature as I grew into adulthood. Now, I simply see it as a beautifully, hallucinatory reflection on love, sexuality, time, and cinema. I try and see it whenever it is projected on a big screen. The last time I was lucky enough to see a screening at the Egyptian Theater in Hollywood as part of the American Cinematheque's series & the film's production designer, Henry Bumstead was in attendance to talk about the film. Bumstead was 90 or so at the time and unfortunately, he died shortly afterwards.
I wonder if you've radically changed your mind about a film in either direction - from loving it to not caring so much for it - or initially dismissing a film to realizing how extraordinary it is much later. I can think of two examples from Stanley Kubrick which fit the description in both categories. As an adolescent, I was fixated with A Clockwork Orange and would watch it repeatedly. I idolized Alex & Malcolm McDowell & thought that Kubrick's ironic/stylish approach was the perfect expression of my own worldview. Today, I really can't even watch the movie. I find it cold and overly calculated - almost inert. I can appreciate McDowell's great performance and Kubrick's brio to some degree - but honestly, I think it's one of his lesser works in the greater scheme of things. In contrast, I initially dismissed Barry Lyndon as "boring" - mainly because I was baffled by it. I watched it as a teen expecting the same kind of cynical style of A Clockwork Orange. Years later, I saw Scorsese's wonderful documentary about American Film : A Personal Journey where he singled out a clip from Barry Lyndon. The amazing thing about that documentary is that Scorese allowed us to see films with the same meticulous, passionate eyes that he has as a film goer - and I realized that I really hadn't seen Barry Lyndon at all. So I re-watched it several times on video and DVD. Recently, I saw a beautifully restored print shown at the Walter Reade Theater in Lincoln Center & I was brought to tears by its visual beauty and melancholy poetry. I'd now rank Barry Lyndon at the top of Kubrick's achievements (right there with 2001 & Dr Strangelove) and I can absolutely see why Scorsese is obsessed with the movie as well. It's utterly original and unique in the film canon in its organic approach to period detail. I'm curious to hear what films you were either "wrong" about the first time or that you decided later weren't nearly as special as you might have the first go around.
I would be very hard-pressed to name one movie that's my favorite. I've started a "Greatest Movies" thing on my website recently and have such films M and Ace in the Hole (both of which I doubt I would've heard of had it not been for your Great Movies essays), and I consider those both favorites. But I also like Casablanca, Star Wars, and Singing in the Rain. I can't really answer what movie is my favorite, cause I have to ask, "What kind of movie?"
If we're talking musicals, The Sound of Music. Epics? Lawrence of Arabia. Mysteries? The Maltese Falcon. It goes on.
As far as most important films go, I couldn't even begin to say. I'm really just starting out in my whole "film appreciating" thing. Citizen Kane is leading the pack so far, but I haven't seen any of Welles' other movies (well, except the Transformers animated film, which doesn't count). I also haven't seen Rules of the Game or La Dolce Vita yet. I will soon though.
But you know what? Great films or minor, classic or contemporary, important or inconsquential, none of that matters to me, not really. What really matters, when you get down to it, is that the films must be good. It's fun to debate great films, but it's at least as muc fun to watch them.
"The Verdict" is my favorite movie of all time. Directed by Sidney Lumet, written by David Mamet, and starring Paul Newman, it's simply a flawless work of art. The themes in it are profound, the dialogue is sharp, and the scenes are beautifully shot. It's also, probably, Newman's greatest performance.
But what makes this movie stand out is that it lacks both special effects and a musical score. Even the opening credits are devoid of a theme song; the only noise we hear over the titles is the bing-bing-bing of a pinball machine played by a weary Newman.
Lumet is a masterful director, demonstrating here that he can make a great film with just the basics -- a good script and a handful of fine actors. It's stripped down, even clean, like a filmic equivalent of Hemingway's prose. "The Verdict" is now over twenty-five years old, and the cars and clothing in it are obviously out of fashion. But the film's plainness -- its lack of gimmickry and pop music -- prevents it from becoming dated. It's as fresh and as powerful now as when it first came out.
I love this movie and watch it at least once year, enthralled always by its complex view of the world. I guess maybe I agree with Lumet and Mamet -- basically, we are surrounded by ugliness and corruption, but there are a few good people out there and sometimes they have the opportunity to make things right.
Somehow, I take comfort in this message, even though it's more cynical than uplifting.
It seems that the best films are either groundbreaking, haunting, or both. Admittedly, I have not seen Citizen Kane nor La Dolce Vita (they have just made my "to see" list, much in gratitude to your recommendation!), but I do understand your sentiment about how a particular movie always mean something, regardless of time.
I grew up in the era of the 1989-1999 Disney Renaissance, when Howard Ashman exploded onto the animated scene with "The Little Mermaid" and "Beauty and the Beast" respectively: as a child, I felt a visceral sense that his films were the Disney films, and that the following projects were good, but not spectacular, compared to the '89 and '90 predecessors; years later, after I'd gotten over the "Disney films are stupid musicals for kids" phase, I began listening to the soundtracks of Ashman, and realized how groundbreaking and haunting his work had been. With "The Little Mermaid," he broke decades of mediocre animation productions with enjoyable song and romp; with "Beauty and the Beast," he created a touching tale of song that - and I paraphrase from your review - focused on the humanization of the Beast and demonization of Gaston. Respectively, Ashman and his production team reestablished what worked for both children and adults - enjoyable and smart films, animated.
Of course, I'm not putting "Mermaid" or "Beast" on par with "Kane" or "La Dolce," but in a sense I feel that the best films continuously resonates with our deepest and most personal sentiments at any given time: we always come back to them because our feelings, thoughts, and environment change, and we yearn to see what forthcoming meaning echoes from something we are familiar, yet still intrigued, with.
Another great entry, Roger, but I think a little more needs to be said about the difference (if there is one) between great movies and favorite movies. One of the greatest films of all time, and one of my favorites, is "2001: A Space Odyssey." But what about a movie like "Super Troopers?" Although "2001" and a myriad of other great films dwarfs Broken Lizard's comedic joyride, I've seen "Super Troopers" just as many times, if not more, than "2001." Come to think of it, yes, I've seen it a lot more. A good friend of mine told me of a good friend of his who has exquisite taste in music but will only listen to the great albums a couple of times a year, to prevent their value from spoiling due to over-listening (I believe economists refer to this as diminishing marginal utility). I treat "2001" and other great films in the same way. But, I watch movies like "Super Troopers" dozens of times, and they never spoil! In your review of another Broken Lizard film, "Club Dread," you said: "I gave 'Super Troopers' two and a half stars, too, but I'd rather see it again than certain distinguished movies I could mention." I think you're really onto something here! Who wants to sit down three times a week to watch "Taxi Driver?" I certainly don't, but I'll be first to admit that I've watched "The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou" twice this week (another two and a half stars review from you), and if it doesn't stop raining, I'll probably watch it again tonight!
If a movie can move me to watch it again and again and again, is it great in a way that is different than "La Dolce Vita" but the same as, say, "Speed?"
Favorites: When I was a teen... it was a toss up between Dudes and O.C. & Stiggs... in my 20's it was Kicking and Screaming (the Noah Baumbach film.... not the other one with the same title)... Blade Runner, Die Hard, and Shawshank Redemption (which I was lucky enough to see on the big screen) were all films that I would tell people were my favorites... sure not all of them are great, in fact almost all of these are what I like to think of as flawed masterworks... but as I get older (currently in my mid-30's) I find it harder and harder to pin down a favorite, sure I think The Big Lebowski is amazing, and I can't think of a better film than Dr. Strangelove.... until of course I watch Fail Safe, and then there is Paths to Glory, The Killing, The Royal Tenenbaums, The American Astronaut, and a little gem called CQ, and on and on and on... oh and I have to mention the 7 UP series of films... but I think the conclusion isn't what's the best, or even my favorite, really how do you say that a comedy (Duck Soup, or It's a Mad Mad Mad world anyone) is better than say Sling Blade, when they both seek to engage you, but one with laughter and the other through horror? I find myself telling people, I don't have a favorite, I have a group of films that I simply enjoy, admire, and think are wroth my time....
Like actors who toil for many years until they suddenly reach a level of maturity and blossom in front of our eyes (Anthony Hopkins for example--whose work in film had, for a time, a remarkable luminous clarity and truth), your bloggings have become the epitome of your work as a writer. I don't mean to belittle your film criticism--I hold it in the highest esteem because you're smart, you "get it," and you can write about it.
But you've entered a new level as a writer, one which I hope your health allows you to continue for many years. The humanity of it is stunning.
All of that said, and with all of the fine cinema I've watched over half a century, my favorite film is not in any way a great film. I'm embarrassed to admit what it is, though remarkably enough I share it with one of the previous posters: Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein.
What could it be about such a corn-fried pile of hooey that makes it mean so much even on its 75th (who knows?) viewing? It's silly and stupid, but there's some "thing" about it that has buried it deep in both my subconscious and my heart. I recognize it for what it is, both in and of itself and in its part in the history of Universal Horror films.
And I can certainly recognize that Citizen Kane, Rules of the Game, Wages of Fear, 400 Blows, and so on--the list is too numerous to even conceive--these are all greater films in every sense of the word. All are more profound--and is there any series of films more deeply profound, that present such naked truths about childhood, humanity, and heartbreak--than Michael Apted's "UP" series?
And I've watched all of these many times as well. Yet nothing provides me with the sheer comfort and delight of Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. It's the cinematic version of my mother's Pot Roast. It is, truly, a "comfort" film.
Should I be ashamed? Probably not. Each person's comfort is another's torture. But tonight, Roger, I will watch La Dolce Vita and think of how it has affected so many different points in your life, and how the many different points in your life have affected your viewing of it.
Then tomorrow I will begin watching all of Apted's "Up" films again. I find that my view of them has evolved greatly as my daughter approaches the magic age of 7. And my view of them will, I think, find many revisions over time as she hits each 7 year mark. There's so much truth in the films, I'm almost afraid of what a future of re-watching them may hold. This, I think, may be the ultimate definition of their greatness.
I love that you make a distinction between "Best" and "Favorite" even though both are ultimately meaningless, it is good for people to understand. I would agree that "Citizen Kane" is the best film ever, but it is not my favorite (though I love watching it, and cannot conceive of finding it boring). The title of "Favorite" goes to "Amelie" directed by Jean-Pierre Jeunet. It is my favorite for many reasons that Kane is "Best": Great cinematography, acting, and even though this is a less definable attribute, a feeling of total joy in the act of creation that come through in every scene. But most of all it is my favorite because it "[holds] as 'twere a mirror" to my experience of being human. I don't want to sound like a superior know-it-all, because I am not the worlds biggest film expert, but this is something my casual moviegoer friends don't understand about my love of film, that it is something personal and profound and meaningful, and not just entertainment.
The question "What is your favorite movie?" tells you a lot more about a person than "What do you think is the greatest film of all time?". The qualifier of "What movie would you want to watch right now?" makes the answer even more enlightening.
Thinking about that question right now, my answer would be a few. "Out of the Past", "Withnail & I', "Cool Hand Luke" or "Rushmore" come to mind. There are recent films like "There will be Blood" and "Into the Wild" that I have already re watched more than once, but I'm not sure if I will still feel the same about those movies in years to come.
My answers might have been different 5 years ago, and would probably be different 5 years from now, but those answers probably wouldn't change your impression of me.
Thanks for all the great writing Roger. I would also like to humbly suggest "Withnail & I" for a GM essay. I've read you original 4 star review, interested what you think 20 years later.
I haven't found a movie that mirrors my life (I'm only 19, so what do you expect?), but I know what you mean when you talk about movies that always, no matter what the circumstances, mean something. For me, that movie is Dreyer's "The Passion of Joan of Arc." When I first saw it more than two years, I was blown away. I had always thought that silent movies were static and over-the-top, but here was a movie as alive and energetic as anything I'd ever see -- or likely will ever see -- full of impressive camerawork and brilliant performances.
Since then, I've watched the movie over and over and over again (probably ten times in all) in a variety of moods -- happy, sad, doubtful, grieving, hopeful -- and each time, I've taken away something different. Different, and too powerful for words.
I feel as if 'La Dolce Vita' actually has the power to make you grow up faster. From my very first viewing, I was afraid I'd end up like Marcello. He looked so desperate and sad calling out on that beach, looking for a life of innocence that he can only vaguely remember. I saw this movie as a warning. Today I see a life that I've tasted and could easily continue to feed on, but I'd be lying to myself that I would learn from Marcello's mistakes. You are right, Roger, there is no safety net that pulls you up from down. We have to climb out of the quicksand before our mouths are filled up. The 'sweet life' is selfish and without reward, not unlike Aguirre's never-ending trek to El Dorado. What's scary is that the danger of Marcello-caliber selfishness is very real when life feels, well, ordinary. The promise of greatness or happiness can be blinding at times, leading hearts astray from what really matters (for me, its my family). Its difficult for me not to give in and disregard what's left of my morals when nearly everyone I know is only in it for themselves. But that is why this movie is so powerful- the vices ARE that attractive and easily accessible in reality.
Some people encourage me to do what I want to be happy- no matter who gets hurt along the way. I can't do that anymore- I'd be living in the gutter again. I'm sure Marcello didn't intend to fall asleep in the gutter, but sometimes thats just the most comfortable place.
Questions like asking "what's your favorite movie" remind me of questions like "what's your favorite food" or "what's your favorite animal"? If you love the nature behind the art, in this case film, then it'll become even more difficult to ascribe to a notion that you can have a possible "favorite". Certainly its easier to have "favorites" relative to temporary fashions on what appeals to us most at a certain point in time... But naturally we change so it is inevitable our favorites change as well.
For an avid film-goer to choose a favorite movie it's probably the next worst thing to actually being the creator and having to decide which personal work is his / her favorite. The process of film-making recycles back and forth from the audience and the filmmakers.
Every film has its moment of beauty and awe that transcends its worth and it is with that attitude that helps me keep an open mind to the art which I love so much.
Snippets of Favorite moments from films I've seen over the years:
- The ship horn blows and Christian Bale, veering fresh off his course from turning out like Patrick Bateman despite earning the trauma to do so, runs off towards the sound of the boat, down the street and off to explore and understand the nature of criminality. (Coming-of-age moment)
- Daniel Radcliffe teaches his peers how to do magic and thanks to the clever editing, music, writing, and direction of David Yates's film, we see his performance hold its own against the intimidating power of Imelda Staunton. A waltz between good teaching and bad teaching; compassion and oppression...
- Camera holds on Elijah Wood's anime-esque eyes racing the message of good with the temptation of evil in his hands (the One Ring) into Viggo Mortensen's eyes. And then wins when we see a close up of Mortensen's hands close over Elijah's.
- "ELAINE!!! ELAINE!!!" Dustin Hoffman screaming from the Church window in the much-anticipated climax of his sense of certainty.
- The Ocean swallowing Holly Hunter's instrument and best friend, pulling her down with it, but she struggles against it and reaches towards the surface, for life...
- Robert DeNiro creating the youth of a younger man's performance (at the time) with his role as Vito Corleone.
- DeNiro, Pesci, and Ray Liotta beating a guy to death to the song "Atlantis"; People come up with the strangest ways of spending quality time together.
- Daniel Day-Lewis running to his son in a picturesque wide shot... The pipeline of his ambitions following the same path.
- Wes Bentley searching with his camcorder past a physically obnoxious Mena Suvari in order to search out a more innocent and withheld beauty in Thora Birch...
- Adam Sandler holding his own via telephone with the Great Capote in his most colorful verbal array of language.
And so much more...
Dear Mr. Ebert,
The minute I read the title of this blog entry, La Dolce Vita came to mind. It was my first experience with film as a transcendent experience. I watched in my youth, and thought I would leave lusting for the sweet life, thought I would leave with smouldering dreams of Anita. But the film reached out and grabbed me, caught me by the soul, turned me about and left me aching and with a sense of loss and a longing for that which I could not even put into words.
If I were to ask my father, God rest his soul, he would tell me Bad Day At Black Rock. And durn if I wouldn't be more than happy to sit down any day of the week and watch Spencer Tracy, Walter Brennan, Dean Jagger, Robert Ryan and the rest of the cast replay that taut, economic little thriller.
Favorite movies? I tend to look first to acting and directing in film, and the following feature some of my favorite performances and directing work. I have a couple which fit oddly together -- "Tootsie" (1982 -- Sydney Pollack), with bravura acting from the entire cast and one of the funniest screenplays ever; "A Christmas Story" (1983 -- Bob Clark), a charming comedy with a genuinely fond, and non-cynical, remembrance of childhood, and featuring one of my favorite actors (Darren McGavin); "Chinatown" (1974 -- Roman Polanski), a genre picture that transcends its genre, with a magnificent Jack Nicholson performance; "The Spy Who Came In from the Cold" (1965 -- Martin Ritt), superbly realistic Cold War film with the definitive Richard Burton performance; and, perhaps the least recognized, "The Offence" (1973 -- Sidney Lumet), a sharp, imaginatively directed film with brutal (and brilliant) performances by Sean Connery, Ian Bannen, and Vivien Merchant. And I could easily think of another ten that could be switched out with these!
My favorite film of all time is Fellini's 81/2, which proudly and immediately usurped the throne long-occupied by the cliched choice of Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey. I knew it as soon as the rope around Guido's ankle let out slack and he fell to the ground. Why is it my favorite movie? I have a connection to it not unlike Ebert's to La Dolce Vita. As a once-religious person struggling with a loss of faith, as a struggling artist whose ambition far outweighs his talent, I feel as though I understand the way Guido escapes into his imagination, and the way he tries, unsuccessful, to transmit the thoughts and images in his head to his medium.
Forget the brilliant writing, direction, cinematography, acting, and score, and you'll still be left with a movie about, frankly, everything worth making a movie about. This film is a brilliant rumination on sex, religion, art, intellect, and human nature. It's a social satire, examining the film industry, Italian and Catholic practices and philosophy, and the relationship between men and women with an acute eye and a sharp tongue. It also boasts a seamless execution of the self-referential style that many of my favorite directors since have stolen. If any of my work ever becomes worth a damn, I'll proudly admit to stealing it as well.
All in all, I could write a novel on the intellectual statements made by this film, as well as the technical expertise it showcases. But simply put, if I knew I was going to die in three hours, I'd probably sit back and pop in my copy of 81/2.
My favorite film of all time is Fellini's 81/2, which proudly and immediately usurped the throne long-occupied by the cliched choice of Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey. I knew it as soon as the rope around Guido's ankle let out slack and he fell to the ground. Why is it my favorite movie? I have a connection to it not unlike Ebert's to La Dolce Vita. As a once-religious person struggling with a loss of faith, as a struggling artist whose ambition far outweighs his talent, I feel as though I understand the way Guido escapes into his imagination, and the way he tries, unsuccessful, to transmit the thoughts and images in his head to his medium.
Forget the brilliant writing, direction, cinematography, acting, and score, and you'll still be left with a movie about, frankly, everything worth making a movie about. This film is a brilliant rumination on sex, religion, art, intellect, and human nature. It's a social satire, examining the film industry, Italian and Catholic practices and philosophy, and the relationship between men and women with an acute eye and a sharp tongue. It also boasts a seamless execution of the self-referential style that many of my favorite directors since have stolen. If any of my work ever becomes worth a damn, I'll proudly admit to stealing it as well.
All in all, I could write a novel on the intellectual statements made by this film, as well as the technical expertise it showcases. But simply put, if I knew I was going to die in three hours, I'd probably sit back and pop in my copy of 81/2.
The favorite movie question got awkward with the release of Dekalog. It's my favorite, but is it a movie or a series of films? If the latter, then "Maltese Falcon" is my favorite, although "Young Frankenstein" is one that I never get tired of.
Mr. Ebert,
I'm a freshman at Indiana University, majoring in journalism, and have been a movie critic for my school paper and in my free time for several years now. Furthermore, I read your work all the time.
Firstly, I don't think I could in any honesty say what my favorite film would be either. It could be Juno, which was the top movie of my first genuine Best of the Year list. But how could that be. I've seen it twice. I typically consider my favorites as the films I grew up with: Beauty and the Beast, Toy Story, Star Wars, the Lord of the Rings Trilogy or the Harry Potter movies I'm convinced I've seen hundreds of times in parts on HBO. I don't think I'll ever be able to say.
But I couldn't agree more with your statements about La Dolce Vita. I have not seen it but know that I must. Likewise, there are many classics I have yet to see and ones (like Kane) that I must see again for I have not harnessed as deep an understanding of it.
The fact of the matter is, whenever I've seen a film, I believed I understood it, knew everything there was to know about it. Yet in studying for classes, reading your articles, watching the greats, and perhaps reading this entry in particular, I finally know that there is so much I do not know. Just as you described above, my opinions of certain films have changed, as well as my reactions towards them based on my mood or my life at that time. I don't know how I'll ever see all these films as many times as is necessary to grow. But I'm anxious to learn, about the treasures these films have to offer, about life in general, and about myself.
Thank you, and I only hope I can begin to grow as you have.
Maybe a better question is one that a friend asked me: What movie has changed your life? I don't know if it changed my life, but 2001 certainly changed my thinking. I saw it thirty years ago on a big screen when I was sixteen. I was blown away and it made me realize how infinitely sub-atomic our planet is and how much smaller we are. To underscore, an astronomer told me this: Draw a circle about three inches in diameter to represent the orbit of Pluto. At that scale you would need an electron microscope to see Earth. Our galaxy would extend from the Aleutian Islands to the Yucatan Peninsula. And the universe doesn't even start there. Maybe this is why I get more sense of God out of images from the Hubble Telescope than any church I've been in.
I might have eventually developed this philosophy if I'd never seen 2001, but that's where it started and why I keep coming back to it. Cool!
I've heard you say often that the most powerful function of film is to closely examine the human condition, that the greatest of films have something important to say about our nature. Don't get me wrong, I've got no argument available to pull "Kane" off of his thrown, but I'm afraid I must side with the many before me who have list Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey" as my favorite film.
I know you're a fan of the film. I've read your great movie article and you're top ten films of all time (which I might add, I have bookmarked). I'm sure you would agree that, while "2001" may not be the greatest film as far as craftsmanship (Kane) or the most hypnotically entertaining (Casablanca, City Lights, The Third Man), it is certainly among the most IMPORTANT films ever made. "2001" is something more. "A spiritual experience" i believe you called it. And you're right "all great films are".
I didn't post to complain that you didn't mention "2001". But it seems like this comments list has a petition going for you to post an article regarding your own personal relationship with the film, or at least with Kubrick, who is so far detached from the common "great" director.
I am ashamed to say I have not see "La Dolce Vita", but you would be pleased to know that your article has elevated the film to the top of my Netflix queue.
The one movie that got under my skin and basically replaced most of the above mentioned movies in this particular blog as being the best, including La Dolce Vita and 2001, was Fargo. The film's direction, acting, screenplay, actors, and the strange, quirky dialogue left me mesmerized. I know Gene liked it!
As I started reading the post, I was already thinking about how personal favorites should largely be defined by whether or not they can be seen over and over and over again rather than on quality alone or how it personally resonates with the viewer, though all three are necessary conditions of course. Someone already mentioned it, but my first thought to use as an example was how Schindler's List was probably one of the best movies I have ever encountered, but after seeing it I decided that I will never, ever again for as long as I live. (To give you an idea of how it affected me: my neighbor later asked my mother if I was OK, because she almost called the police based on the wailing sobs and whatever other noises she heard emanating from me!) Ditto on Pan's Labyrinth, which was so amazing that I bought it ASAP, though it will be awhile before I have to unwrap its packaging.
The favorites I always list on lame social networking sites are Back to the Future, Empire of the Sun, Cast Away, and the Indiana Jones series. Predictable crowd-pleasers don't exactly add to my film buff cred, but I find them chronically watchable, unlike, say, Twin Falls Idaho, which I also adored, and would maybe even qualify as being sufficiently non-mainstream enough to earn the unwanted approval of annoying hipsters!
Because we are talking movies here...
For now, I want to watch Cinema Paradiso or The Purple Rose of Cairo; ones that celebrate joys of films.
over the years ive realized how hard it is to say what your favorite movie is. i like so many movies and i feel like this decade's movies have really resonated with me because im so young and still naiive about what a good movie is. but there are the classics that i appreciate, and then there are the favorites that i can watch countless times. Ive seen Kane, and i admit that it's the best movie of all time because of its significance, but i think if i was forced to choose between buying the "Citizen Kane" dvd or "Touch of Evil", i would probably go with the latter, only because im a sucker for any noir or crime film.
My top ten?
"Heat"
"Repo Man"
"Who Framed Roger Rabbit"
"Stand By Me"
"The Fugitive"
"Lost in Translation"
"12 Angry Men"
"Bambi"
"It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World"
and even this year's "The Dark Knight", may sound a little soon to call it a favorite of mine, but it was that amazing and i hoe its met with recognition.
Great posts, everyone. I really like Roger's approach to the question as being "What do I want to see right NOW", because it's really cyclical. 25 years ago I would have said Star Wars. 15 years ago I would have said Goodfellas. 5 years ago I would have said Boogie Nights. Now? Who knows. But that's really the neat thing about growing as an adult and expanding your knowledge. I would say that over the past 3 years I've become way more film-literate mainly due to the Great Movies series as well as sponsoring a film club at the school I work at. The kids look to me as being a 'master', so naturally I have to know more than they do!
In fact, they did ask me this question a month ago, and I answered 'Goodfellas'. Maybe in another 5 years, it'll be back to 'Star Wars'!
Great article, though I must admit I don't share your enthusiasm for La Dloce Vita or for Fellini in general. I just haven't been able to relate to his movies and to really love them. I think it's a problem I have with Italian movies in general - there are very few Italian pictures I would say I truly love (the Bicycle Thief and Cinema Paradiso are my two favorite Italian pictures).
My favorite film would have to be Kurosawa's Ran. I've seen it countless times and it's truly my favorite movie. The first battle scene, aka. the fall of the third castle, is not only my favorite scene in all of Kurosawa, it's one of the most stunning and beautiful and mesmerizing set pieces I've ever seen.
But then, Kurossawa is my favorite all-time director. I have yet to see a movie of his that I don't like (fat chance of that happening - I've seen practically all of his movies, excluding those that came after Ran, which to me offically ends his carrer as a film maker). I hope to some day write a book about him and his movies in my native language of Hebrew - as far as I know such a book doesn't exist yet, and it's a shame.
On a funny note - on the next two weeks, and as a commemoration of his death, Israel's cable TV is showing - each night - one of his movies. Most of his great ones are there - Ikiru, the Seven Samurai, Ran, Yojimbo, etc. It's funny then, that the film that made him an international star - Rashumon - isn't on the list of films shown. Oh well...
Roger,
I have attended Ebertfest for the last 7 years. It is a wonderful festival and a joyous experience. "La Dolce Vita" in that theater was an experience I won't soon forget.
Recognizing that you don't intend to do additional audio commentaries anytime soon, I am wondering if you have ever considered doing a DVD commentary in written form. I don't know if this kind of thing has ever been done before, although there are certainly trivia tracks and things of that nature that might seem a similar concept.
I have your Great Movies Collection and I have read pretty much everything you've written on "La Dolce Vita" - but I would imagine that seeing it with your running comments would be the ultimate experience, aside from perhaps watching alongside Fellini himself, God rest his soul.
Granted, this is not in the cards for "La Dolce Vita" - but I wonder if you have or would consider it in other cases. I am hoping the answer is "YES" and I would be pleased to start a petition if it would help to persuade you.
Best,
Joe Bennett
I always answer "favourite movies" queries with my heart rather than my head. My head knows that Apocalypse Now and Citizen Kane are great movies, but my heart knows that I'd sure as hell rather watch Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle than either of them at any given time.
Thus, my top 5 looks something like this:
1. Untitled (The Almost Famous director's cut; I loved the movie before but seeing the extended version makes the theatrical cut look painfully incomplete.)
2. Magnolia (I know it has some big flaws, but I love it to pieces anyway - and isn't that what love TRULY is? Plus it's the movie that introduced me to Aimee Mann, now my favourite songwriter.)
3. The Castle (It's not just uproariously funny, it's genuinely sweet and beautfiul, and I will love the Kerrigan family until the day I die. Though I know at least one Australian who HATES the movie...because it's so damn accurate.)
4. Chasing Amy (Yes I'm a Kevin Smith fanboy, but this also happens to be a mature, thoughtful, moving film that still crams in at least a hundred penis jokes. No matter what Ben Affleck has done since, he has a lifetime pass from me because of his performance in this.)
5. Grosse Point Blank (Love Cusack. Love the music. Love everything about it.)
I don't expect any of these to ever turn up in a Sight and Sound poll, and I really don't care. At all.
I have since settled on Groundhog Day to be my favorite movie thus far. There are a lot of holes in my movie knowledge, as I haven't quite spent the time to watch the "classics." I would say my criteria for a favorite movie is more about how entertained I am when watching it, or how willing I'd be to watch it again, and not necessarily how well it was made. A movie like Citizen Kane I did not feel particularly entertained when watching it. I like to phrase the question not as what your favorite movie is, but if you were to be stranded on an island and could only pick a few movies to watch for all eternity, what would they be? And perhaps fittingly that movie for me is Groundhog Day. I could even throw a movie such as Anchorman onto the list. That movie still amuses me to no end.
if you want to find a great movie, look inside yourself, there's no better movie than the one you live in your life. la dolce vita is nothing to roger if roger doesn't apply some of himself in it. if he doesn't do that the movie is just a series of pictures. if he thinks this is his personal favorite, then fair enough, nobody can take that away from him. my favorite movie is my life
Thank you. If you had said Citizen Kane I would have stopped reading. I will certainly have to give La Dolce Vita a try. I think the distinction between "greatest" and "favorite" is an interesting one. You can know a movie is objectively well constructed in every sense of the word, but that doesn't mean you will enjoy it. The "greatest" movie can be defined independent of the viewer, and I don't think I'm qualified to make that judgment. Favorite, to me however, relies subjectively on the individual for whatever personal reason he/she might have.
I have since settled on Groundhog Day to be my favorite movie thus far. There are a lot of holes in my movie knowledge, as I haven't quite spent the time to watch the "classics." I would say my criteria for a favorite movie is more about how entertained I am when watching it, or how willing I'd be to watch it again, and not necessarily how well it was made. A movie like Citizen Kane I did not feel particularly entertained when watching it. I like to phrase the question not as what your favorite movie is, but if you were to be stranded on an island and could only pick a few movies to watch for all eternity, what would they be? And perhaps fittingly that movie for me is Groundhog Day. I could even throw a movie such as Anchorman onto the list. That movie still amuses me to no end.
Thank you. If you had said Citizen Kane I would have stopped reading. I will certainly have to give La Dolce Vita a try. I think the distinction between "greatest" and "favorite" is an interesting one. You can know a movie is objectively well constructed in every sense of the word, but that doesn't mean you will enjoy it. The "greatest" movie can be defined independent of the viewer, and I don't think I'm qualified to make that judgment. Favorite, to me however, relies subjectively on the individual for whatever personal reason he/she might have.
I have since settled on Groundhog Day to be my favorite movie thus far. There are a lot of holes in my movie knowledge, as I haven't quite spent the time to watch the "classics." I would say my criteria for a favorite movie is more about how entertained I am when watching it, or how willing I'd be to watch it again, and not necessarily how well it was made. A movie like Citizen Kane I did not feel particularly entertained when watching it. I like to phrase the question not as what your favorite movie is, but if you were to be stranded on an island and could only pick a few movies to watch for all eternity, what would they be? And perhaps fittingly that movie for me is Groundhog Day. I could even throw a movie such as Anchorman onto the list. That movie still amuses me to no end.
Let us agree that all lists of movies are nonsense. I have steadfastly refused to compose any list of films except for my annual Best 10 list, and the Sight & Sound poll--which has, after all, some real significance. Despite the entreaties of countless editors, authors and websites, I decline to make lists of the best comedies, horror films, Christmas films, family films, Westerns, musicals, political films, silent films, films about dogs, and so on. That way madness lies.
Agreed! And frankly, film critics who compile list after list really annoy me. Lists also tend to showcase how limited the viewing habits of the writer are.
I also wanted to say that I absolutely loved reading your thoughts above about 8 1/2, Roger. It's probably my favorite Fellini film and many of your own feelings about it echo mine. The movie has grown more poignant over the years.
Cheers!
I think my favourite picture is Arthur Penn's Night Moves. I Immediately connected with Gene Hackman's character Harry Mosby. The story is complicating but I found it had a lot of poetry too and everyone is well casted.
Right now Im into a lot of Scorsese pictures particularly Taxi Driver and Cape Fear(despite it's flaws) also the other films he comments on DVD's about other filmmakers like Powell and Pressburger, Elia Kazan, John Ford, Cecile B DeMille to Erich von Stroheim(I only seen him in Billy Wilder's Sunset Blvd I didn't know he was a filmmaker) the Warner Bros gangster pictures back in the day, and his documentary "Personal Journey through American Movies". With all that I think Scorsese has put me on a noose!
I think Robert Altman is great but I have this weird feeling a lot of people have forgotten about him. My favourite Altman picture is McCabe & Mrs Miller. I also admire Atom Egoyan's "Exotica", Bob Fosse's, "Lenny", Richard Brook's "In Cold Blood", Robert Bresson's "Pickpocket" Fritz Lang's "Clash By Night" John Ford's "The Informer", Charles Burnett "Killer of Sheep" there is so many other remembered titles by so many filmmakers(past and present) and what about the foreign films made in Africa and Spain? I still have to watch those pictures as well.
Raoul Walsh's "The Roaring Twenties" I thought was good. No particular clue why im going back to the 30's and 40's pictures maybe it's because of the times...
Thank you Roger
My favorite film is Steven Soderbergh's "Solaris". I am sure film connoisseurs would attempt to prove that "Citizen Kane" or its ilk should be my favorite; however, "Solaris" taps into a recess of elysian nostalgia that will always be outside of the Great Films' reach.
Favorite films, well, that has been easy for me to reflect on:
"Star Wars"(all six chapters into one big fantastic movie!)
"Star Trek 2: The Wrath of Khan"
"Aliens"
"Field of Dreams"
"The Karate Kid"
Yeah, I always get laughed at when people ask what my favorite movies are and I tell them. Then I ask them what their favorites are and they stop laughing and say something like "I don't know what my favorites are, but (this one) and (that one) are some of the greats." I consider my favorites as ones that I could watch over and over again on a deserted island and never grow tired of them. "Star Wars" has many reasons, from the actual creation/making of, special effects, sound design, to the story, the mythalogical connections, and above all, the characters. "Star Trek 2" because I love the characters best in that movie above all the other movies and TV incarnations and the themes of growing old and of sacrifice for the 'needs of the many.'
Other movies I never grow tired of watching are: "The Abyss" (director's cut, definitely!), "West Side Story", "12 Angry Men", "The Godfather"(all three!), "Ben-Hur", and "Ferris Buellor's Day Off"(the only time I've ever fallen out of my theatre seat because of laughing so hard).
Living here in Seattle, it has been so great having a variety of movie theatres that play older movies. Having the Cinerama here, I've been able to see "How The West Was Won" five times and I will always see it whenever it is here. They also have a 70mm Film Festival at times which has included "Lawrence of Arabia", "2001", "Oklahoma", "Ghostbusters", even "Silverado" and "Tron." The Metro Cinemas has had a few movie series in which I got to see "Sunset", "Casablanca"(I swore I would never rent it until having seen in a theatre!), and "The Searchers." A few years ago, I finally got to see "Citizen Kane" at the Harvard Exit and then later, they also showed "The Third Man." And I got to take my Grandmother to see "Rear Window" at the Egyptian before she got too weak to leave her home.
With Scarecrow Video here in Seattle, each summer is 'catch-up' time with movie classics. This summer, it was "Bad Day at Black Rock", "Goodbye Mr. Chips", "Young Mr. Lincoln", "Mrs Miniver", "Hells Angels", and various early Hitchcock movies.
So, my favorite movies are mine for my own reasons, but I love seeing all kinds of movies. The most movies I've seen in one year would be 104 different movies back in 1998. I began the year thinking, "How many movies could I see in one year if I focus on it?" I got lucky since there were so many re-releases and anniversary movies that year, since the new movies were generally horrible. "Lost in Space," anyone? But, Warner Brothers had their 75th anniversary and brought out four or five movies from each decade. "Wizard of Oz" played, as well as "Gone With The Wind" and "Enter The Dragon" all of which I had seen, but never in a movie theatre. I ended up with 104 and realized that that is an average of two movies each week. And that doesn't count the multiple times I saw "Saving Pvt. Ryan", "Gone With The Wind", "Grease" or others.
A wish list of movies I would love to see in a theatre would include: "Fiddler on the Roof", "Planet of the Apes", "The Best Years of Our Lives", the original "War of the Worlds", "Goldfinger" and "The Sound of Music."
Mr Ebert, do you still get popcorn when you go to the movies? I remember a long time ago on your show, you made a side comment about how when you walk into the lobby, the people behind the counter know to make up fresh popcorn for you.
Hope you are able to come to Seattle someday soon!
Chad
I live in Los Angeles where if you can find somebody who doesn't talk about movies or television, it's a breath of fresh air. So the question gets asked a lot. "What's your favorite movie?" "What's your favorite TV show?" What's the best (inset your own adjective) movie or TV show ever made?" They are all interchangeable. The beauty of growing older is that you stop asking the questions and just go to the movies or watch the TV shows and stop feeling like your jockeying for brownie points with the guy next to you. "Kane" is the ultimate answer and comes out as Pavlovian as saying "I don't watch television." Both answers are pretty ridiculous absolutes. "Citizen Kane" was a great movie but there have been hundreds of thousands of movies since that have moved each individual independently journeying into different mind-blowing experiences. When "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" came out, I was convinced that this was he best movie I had watched in a long time. No movie had really understood dream state as well as that movie had. It was my favorite for a long time. But then, "Midnight Run" comes on television and despite having seen it dozens of times, it still makes me laugh. Sometimes I think people choose what their favorite movie is depending on what cache they can hold over the people around them. Not to say "La Dolce Vita" isn't an amazing choice, but it's also the kind of choice a critic or film student would choose. "Breakfast at Tiffany's", "Rebel Without a Cause" (which is often interchanged with "East of Eden" or "Giant"), "Wizard of Oz," "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," "Wild Strawberries," "Rashomon", "Pulp Fiction"....these are so easily dropped like business cards, it makes me pine for someone to tell me their favorite movie is "Irreversible" or "Man Bites Dog." Apparently it takes a brass pair to go up to Aaron Sorkin and say your favorite movie was "Moonstruck." (This happened to my ex-wife who had worked for years in the movie poster grindhouse and was lucky enough to even at one point meet and work with Saul Bass. Dammit. There you go. Name dropping. It's contagious here.) So rather than say what my favorite movie is at this moment, which I can't think of one that I would say hits that level, I will say that some years back when Siskel was still alive, you had said that the best movie you could not recommend was Jim Jarmusch's "Dead Man." It was such a hard decision that the two of you had actually sat through the movie twice before coming to that conclusion. Well, I saw it. I loved it. I loved it's homage and beautiful/disturbing depiction of an Old West. I think it's definitely worth revisiting.
I agree that there's a difference between the best film in general and the film I like best. After all, I'm not the arbiter of the world. I love Sunset Boulevard enough to have bought a house on a namesake street, though.
The problem with assuming that the movie I like best is the best is that I have my little idiosyncrasies, things that tick me off to the point that I cannot enjoy the movie no matter how good it supposedly is. Worse, I don't apply those idiosyncratic judgments equally. I don't mind Monty Python's Life of Brian's portrayal of women as followers, mothers, and whores, but I do mind Wall Street's. I don't care if Shakespeare distorts history (and does he), but I feel insulted when Mel Gibson does. I love how Curtiz blatantly emotionally manipulates the audience in Casablanca: I hate it when Spielberg does the same thing in E.T.. Why this is I can't explain.
I wonder if other readers have the same experience of hating movies that are supposed to be good. I'd rather have a root canal than see Braveheart again. I don't care what Gibson says: you cannot successfully turn a real person into a fictional character unless you stick very close to the established facts. Otherwise you're just hanging a famous name on a character you created.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I enjoyed this blog as your point is an excellent one. There's a difference between the greatest films of all time and our favorite film. There's even a difference from what we consider to be the films of our life. There were many films seen during my childhood which charged my spirit. These films were not particularly good, "Billy Jack," the Disaster Films of the 1970s, "Jaws," even, God help us, "Smokey and the Bandit." These were films I viewed when there was not an empty seat in the house, and my friends and I clapped and cheered. I watch these films today and feel the warmth of childhood, realizing they will not make anyone's 10 best list. But the films that stunned me with unusual truth and, most importantly, their attempt to be something more than a movie, are so intimate I have difficulty showing them to family and friends. Like great novels, they reveal life to be more than drudgery, and they provide meaning. Films that come to mind include "Ikiru," "City Lights," "The Best Year of Our Lives," "Sunrise," "Brief Encounter," "Portrait of Jennie," "On the Waterfront," "The Quiet Man" and more recently "The Piano," "Housekeeping," (I was thrilled to read that you are a fan of Bill Forsyth's gem of a film) "The Last Temptation of Christ," "The Straight Story" and "The Lives of Others." There are others, there are always others.
My favorite films are ones that make me endlessly happy: Sunrise, North by Northwest, and The Apartment are always interchangeably in my top three. Then again, the movie I return to the most is Young Frankenstein. It's my favorite way to enjoy insomnia.
I watch a lot of TV shows and movies.
It's hard to answer the question, "what's my favorite movie?" So let me answer it this way: my favorite movie of the 20th century is Casablanca and that of the 21st century-Lord of the Rings: Return of the King.
I wish Casablanca was no. 1 instead of Citizen Kane. Casablanca delivers more emotion. Ingrid Bergman captivated the audience with her excellent performance. She had quite an impact on me. Don't forget Bogie. He made quite an impression on the audience. Glad I have the 2-disc special edition.
I like your distinction between "greatest" and "favorite." Every time I watch "The Godfather Part 2" I see something new, learn something more about the characters. To me it is the greatest of films. But, when I'm down or heartbroken, is it the film I pop in the ol' DVD player? No. That's usually "Ferris Bueller's Day Off." Not the best film by any stretch of the imagination, but one that touches that part of me that no other film reaches. "La Dolce Vita" is a great choice. As much as "2001" and "The 400 Blows" are great films, I don't think I'll ever be capable of watching them dozens of times for pleasure. For academic reasons, probably. But certainly not to make me more joyful.
I have always had a major problem with "favorites" and have to admit I can't really understand the concept. I am a voracious reader and film lover. When someone asks me what a book I'm reading is "about" I can only think to say "It's about 400 pages long, you should read it". I could answer in a better way I suppose but does the person who asked really want the kind of elaborate explanation it would take to convey what the book is "about"? Any film or book is about the journey and the experience and, as Roger said, the intimate relationship to yourself and your own life experience at moments in time and moments of rememberance.
I've often said that Breakfast at Tiffany's is my "favorite" film for reasons including its wit and urbanity and Audrey Hepburn at her most exquisite, but also for much more complex reasons about myself and the periods in my life when I first saw the film and later shared it with others. Could I possibly say I love it more than Raise the Red Lantern or Surfwise or The Counterfeiters or This is England or The Lives of Others or True Romance (which I will watch to the finish any time it passes my eyes when I'm channel surfing and I am not even sure why). How about In Bruges or The Night of the Shooting Stars or The Passion of Joan of Arc or Peter O'Toole breathing or, or, or...? They are all my favorites. I am tweaking right now that I can't list a hundred more.
Favorites aren't really about quality, and I am not sure they can be shared, but I am happy to recommend a good film or book any time. Only please let's talk AFTER you've viewed or read it yourself.
E.T. would be my La Dolce Vita. It came out when I was 7, and at the time I was mostly taken with the idea of a boy who kept an alien in his closet. Over the years, I responded to different aspects of the story: how divorce affects a family, the loneliness of the various characters(most notably the mother and ET himself), how the movie is about children but not necessarily a children's movie, the wonderful cinmematography...you get the idea. Once a year or so, I sit down and watch this movie without any interruptions.
I also have a hard time answering the question, "What is your favorite movie?" As a film critic, I (like you) see hundreds of movies each year. Ask me to pick a favorite and I'm more likely to start rolling off a long list of films that have affected me in one way or another; narrowing it down to just one seems impossible, especially as the number of years on the job accumulate and more great films are discovered. I would suspect that non-critics who see and absorb a similar number of movies per year would find it equally difficult.
And in the end, isn't it kind of pointless to just pick one film as a favorite? I think it says more about the viewer to hear a list of his/her most meaningful films. You get more of a sense of the person's taste to consider, say, ten films they love rather than just one.
In my case, I'd be likely to list Star Wars, JFK, Schindler's List, The Third Man, the original King Kong, Do the Right Thing, Dog Day Afternoon, Alien, Stranger Than Paradise, Juno, and just about any Martin Scorsese movie.
My favourite movie is actually based on what was the best cinematic experience I've ever had in my life.
What's Up Tiger Lily.
Yes, Woody Allen's re-editing and re-dubbing of a couple of Japanese spy thrillers, creating a completely ridiculous yet hilarious feature length action thriller where everyone is in pursuit of the ultimate egg salad recipe.
I first saw this movie in a repertoire theatre some twenty years ago. Incredibly, not only was the theatre filled to capacity, the audience members were laughing and cheering, and were truly enjoying themselves as I saw the incredibly absurd yet highly entertaining movie unfold in front of me. The audience even stayed during the closing credits!
I was in a room with a bunch of open-minded people who, like me, simply wanted to enjoy some mindless entertainment with no social or political themes whatsoever. And we definitely got our money's worth.
It was the best cinematic experience of my life, and it has yet to be surpassed.
I have a fairly stable top ten list, but only the first two positions are ranked. I can answer without hesitation that my favorite movie of all time is _Dr. Strangelove_. I also happen to know my second favorite movie of all time, which I've seen at least ten times on the big screen, is _Delicatessen_. The other 8 films on my list have no particular rank, and are mostly films I've loved since I was a kid, like _The Adventures of Robin Hood_ or _The Wizard of Oz_. I've seen lots of films that are better than most of the films on my list, many films that amazed or stunned me (_Children of Men_ comes to mind), but none that I like more.
And yes, _Citizen Kane_ is on my top ten list. It blew me away when I took a film history class in high school. It's one of the three films that revolutionized my life, opened my eyes, and changed my world view. The other two are _Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind_ (also on my list) and _American Beauty_.
Six of the films on my list have also been covered by a Great Movies article.
I don't know if anyone else has had this experience, but I've often found that positive reviews of some of my favorite movies kind of miss the mark of the movies' appeal. And that's why some faves like "Merry Christmas, Mr Lawrence" (gay angle? Big deal), "Marat/Sade", "Shawshank Redemption", and "Passion of Joan of Arc" keep playing for me. The bad reviews provide some prickings to kick against.
Example: in 1986, I saw William Friedkin's "To Live And Die In L.A" at a $1.50 theater after only a few months of its' theatrical release. Friedkin's rep had long suffered, since 'Sorceror' (not so bad a pic)and I still had in my head a TIME mag' review which stated that William Peterson's performance couldn't even be evaluated as such, because (IIRC) the entire movie was false and disgusting from the ground up, or some such eloquent put-down. But it was the only action pic at the theater that Friday night and how bad could it be? Man. Wow. Changed the way I saw movie violence (no slow motion!), and thanks to Friedkin's cold-eyed direction later became the crime pic to test others against. Yet when I much later read Mr. Ebert's review, it was good to see TLDLA had at least one major booster but I felt he missed something and I still can't put my finger on it.
But you know something? TIME's reviews just aren't all that. I watch "L.A." now and then, and trust Ebert's Friday morning suggestions after all these years.
I don't know if anyone else has had this experience, but I've often found that positive reviews of some of my favorite movies kind of miss the mark of the movies' appeal. And that's why some faves like "Merry Christmas, Mr Lawrence" (gay angle? Big deal), "Marat/Sade", "Shawshank Redemption", and "Passion of Joan of Arc" keep playing for me. The bad reviews provide some prickings to kick against.
Example: in 1986, I saw William Friedkin's "To Live And Die In L.A" at a $1.50 theater after only a few months of its' theatrical release. Friedkin's rep had long suffered, since 'Sorceror' (not so bad a pic)and I still had in my head a TIME mag' review which stated that William Peterson's performance couldn't even be evaluated as such, because (IIRC) the entire movie was false and disgusting from the ground up, or some such eloquent put-down. But it was the only action pic at the theater that Friday night and how bad could it be? Man. Wow. Changed the way I saw movie violence (no slow motion!), and thanks to Friedkin's cold-eyed direction later became the crime pic to test others against. Yet when I much later read Mr. Ebert's review, it was good to see TLDLA had at least one major booster but I felt he missed something and I still can't put my finger on it.
But you know something? TIME's reviews just aren't all that. I watch "L.A." now and then, and trust Ebert's Friday morning suggestions after all these years.
Roger,
Great insight as usual. I've wanted to ask you this question for a long time: Is it even possible for a contemporary film-maker to create a film that would surpass "Citizen Kane" in the eyes of critics? It seems to me that a certain amount of time needs to pass before a contemporary work can develop the venerability for comparison. For example, Raging Bull, is looked upon with greater respect nearly 30 years after it's release even though it was critically acclaimed in it's time. Seems to me there is an aging factor that comes into play in consideration of "greatness" in art.
I'd love to hear your thoughts on this topic.
" Seven Samurai " is my all time favourite film ever,ever.
I watches " La Dolce Vita " because Mr. Ebert loves it, I did not quite get it, but appreciated it. I'm still young (23) and still have a lot time to learn, about film and about life.
The movie I'd most like to watch is an interesting question. While I could easily start focusing on the more artistically revered movies that I've recently been watching as an attempt to become more cultured in film, I'm not going to.
Instead, I have to focus on the movies that I just am most entertained by. Here are ones I'd have to choose from:
-Alien/Aliens
-Platoon
-Tombstone
-Jaws
Well there, I immediately started questioning myself for not having a Cronenberg or Lynch film in there.
No top list means much without the criteria that was used to determine it. I could make lists of movies that had the most impact on the way I looked at film, my life, the ones that made me laugh the hardest, cheer the loudest, shed the most tears, make me the angriest, most adrenalin pumped, made me the most afraid, seen teh most times, etc. But best or favorites? No. I've seen too many. Its unfair to put them in a list. Its unfair because a list insinuates that there's some kind of even distribution of how much I liked a film inbetween each number. Its unfair because movies can be favored equally for different reasons. I can love a movie that made me angry as much as a movie that gave me an adrenalin rush. Its unfair because for a film to be the best we'd have to develop a specific criteria for what would make a film be the best. Nobody can do so, even with Citizen Kane. While we can talk about all the reasons its good, I can't see a person explain objectively how it is better than Vertigo, 2001: Space Odyssey, Taxi Driver, The Conformist, The Big Lebowski, Seven Samurai, or Apocalypse Now.
However, lists are useful. They suggest to us a way to prioritize which films we watch. We have limited time. A top ten list from Ebert for 2008 lets me know which films from 2008 I should strongly consider watching (if I haven't seen them already). A top 100 from AFI lets me know what films to add to my Blockbuster queue, since its doubtful that a bad movie will be on that list, even if the list isn't how I'd order it.
Fitzcarraldo from childhood.
Thank you for your eloquent celebration of La Dolce Vita. It is a timeless film that is true to the humanity in us all. It is a deeply spiritual film in a very naturalistic, more personal way.
A couple years ago I wrote a review of the film on one my blogs. I wrote - "Marcello strikes me like many people I encounter in the church. We want it all. We want tradition. We want to be contemporary, modern, postmodern, progressive, evangelical, conservative, and liberal. We want the best preaching, worship, outreach, evangelism and discipleship. Lets just say we want to be cool, influential and on the cutting edge of the church and the world, at the same time. We want our opinions to be influential and respected, and we want community and intimacy. As a result, we are filled with unrequited desire. We desire to love God, to be loved by others, and live a full and enriching life. And yet, we hold on to that which Marcello holds onto, the last possession that every individual has, the will to surrender, to give oneself to someone, some ideal, cause or calling, without reservation."
(http://edbrenegar.typepad.com/thepresbyterianpolis/2006/02/la_dolce_vita_c.html )
I don't have a favorite film. There are films that I love and need to see. Some provoke me to thought, to laughter and tears, and some to be a person. So, maybe the better list are those films that have changed us for the better. And La Dolce Vita would be at the top of that list for me.
Mr Ebert,
I can't believe no one has mentioned "Aguirre, the Wrath of God". If anyone is reading this and has not heard of this Herzog masterpiece, by all means get a copy, kick back and watch in a dark room.
My favorite movies are ones that surprise me. I'm bored by movies that do exactly what I expect them to do, which is why I was not a big fan of IRON MAN but loved DARK KNIGHT (which I think is a revolutionary film).
That's why my favorite movie continues to be AMADEUS - a period piece in which most of the major players have American accents (without apology). The narrative starts as a comedy and ends with tragedy, without a jarring effect - it earns its stripes as a drama. It's also the only costume drama I can think of that contains flatulence.
Others are on my list because they defy expectations: PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE, MULHOLLAND DR., FARGO, BIG NIGHT, THREE KINGS, LOST IN TRANSLATION, THE THIRD MAN, HOOP DREAMS. All of them perfect, none of them predictable in any way.
All movie and literature themes can be summed up in Solomon's Book of Ecclesiates. God has already recorded our thoughts before we thought them in that book of the Old Testment.
Enjoyed the blog!
Thank you for acknowledging the corrupt character of the "Top Ten," one of America's most loathsome cultural gifts to the planet.
My rancor toward the Top Ten list is precisely this: is there anything less true to one's love of a work of art than to make it "compete" with other great (and often utterly different) works? Could there be anything more trivializing and less worthy of the time, thought, and effort invested in important works of art?
Incidentally, the shift from "favorite" to "important" is a very, very important one. In this shift, one goes from consumer to historian. This is a shift I am interested in, and the reason my responses to this blog never consist of lists of my favorite films or personal anecdotes. Why, then, do I appreciate -Ebert's- personal anecdotes? Because he's historically important!
This is not to say that I am against all personal response to film. But I am more compelled by arguments for films that consist of their importance to -everyone- than to one's own personal history or pleasure, no offense to my fellow commenters. I am charmed by Ebert's explication of the temporally anamorphic relationship that we have to our favorite films and to those characters we identify with. But -La Dolce Vita-, for me, is moving because, like Godard's -Contempt-, it is such a powerful distillation of what was lost in the rush to postwar modernization in Europe.
For me Mastroianni's character represents that desire that we all have to be "outside" of history, to be mere observer, to never be implicated in the corruption around us. The lurid entertainments he drowns in are attempts to forget, to delay, his connectedness to the world around him.
Mr. Ebert,
Is Roger Eberton a ghost writer for you? "'What's your favorite movie' by Roger Eberton"? I'm guessing it's a typo, but I thought I'd let you know.
From a huge fan of your work.
Ebert: I believe it's a real name, all right, but not mine.
An interesting question might be, "What's your favorite movie that isn't a 'great' movie?"
For me at least that rules out most of the movies cited by other posters, many of which I also enjoy greatly and have watched more than once.
A quirky little film that speaks personally to me is "The Secret of Roan Inish." I like the penny-whistle score, the lilting accents, the storytelling, the intermingling of myth and life....
Some people can't stand it, but if you have some Irish heritage or some empathy with a way of life once precious and now lost, maybe it will inveigle its way into a corner of your heart as well.
"Greatest" and "Favorite". I wonderful distinction. I think that "Greatest" requires an explanation of why you think a given film is great, and why it's greater than all the other great films. But "Favorite" is more personal. Certainly, you CAN explain why a film is your favorite. But you don't need to. My favorite film is "Chariots of Fire". People who know my taste in films are sometimes surprised, and ask me why. The answer is, "Because I like the damn thing." :)
I recently discussed this on my blog by trying to pin down my 25 favorite movies (as arbitrary as it is, it's still fun) by making it a little more interesting for myself; I allowed just one slot per director. So even though Bergman would most likely dominate the top 25, he only gets one slot. Which of course makes things even more confusing and arbitrary, because really, how does one choose a single Bergman film to represent them all (I chose "Cries and Whispers", a fairly good representative.)? My favorite film I selected was Fellini's "8 1/2", a film that does for me what it sounds like "La Dolce Vita" does for you (and did for you when you first saw it). The funny thing is, in my write-up on "8 1/2" I couldn't help but not only mention the ending of "La Dolce Vita", but I linked a clip to it too.
I guess my point is how does one talk about their favorites without going down so many sidebars about other great films linked to the one you were initially talking about? Another thing I have always wondered is how does one go about differentiate the "best" of something from their "favorite" of the same thing. Certainly nostalgia and personal taste play more heavily into the influence of how highly we regard our favorite movies. Whereas something cold and not necessarily inviting (like how you explain Fellini's films), but aesthetically pleasing (like anything post "2001" Kubrick) could be considered the best out of a certain crop of movies. Sometimes they are both, but does it really matter if someone (like me) prefers "Touch of Evil" to "Citizen Kane"? It's not as if discussing "Touch of Evil" I will somehow forget to speak on the importance of "Kane".
I think coming up with a "best of" list is probably easier than trying to think of your favorites, because of the problems that can come with trying to conjure up every film that has some importance or meaning in your life. Whereas a "best of" list is almost certain to contain your typical crop of foreign films, Hitchcock, and Kubrick. Plus, favorites lists are more fun, for instance on my list I had a lot of placing "Robocop" next to "Vertigo".
Like many people, my answer to the favorite movie question is fluid. It changes sometimes hourly, and every questionnaire I have filled out at various internet groups has different answers. Except for two. Nearly everywhere, I have put two films on those lists- The Umbrellas Of Cherbourg and The Manchurian Candidate ( 1962- don't even try and talk to me about the remake- heinous). The former I love for it's pastels, music, and simple story ( and Catherine Deneuve... so gorgeous). The latter I love for the complex thrills and political conversation it creates, plus Angela Lansbury as one of the most vicious women ever to appear on screen- how can you not love it? I have taken to answering people's questions with my latest momentary fave ( this week- Anatomy Of A Murder), then imploring them to look at the other two as well. I've been thanked by some, so I think I'm getting there.
Roger,
I couldn't agree more. Just the other day I sat in front of rows and rows of my favorite movies and, just for fun, tried to pick out my top 5. I struggled. I then decided to pick the top 10. It wasn't any easier. When I continued to have problems picking out a top 20, I knew it was pointless... how could I ever assume to pick a FAVORITE movie if I couldn't pick easily pick out my favorite twenty?
It's also true that there are many great movies, some of which a viewer may be more able to see 20 times compared to another. I don't think I've ever tired of watching 'Fargo' or 'Almost Famous', but I don't necessarily have to watch 'The Bicycle Thief' as fantastic as it is, every 6 months.
Love the Blog. Always rack my brains for my favourites. Its like comparing, apples, oranges, and pears. I have those which entertain me, move me emotionally, visually thrill me, Have magnificent acting, challenge my thinking - its a neverending and increasing list. Some take me back to my younger days when the entertainment value was what was important. Then came Barry Lyndon, Raging Bull, Network, The Wild Bunch, Klute, The Conversation,and others. The summer blockbuster was no longer the only film to rush to for me.
Try as I may I couldn't pick a favourite. Casablanca, Beat the Devil, The Treasure of Sierra Madre, La Strada, Vertigo, Strangers on A Train, Psycho, The Hidden Fortress, Yojimbo, Lawrence of Arabia, Apocalypse Now, The Godfather, Five Easy Pieces, The Official Story, Anna, Diva, L'Atalante, Citizen Kane, A Touch of Evil, The Third Man, The Rules of the Game, All The President's Men, Jaws, "ET", Star Wars, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Goodfellas, Taxi Driver, The Departed, Magnolia, American Beauty, Das Boot, Fargo, No Country For Old Men, McCabe and Mrs. Miller, There Will Be Blood, Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, Manhattan, Annie Hall, Crimes and Misdemeanors, Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill (1&2), The Good the Bad and the Ugly, Unforgiven, A Clockwork Orange, "If...", The Apartment, The Sweet Smell of Success, Get Carter, Goldfinger, Chinatown, Breaking the Waves, The Last Laugh, "M", Mephisto, Jules and Jim, The Gold Rush, Modern Times, The General, ..... its a neverending list of films I watch more than a few times and its not even near complete. If they come on T.V., I'm hooked into watching the whole film from the first snippet I see. Even if I have the DVD which I can put on at any time. I just like to sink into another world.
Roger,
I think one telling aspect of a truly "great" film is one where the viewer can have experiences similar to what you've described here with La dolce vita. If you can come back to it years later and still have different reactions to it --it doesn't go "stale"-- then that film is definitely doing something right. It means it's growing with you. That is the most amazing function of art --that it requires our own experiences to inform it. That having been said...
I'll probably get lambasted, but I'm likely part of an extreme minority in America who would not put Citizen Kane on a top ten or even a top 25 list. In fact, I've seen it at least 6 or 7 times in various classes and I've been indifferent every time. Good movie? Sure, it's alright. Great movie? Eh. Greatest? No, sorry. It's like the Emperor and those pesky invisible clothes; I'm just not seeing it, not then, not now. As you point out, it may have consolidated the film language, may have broken technical ground etc etc, but that gets into the "rules" territory of film analysis that I abhor so much. Just as James Joyce had no need for a novel's customary "language" when he wrote Ulysses and Finnegan's Wake, I don't think filmmakers need a preordained film language either.
You say that Rules of the Game comes in a close second for greatest film. I say it should be first! That or Renoir's equally impressive Grand Illusion (if memory serves, a film Welles himself called the best of all time, or something to that effect). Or how about Dreyer's The Passion of Joan of Arc? Or Chaplin's City Lights? All made before Kane, coincidentally. Ones that came after: Kiarostami's Taste of Cherry. Bresson's Lancelot du lac. Capra's It's a Wonderful Life. Dreyer's Gertrud. La dolce vita! Yes! I can make a huge list. I'd better stop before it gets any bigger. Like you, I hate lists.
That having been said, I DO like making a list of "The Most Overrated Films of All Time". You should try it, it's fun. I won't give you my list, but you can bet that there's a film I've mentioned right here in this response that would certainly be on it. ;)
Ever since I was a child in the early '70s, sneaking into the basement at midnight to watch Bogart, Stewart and Cagney movies on the CBC, film has been my emotional and intellectual educator in the ways of humanity. Sounds arrogant and disconnected from reality, I know, but, like no other art form, film is a remarkable representation of humanity and its multitude of cultures and beliefs. Through film, I have learned (and have had seeded the desire to learn more) about the cultures of Japan, Israel, Russia and Brazil. Film has also prompted me to travel and see for myself the cultures to which I have been exposed. Its influence on my life and beliefs is immeasurable.
Film does not necessarily present realism but it does not need to. Rather, a film, good or bad, always reflects the perceptions of its creators. The more atuned to those perceptions we the viewers are, the more we relate to (and therefore enjoy) what we see on the screen. When all the artistic elements connect strongly with our own perceptions at the same time, the richer, more rewarding the experience. As you suggest, Roger, our perceptions change with time and the films that resonate most strongly with us in one phase in our life may not hold up in another. However, if a film has the complexity to be viewed differently over time and still resonates with us, that is a special connection that I believe is rare.
The film whose emotional, artistic and intellectual elements have all come together for me with each viewing is undoubtably Bergman's Fanny and Alexander. Is it his best film? I am not sure. Is it the best film ever made? For me it is. I have connected to it (and it to me) in every way, and in different ways, with each viewing. Like no other film, it touches me deeply with its depth of spirituality, humour, sadness, uncertainty, and its stunning beauty. In my eyes, Bergman created a film just for me. Though I have none of the actual experiences of its place, time or characters, it is a reflection of me -- touching every aspect of who I am as a human being. And as I age, its complexity introduces to me new wonders that I had not seen before. Does it relate to me or to it? It does not matter as it has become the film of my life.
And thank you Roger for guiding through film my continuous education.
Peter Bogdanovich correctly answered this question over thirty years ago. To paraphrase him, he said it depended upon his mood at the time. This is true of my relationship with film. Is there a "greatest Mozart" or a "greatest Michelangelo"? Perhaps it is better to come up with a list (again realizing that lists are intrinsically imperfect) but not putting it in order. At varying times my favorite films are "The Godfather (I & II)", "Citizen Kane", "The Apartment", "Intolerance", "The Searchers", "Little Big Man", "Bicycle Theives", "Nashville", and "American Graffiti." My absolute favorite depends upon my mood on any given day.
Peter Bogdanovich correctly answered this question over thirty years ago. To paraphrase him, he said it depended upon his mood at the time. This is true of my relationship with film. Is there a "greatest Mozart" or a "greatest Michelangelo"? Perhaps it is better to come up with a list (again realizing that lists are intrinsically imperfect) but not putting it in order. At varying times my favorite films are "The Godfather (I & II)", "Citizen Kane", "The Apartment", "Intolerance", "The Searchers", "Little Big Man", "Bicycle Theives", "Nashville", and "American Graffiti." My absolute favorite depends upon my mood on any given day.
I am a freshman journalism major and burgeoning film critic, and the questions of what is the greatest movie, what is my favorite movie, and what is the difference are challenging ones that I suppose I'll have to deal with if I ever want to become a working critic.
I wonder if it is unfair to say that Citizen Kane is The Greatest Movie of All Time. That implies that it is the greatest movie watching experience; while I appreciated the movie, and it might even make my top 10 of favorites, I can understand when people say that it is not the most emotionally affecting movie. It is beautifully crafted and a wonder to behold, but is it the (almost) universally best experience one can have watching a movie? I'm not sure.
Maybe "Greatest" is too vague. Is it the most influential? The most important? It is a work of technical genius and thematic complexity; it does not, however, deliver the moving experience that most people expect when they go to the movies.
I'm just rambling here - playing devil's advocate, maybe - but perhaps we should call The Greatest Movie of All Time the one that uses intelligent filmmaking techniques and storytelling to deliver a powerful emotional experience. Schindler's List, for me, does this. Seeing it was one of the most profound moviewatching experiences of my life; I had not cried like that from a movie, ever. And I was not cajoled to tears - Spielberg used what Welles helped create.
Kane as The Most Influential Movie of All Time or The Most Innovative Movie of All Time, and Schindler's List as The Greatest Moviegoing Experience of All Time? Maybe something like that.
Dear Readers: I'm currently swamped at the Toronto Film Festival, and swamped also by your most excellent comments on this topic. I have not had time to add as many personal responses as usual, but know I'm reading them and hope to go back over the where I get a free moment. If I mistakenly eliminated your comment, please send it in again. As somebody once said, I'm running as fast as I can.
Roger, I've so enjoyed reading your blog during the past few months. I have not previously felt compelled to comment, but the above review has guaranteed that I will see "La Dolce Vita" this weekend, and I can't wait to come back and reread your commentary after I've done so.
I am proud of my varied film knowledge, and ashamed that I have "overlooked" this title for so many years. I'll be sure to return with my impressions; I wonder how I will relate to this well-known film?
Best wishes in your continued recovery. I've gained much pleasure over the years from the wit, insight, and humanity in your reviews.
Thank you for these posts; this one in particular is really beautiful. Although I'm sure you realized while writing it that you were opening yourself up for hundreds of comments about everybody's "favorite" movies.
I like the Jonathan Rosenbaum quote: "It would be whatever Carl Dreyer film I had seen again most recently." That's often how I think of it: my favorite movie is the most recent truly great movie I've seen. Every time I watch Almost Famous, I'm certain it's my favorite film. But the two times I watched Into the Wild were near-religious experience for me. Then I say, no, it can't be too recent, so I default on wonderful childhood experiences like Star Wars or The Princess Bride. Then I think they're too simplistic, so I reach back and pick The Seventh Seal, possibly the most beautiful film I've ever seen. It's all dependent on your current mood.
Roger,
In your original review of "E.T.," you made a comment that for me has become the criterion for determining what my "favorite" movie is (I, like you, agree that "favorite" and "best" films should not be judged by the same criterion, and that the best film ever made, or even one's favorite, should not necessarily be one as one cannot bear the thought of never being able to see again):
"E.T The Extra-Terrestrial" is a movie like "The Wizard of Oz," that you can grow up with and grow old with, and it won't let you down." Perhaps some of your rationale for your love of "La Strada" is reflected in your "E.T." comment - to me, it seems that for you, both films are simultaneously timeless, while also existing outside of time, waiting to be discovered anew - and afresh - again and again.
For me (if one regards it as a movie), "Angels in America" ranks as the favorite using these definitions as a guide. Just thinking about the film leads me to a definition of my own for what one's "favorite" film is: the one for which one would do the most - perhaps do anything-to see it again for the first time-for that is when we can first learn that "we can grow old" with the film and that it will "never let us down."
Cheers and God Bless,
Dan L.
Another great blog entry, Roger. Like you, Citizen Kane is in my top films, but would not be the first film I would watch again if given the choice. That would be "The Third Man," which to me is the perfect film in terms of story, supporting cast, great dialogue, unforgettable music, great black & white cinematography, and perhaps the greatest "short" performance in movie history (most people that watch it are amazed afterwards when you tell them that Orson Welles was only in three scenes). I keep waiting for Alida Valli to stop to talk to Joseph Cotton at the end of the film, but it never (and no doubt shouldn't) happens.
If I had only ten films to live the rest of my life with, they would be, in addition to The Third Man and Kane, The Godfather, Casablanca, The Shawshank Redemption, City Lights, Lawrence of Arabia, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Brief Encounter, and 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Roger you make a very good case for Citizen Kane as Welles and his masterpiece deserve every bit of praise you and others bestow upon it. However, Citizen Kane does not have the deep heart that "Rules of the Game" by Jean Renoir has. For my money Jean Renoir edges out Kenji Mizoguchi as best director ever and therefore his supreme masterpiece "Rules of the Game" wins best picture ever with that as my measuring stick. I haven't seen it in years so I wont go into a detailed account about why it is numero uno IMO. However, I do recall why I love and respect Renoir so much as a filmmaker. Renoir has accomplished something in each of his films that I find extraordinarily rare. As I recall everyone of the characters in his films comes across as a real person. How he was able to craft all of his characters large and small with such depth and genuineness is to my knowledge unparalleled in his profession. The zenith of this skill was when he also included Marie Antoinette in his pantheon of film personifications who felt like real persons flawed but human. Obviously, film history is filled with versions of Marie Antoinette that range from one dimensional meanie to multi-dimensional creep. However no other version that I am aware of can touch your soul like Renoir did with her. The reason "Rules of the Game" should be considered above "Citizen Kane" is that Renoir's film takes head on the element in our lives that is most important love. For my money love is the one thing everybody obsesses the most about everyone feels but ultimately it is rare that someone truly understands it. Renoir looks at love from seemingly every angle and does so with profound wisdom and a palette of filmmaking skills that every filmmaker craves. Kane is also a profound meditation on the value of love and its lack thereof. However, Rules shows what it is and is not which is much more of value to me.
The excellent critic and historian Bill Warren (who will soon be re-issuing a revised edition of his outstanding work on 50s science fiction films, KEEP WATCHING THE SKIES!) makes a similar distinction between the "best" films and his "favorites". So while he asserts that FORBIDDEN PLANET is his favorite science fiction film of all time, he nonetheless asserts that 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY is the best of all time. In KWTS, he explains how his first viewing of FORBIDDEN PLANET had an impact on him similar to that LA DOLCE VITA had on Roger, albeit at a much younger age.. I consider 2001 to be both the best science fiction film, AND it is also my second-favorite film in that genre (my favorite SF film is original Hawks-Nyby version of The Thing From Another World). Similarly, I agree that Citizen Kane is the greatest American film of any genre, but The Treasure of the Sierra Madre is my favorite American film
however...
I'm of the opinion that Sight and Sound got it right the first time when they named THE BICYCLE THIEF the greatest film made up to that point. It's not only neck-to-neck with Sierra Madre as my favorite film, but in terms of narrative and cinematic technique, it has had an impact every bit as great as that of KANE. If its impact in those areas aren'tt as widely recognized today, it's probably because DeSica worked them so seamlessly and invisibly into the film that they come across as totally natural, and we are unaware of how they are working on us. BICYCLE THIEF is to CITIZEN KANE what Spencer Tracy is to Charles Laughton.
"What's your favorite movie?" is a classic question, whether it's a first date or within forums such as these. I think we ask it to learn more about the person answering and we answer it to offer up the same, or perhaps just to proselytize a film we feel someone else REALLY should experience. As you mentioned and so many others here have agreed with, answering it is virtually impossible...even more so for filmatists; it's a rare person who knows with conviciton what their favorite film is. So many things affect a person's thinking on the subject: mood, time of day, films seen, hobbies, nationality, etc, etc, etc. And while the question is still a great conversational subject, I've attempted to simplify it with a variation on your version of the same, but instead of asking which movie you would like to see again right now, I ask what movie have you seen more often than any other. I believe it cuts to the heart of the matter and skirts those snags of whether you're in the mood, how important the film is in history, or whatever, and simply makes the question be "what film have you enjoyed more than any other?" Of course, the question still isn't perfect and the answer can certainly change over time (a person can get a new favorite, after all), but the answers can be pretty interesting.
Oh, and to be fair, while I love film and own thousands of them, the movie I've seen more than any other? Chris Reeve's "Superman."
Personally, I've never understood how anyone's mind can work rationally enough to make a clear distinction between "great" and "favorite" movies. I know that some movies are more influential, groundbreaking or technically sound than others, but I would argue that even those observations are subjective. Not only that, but I am also sure that different film critics, makers and lovers would disagree on which element of a film is more important: if one movie has brilliant, innovative dialogue (which in itself is just the viewer's personal opinion, however educated or well-argued it may be) and another represents an astonishing advance in the art of cinematography (ditto), how does one decide which of the two is better? The decision is down to what the viewer looks for in a film, and as no one is the definitive authority on what we should look for in a film, there can be no absolute answer.
Having said that, it's unlikely that anyone who knows a little or more about film history would deny that "Citizen Kane" is an important film, not just because it was technically groundbreaking, but also due to its immeasurable influence on many of the most beloved and admired filmmakers there ever were, and to how firmly it has asserted its position as a constant reference point to those who write and talk about movies. However, it's debatable what exactly makes it great. One could argue that it's the epitome of an auteur's work, but then again, a lot of movies fit that description, and there might be people who question the validity of the auteur theory (the fact that one of the people who invented it, Jean-Luc Godard, has gone on record saying that the term was only coined because the "Cahiers" critics wanted to call attention to themselves doesn't help).
I suspect that the main reason why "Citizen Kane" is practically universally considered the greatest film of all time is that so many people just plain love it. It tells a story that has compelled, touched and haunted countless viewers, and it has done so in a way (both technically and structure-wise) that has absorbed and hypnotized them. The fact that it still manages to thrill viewers is testament to the notion that the filmmaking on display did not merely seem fresh and new at the time, but that it grew out of a deep understanding of how a viewer's thoughts and emotions can be guided.
My favorite movie is Sam Mendes' "American Beauty". When people ask me why, I never know where to start. For example, I love the dialogue. Alan Ball has some mysterious talent (evidenced also by his work on "Six Feet Under") for writing dialogue that is nuanced, witty, polished, and yet comes across as completely effortless and believable. I can't put my finger on what it is that makes the tone of it so irresistible to listen to, but I know that it makes me laugh and feel for the characters who speak it, and it often gives me goosebumps. Also crucial, of course, is who the characters are played by. Kevin Spacey puts enough distance between the things he says on the one hand and the way he says them and the look in his eyes on the other to constantly draw us in with the question of what exactly is occuring in his inner world. I love Annette Bening in the role of a cold, tense, superficial robot of a woman who doesn't annoy us with her cold surface more than she evokes our pity for the once happy, lively spirit that years of boredom and disappointment have worn away. Wes Bentley and Thora Birch are perfect as the disturbed teenagers who find solace in each other, and Chris Cooper and Mena Suvari not only do a terrific job of building an image of strength and superiority (him of a distinctly male kind, her a distinctly female), but create a moving portrayal of the wounds, the insecurities and the torments that these conceal. All the characters are cynical, weary, angry and at times even seem downright spiteful, and yet all of them are, in their own way, looking for beauty and love in their lives, and the movie never fails to produce a tingle down my spine when it starts to make this evident.
Then there are the amazing visuals, with the cinematography by Conrad L. Hall creating a hypnotic texture of light and darkness that makes the ordinary look breathtaking. And I love the score by Thomas Newman (one of the film industry's great artists), with its sad, profoundly affecting melodies and exotic touches.
And then, of course, there's the ending, which is the most stunning of any movie I have ever seen. The different story strands are brilliantly interwoven, the editing, music and camera movements create a perfect cinematic flow, and the voice-over speech manages to be both optimistic and unbearably heartbreaking, and countless other things, at the same time. Kevin Spacey's character describes how a certain feeling "flows through [him] like rain", and that describes exactly how the whole movie, and the ending in particular, works on me.
Above all I love how I can talk about the movie endlessly (and I have, for years), and it never seems to get old. I still feel that I haven't understood exactly what makes it so stunning.
It is, in my opinion, the greatest film I have ever seen. The reason? The reason is that it blows me away like no other movie does, and that's that. "Citizen Kane" may be more important, more influential, more groundbreaking, more anything anyone can think of, but as much as I love it - and I really do - I don't think I will ever concede that it demonstrates the extent of what the movies can do to us more effectively than "American Beauty".
Personally, I've never understood how anyone's mind can work rationally enough to make a clear distinction between "great" and "favorite" movies. I know that some movies are more influential, groundbreaking or technically sound than others, but I would argue that even those observations are subjective. Not only that, but I am also sure that different film critics, makers and lovers would disagree on which element of a film is more important: if one movie has brilliant, innovative dialogue (which in itself is just the viewer's personal opinion, however educated or well-argued it may be) and another represents an astonishing advance in the art of cinematography (ditto), how does one decide which of the two is better? The decision is down to what the viewer looks for in a film, and as no one is the definitive authority on what we should look for in a film, there can be no absolute answer.
Having said that, it's unlikely that anyone who knows a little or more about film history would deny that "Citizen Kane" is an important film, not just because it was technically groundbreaking, but also due to its immeasurable influence on many of the most beloved and admired filmmakers there ever were, and to how firmly it has asserted its position as a constant reference point to those who write and talk about movies. However, it's debatable what exactly makes it great. One could argue that it's the epitome of an auteur's work, but then again, a lot of movies fit that description, and there might be people who question the validity of the auteur theory (the fact that one of the people who invented it, Jean-Luc Godard, has gone on record saying that the term was only coined because the "Cahiers" critics wanted to call attention to themselves doesn't help).
I suspect that the main reason why "Citizen Kane" is practically universally considered the greatest film of all time is that so many people just plain love it. It tells a story that has compelled, touched and haunted countless viewers, and it has done so in a way (both technically and structure-wise) that has absorbed and hypnotized them. The fact that it still manages to thrill viewers is testament to the notion that the filmmaking on display did not merely seem fresh and new at the time, but that it grew out of a deep understanding of how a viewer's thoughts and emotions can be guided.
My favorite movie is Sam Mendes' "American Beauty". When people ask me why, I never know where to start. For example, I love the dialogue. Alan Ball has some mysterious talent (evidenced also by his work on "Six Feet Under") for writing dialogue that is nuanced, witty, polished, and yet comes across as completely effortless and believable. I can't put my finger on what it is that makes the tone of it so irresistible to listen to, but I know that it makes me laugh and feel for the characters who speak it, and it often gives me goosebumps. Also crucial, of course, is who the characters are played by. Kevin Spacey puts enough distance between the things he says on the one hand and the way he says them and the look in his eyes on the other to constantly draw us in with the question of what exactly is occuring in his inner world. I love Annette Bening in the role of a cold, tense, superficial robot of a woman who doesn't annoy us with her cold surface more than she evokes our pity for the once happy, lively spirit that years of boredom and disappointment have worn away. Wes Bentley and Thora Birch are perfect as the disturbed teenagers who find solace in each other, and Chris Cooper and Mena Suvari not only do a terrific job of building an image of strength and superiority (him of a distinctly male kind, her a distinctly female), but create a moving portrayal of the wounds, the insecurities and the torments that these conceal. All the characters are cynical, weary, angry and at times even seem downright spiteful, and yet all of them are, in their own way, looking for beauty and love in their lives, and the movie never fails to produce a tingle down my spine when it starts to make this evident.
Then there are the amazing visuals, with the cinematography by Conrad L. Hall creating a hypnotic texture of light and darkness that makes the ordinary look breathtaking. And I love the score by Thomas Newman (one of the film industry's great artists), with its sad, profoundly affecting melodies and exotic touches.
And then, of course, there's the ending, which is the most stunning of any movie I have ever seen. The different story strands are brilliantly interwoven, the editing, music and camera movements create a perfect cinematic flow, and the voice-over speech manages to be both optimistic and unbearably heartbreaking, and countless other things, at the same time. Kevin Spacey's character describes how a certain feeling "flows through [him] like rain", and that describes exactly how the whole movie, and the ending in particular, works on me.
Above all I love how I can talk about the movie endlessly (and I have, for years), and it never seems to get old. I still feel that I haven't understood exactly what makes it so stunning.
It is, in my opinion, the greatest film I have ever seen. The reason? The reason is that it blows me away like no other movie does, and that's that. "Citizen Kane" may be more important, more influential, more groundbreaking, more anything anyone can think of, but as much as I love it - and I really do - I don't think I will ever concede that it demonstrates the extent of what the movies can do to us more effectively than "American Beauty".
For 13 years now, I've answered the "Favorite Movie" question with The Usual Suspects and I suspect I always will for the rest of my life for one critical reason. It is the movie that made me love movies. It elevated me from movie "fan" to movie "lover". It advanced me from casual movie watcher to someone who digests great movies, soaks up the ambiance, savors juicy dialogue, considers not just what a good director put on the screen but what he didn't put on the screen. I now experience an unbridled, child-like joy when discovering a new connection, insight, or layer inside a good film.
I grew up in the 80s and hardly ever paid any attention to pre-80s movies. This movie made me love movies, look deep inside the structure, narrative, and perspective. Without it, I would have never discovered Casablanca, Sunset Blvd, Bridge on the River Kwai, The Big Sleep, The Maltese Falcon, The Godfather, On the Waterfront, Chinatown, etc. etc.
This is why I don't think it will ever loose it's place as my favorite if I live to be 110 years old. It is a reflection not so much on the greatness of itself as a single work but it's effect of opening the door to so many wonderful visual and literary experiences I would have missed otherwise.
If there is a better definition of "favorite movie" I'd like to see it.
Ah, the favorite movie question. I tend to make a separation between "films" and "movies". Aliens2 is a great movie, but probably not a great film. The Searchers is a great film that is a great movie. For me, Persona is a great film that is not a great movie, meaning, that while I can appreciate the art involved, I don't really enjoy it.
My favorite film is probably Citizen Kane, for the reasons Mr. Ebert cited. My favorite movie is a guilty pleasure - Big Trouble in Little China. There's some "film" in that movie, or at least one heck of a lot of genre, but it doesn't really aspire to become art. What it does aspire to be - quirky, funny, genre bending fun - it fulfills completely.
I too, associate the watching of that movie with a particular time in my life. I happened to see it at the Post Theater of Grafonweohr Training Area, with a couple of hundred of other soldiers who had just come in from several days of training in the field. No movie has perhaps ever had a more appropriate audience, that was ever more starved for entertainment. The experience of watching a movie that was so truly enjoyed and appreciated by an audience has never been exceeded, before or since, and I'm one of those people that stood in line on the first day to see both The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi.
There are better films, and better movies. I, like another reader, love Groundhog Day, which is arguably a better film and movie than "Big Trouble". Even so, "Big Trouble in Little China" will probably always be my favorite movie...
With all due respect, your blog title still reads '"What's your favorite move?" by Roger Eberton'. Sorry to be a stickler.
Hope you're feeling well.
Ebert: Only on Explorer, which is why I couldn't see it on Firefox. It has been fixed.
Correction:
All of your blog titles read "by Roger Eberton". I must be missing something...
Dear Mr. Ebert,
How does one respond to such clarity?
Growing up in the '70's I was exposed to one powerful film after another. I love film. I remember seeing Chinatown, A Clockwork Orange, Patton, MASH, The Godfather(s), One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, The Deer Hunter, Apocalypse Now, Network, Star Wars, and The French Connection.
But what does a young woman find in these films to connect to personally? She turns to literature.
Best: Night and Fog--the combination of archival Black and White Holocaust footage with color footage of the Death Camps shot just ten years later--along with an amazing sound track and voice over spoken by a survivor of the Holocaust reduces me to tears and sorrow each time I see it.
Others: The Decalogue, BladeRunner, The Passion of Jean of Arc, Duck Soup, Miracle of Morgan's Creek, Contempt, The Piano Teacher, The Big Lebowski, Touch of Evil, The Trial (Welles), The Impossible Itself (my documentary ;).
I always assumed your favorite movie was A Hard Day's Night. A strong affection for that film seems to come through in several of your articles.
Avoiding the "favorites" argument is understandable, because declaring a favorite almost always results in having to also declare and defend the reason WHY the film in question is a favorite. Despite this, I admit I have thee films that I consider favorites -- but only because I have no other way to describe the impact they've had on me. For as long as I can remember, I've been stuck on the three films that I saw in the theater before the age of five: Yellow Submarine, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and Fantasia. I know that two of the three are on your Great Films list -- perhaps they've stayed with me all these years because they truly are great films. But no other film I've seen since then -- with the possible exception of Amadeus -- has even come close to those three in commanding my attention. Whenever I see them being broadcast or displayed on a monitor somewhere, I find myself pausing to watch them, no matter that I've seen all of them countless times. I don't know why, exactly, they still have that effect on me. It must be because they're my favorites.
Mr. Ebert,
Your wonderful movie reviews, essays and commentaries have continued to enlighten me time and time again about the true magic of the motion picture.
I’ve often wondered your most asked about question, too — The Greatest Movie vs. Your Favorite Movie.
As a novice movie lover, I don’t think I have the breadth of experience to suggest a Greatest Movie. However, I do create personal favorite genre lists and place movies in chronological order within each respected category. But, I simply do that for fun, because — after all — movies make me feel good about life.
My Favorite Movie of All-Time would have to be “Forrest Gump.” It truly is a modern day epic film. I can relate to its many themes and emotions: heartache, loss, loyalty, military service during a time of war, growing up in the south, triumph, and — of course — pure joy.
I saw it for the first time in a crowded movie theater during the summer of ’94. My mother dropped me and my date off at the theater’s front steps. It was my first time on a date. I was excited. After the movie, I received my first-ever kiss, what an experience that was for a 14-year-old kid, let me tell you! Life was like a … well, you know the rest.
Ever since my brother bought it on video (yes, before the great DVD craze of the late 1990’s), I’ve made it an effort to view it once a year.
It grows on me with each repeated viewing. At times in my life, I’ve felt like a simpleton, not knowing my A-hole from my elbow, but I’ve learned that with hard work and perseverance, anything and all things can be accomplished.
The film has been acknowledged in many pop culture references, and it’s often quoted. Its quotes are uttered by moviegoers and fans alike. My favorite quote is not its most popular one (we all know which one that is … box of chocolates anyone?). The quote that sums up the movie for me is, “Jenny, I may not be a smart man, but I do know what love is.”
I’ve often said I’m not a smart man, but I do have a lot of love in my heart.
Again, I wish you continued success in your recovery efforts and better health with every passing day.
Your Friend,
Carlos :-)
Of all the movies I have seen in all of my years, the one I reach for fastest, is Lion in Winter with Katharine Hepburn and Peter O'Toole. These two actors create Eleanor of Aquitaine and Henry the II in a most wonderful way. They battle, they roar and still love each other.
The story is intelligent and witty. Further, you can see Anthony Hopkins in his first picture as one of their sons. If you haven't seen it, give it a look.
Thanks, Roger, for this end-of-the-week discussion that is interesting, and very much fun.
Every year I go through and evaluate my seven favorite films and albums, and seventeen favorite songs, just so that when I look back 40 years from now and track my tastes to then, I'll be surprised at the evolution.
If I had to say right now what my favorites are, I would have to include The Three Colors Trilogy, Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, Before Sunrise (which I saw just recently and it charmed me so much, as I could see parallels in my life through that movie), Ikiru, and tie between Amarcord and Day For Night. There are moments from all of those movies that I'll find just come to me throughout my day, and I daydream into those worlds they created for me. That's been my criteria for a great movie- a movie that sticks with me days, weeks, months afterward.
My friends and acquaintances often say that their favorite movies was the most recent "big" blockbuster movie that in all likelihood were often at best mediocre, more often than not horrible movies. I often try to get them to read your Great Movies collection, or have them watch Bergman or Kurosawa or Truffaut, but more often than not they turn their noses up to these "pretentious and elitist" films and go for their mediocre and horrible. It pains my as a cinephile that they do this, but if they like something of lesser quality, be my guest...
Ebert: Many of you have written to insist that the byline "Roger Eberton" appears on my blog entries. I denied it. Turns out the problem was with Explorer, which is why I couldn't see it on Firefox. Our web chief writes me: "OK, it's fixed. The template was coded correctly--there was a space after the name field--but IE was choosing to ignore it. I put in the code for an html space, and it looks OK in both browsers now."
Firstly, let me say that I couldn't agree more with your view that films don't change but people do. So many films have had increased relevance to me personally as I've grown-up. But do you realize that this statement undermines your entire profession as a film critic? Allow me to explain my opinion. Film is such a powerful, wide-reaching art form that it often takes time to appreciate the work of the artist. Many films require multiple viewings to understand, this on top of a lengthy "digestion period". Critics will often negatively review a film, then years later, after fully absorbing what the movie intended, they will deem it "ahead of its time." You did this yourself with "Reservoir Dogs", hacking it to pieces when it came out then proclaiming it your video pick of the week 10 years later. Because you didn't take to it right away, does that mean the public isn't ready for it either? Many people at Cannes seemed ready for it. By you giving it thumbs down, many didn't bother to go see it, but who is to say they wouldn't have gotten as much out of it as you got out of "Pulp Fiction" two years later. In my opinion, both films erupt with the joy of filmmaking that Tarantino took from the French New Wave and ran with. If anything, there is more depth to "Dogs", dealing with friendship and trust, themes that can be transposed to everyday life. If a film as monumental as "Citizen Kane" were to come out today, drastically changing film's conventions , it is likely that critics would not take to it immediately, as many didn't take to "Kane". Extreme change isn't always welcome, and without the dampening blow of "Reservoir Dogs", perhaps critics wouldn't have enjoyed "Pulp Fiction" to such a fantastic degree. But because a person has an initial guttural reaction to a film does not mean that they can pin that reaction to the film in the form of a lasting, permanent review. Sometimes that horrible gut feeling a film produces is because the film is so good, and this can be realized if one examines why they feel how they feel. You've lambasted such films as "A Clockwork Orange" and "Blue Velvet" because of how terrible they made you feel. Isn't that what the directors wanted the audience to feel? Therefore isn't the film a success? Any film that can elicit strong debate and emotion must have some value, but by telling people they shouldn't see it because it isn't worthy of a thumbs-up, you are robbing people of that debate and emotion. In my opinion, film should hold a certain level of ambiguity and the best films should stir lasting debates. Maybe Gene Siskel talked you into seeing "Blue Velvet" again and maybe you looked at it differently given his opinion, but you certainly can't go back on your word, if that scenario were to have occurred. Sometimes it takes someone else's changing something in us to understand a film in terms that can relate to our personalities. Have you ever given thought to these things? Have you ever felt bad for panning a movie you later grew to love, realizing that perhaps your negative review took away the potential for that film to succeed financially? I just feel that film criticism should explicitly stat that this is one man's opinion and it could change, because many people don't understand that. They think that if you didn't like a film, it is unequivocally bad, but that is not the case. As you said, people change, so to do their opinions.
Ebert: I wouldn't call a 2.5-star review "hacking it to pieces." In fact, I think my review is not inaccurate, and the opening sentence is dead-on. IMHO a lot of people missed the boat on "Jackie Brown."
The Treasure of the Sierra Madre
Network
2001: A Space Odyssey
12 Angry Men
There Will Be Blood
Clearly none of "you people" have ever seen The Big Sleep. An absolute joy to cinema in the best genre, noir. Now that's my favorite movie. Technically speaking, The Third Man or even No Country for Old Men or The Thin Red Line are just about flawless. Apocalypse Now is my pick for the greatest film ever, but like many of you people have mentioned, there are dozens of others that have a legitimate claim to the throne. When you look at the medium, it's hard to argue that anyone can better a film than 2001, Apocalypse Now, Persona, or a number of other films. But for personal best, The Big Sleep is best (unless I just finished Five Easy Pieces, Chinatown, Big Trouble in Little China, California Split, Pulp Fiction, Nashville, Broadway Danny Rose, Barry Lyndon, Scarecrow, The Last Detail, Young Frankenstein, Out of Sight, Taxi Driver, Repo Man, Vertigo, Once Upon a Time in the West, Ride the High Country, Unforgiven, Million Dollar Baby, The Graduate, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, The Wild Bunch, Bad Day at Blackrock, Strangers on a Train, Pickpocket, Casablanca, King of New York, The Verdict, The Hustler, Wild Strawberries, To Live and Die in LA, etc).
When you people refer to your "moment" watching films, then mine would have to be when I was eleven years old watching Pulp Fiction as Sam Jackson gives his shepherd speech to Tim Roth. It's a shame that the "Pulp Fiction lovers" have been hijacked by the "Boondock Saints crowd.
Yes, Mr Ebert, we realize ranking lists are pointless, but they're fun. When someone asks "what's your favotite flick," give them a whole list. Your "top" film of the moment might totally miss the person asking, while your #2-20 movies could cause a connection.
I detest the wizard of oz, I have tried to watch it in adulthood (I hated it as a child as well) and I physically turn nauseous and it causes me to have a headache. Without the ailments, gone with the wind is just as bad, but atleast technically better looking.
Citizen Kane, a movie I've seen and studied a good 25 times, is NOT the greatest movie of all time just like the '72 Dolphins are NOT the greatest football team ever. It's the culturally modified response. Great, yes, but there ARE better movies out there.
The Departed is not one of Scorsese's 10 best movies. And Taxi Driver is better than Raging Bull, but I'd rather watch The Last Waltz; I'm an idiot right?
Mr. Ebert,
This question is not directly related to the subject, but I just have to make this strange plea since you mentioned you're at Toronto:
Please put up a review for The Wrestler! Or at least mention something about it!
I'm very curious about the style Aronofsky is using for the movie because everyone has so far indicated that he dropped his hip-hop montages and clever sight gags. Does this mean his typical sense of framing and rhythm have also changed? And also he seems to have dropped his cinematographer Matthew Libatique. Interestingly, IMDB indicates that Aronofksy will return to Libatique with his next movie, "The Fighter." Will that mean he returns to his former style of shooting or will Libatique adapt to the new Aronofsky?
I personally find Aronofsky and Paul Thomas Anderson to be part of the highest echelon of New American Cinema and both have seemingly evolved with their latest work.
I humbly beg you, Mr. Ebert, just a few words!
I have always distinguished between greatest film, and favorite film. The greatest film I have ever seen is 2001, but my favorite film is Once Upon a Time in America. I make a point of watching that film once a year.
Psycho is my favorite movie, but it didn't immediately leave that impression. I liked it when I first saw it; I knew, though, that I didn't quite get it. So I watched it again. And again. I watched the commentary. I read your Great Movies piece on it, Mr. Ebert, along with reading many other books about Psycho and Hitchcock - Hitchcock/Trauffaut is fascinating. When the time came to select a project for my senior year in high school, I did an in-depth analysis of the movie, using research from a number of sources.
Anyway, my point is that, having gotten the chance to know Psycho better over the course of a few years, I feel as though I really know it. It still has something to teach me, I'm sure, but I love all the layers I've explored thus far.
Mr. Ebert: You have such a deep relationship with La Dolce Vita (and Citizen Kane, for that matter), fostered by decades of careful viewings. It reminds me of how I adore Psycho and indicates there is more not only to that movie, but to others that we can get to know and love better through seeing again and again.
It makes me feel good to know that it may be many, many, many years, perhaps forever, before I tire of my favorite movie.
Love the blog.
Quote from Tom Pappalardo:
"For my money Jean Renoir edges out Kenji Mizoguchi as best director ever and therefore his supreme masterpiece 'Rules of the Game' wins best picture ever with that as my measuring stick."
Best Director Ever. Best Picture Ever. Serious honors. It was news to me that you bestow them. Is there an application process?
Sorry to single out Tom here, but he is an example of one thread in these comments that I find curious. Where does this desire come from to place films of different periods, genres, and approaches into competition, as though they are all racing down the track at the Movie Olympics?
There must be something about the dense history of film (and also popular music) that leads those who love it to crave a kind of master organization, a grand and authoritative ranking, a profound -order- that might help us make sense of such a dizzying enormity of cultural product. I can't help wondering if this tendency is borne more from the sense that we -haven't- seen every film, than our confidence that we have seen enough films to render such judgments. What if the Best Picture Ever is a film you haven't seen yet?
Auteur theory, compelling as it is at times, also plays into the Olympics model of film criticism. Through the auteur, the work of art is turned into a human, who is then placed in competition with other human-films. Unfortunately, films are inherently collaborative-- hence those pesky long credits at the end-- and attributing them to individuals can be problematic.
Another great entry. I regret that I never watched "La Dolce Vita". You were right to include it in the Ebertfest, since many young people like me may have heard of it but never bothered to watch it.
For me it's almost impossible to pick one particular movie as my favourite. And as you mentioned, our perceptions of movies change with age. I could pick different favourites like "The Movie I can watch a million times and still enjoy ", "The movie that touched my heart" or "The movie that I can identify the most with". And they'd change as I got older.
For now I can only say that "The Girl Who Leapt Through Time" (Toki wo Kakeru Shoujo) is a particularly memorable movie for me. A seemingly simple story with a lot of hidden meanings, that the viewer must unveil.
I recall my parents talking about La Dolce Vita when I was a little girl. If I'm not mistaken, the Catholic Church (or some arm of it)had condemned it when it was first released. My parents weren't Catholics, but they were devout Methodists, and I think seeing it made them feel rather worldly.
Let me echo what many have already noted on this blog, that your writing is wonderful, "with never a false note," I think someone put it.
And I want to agree that you continue to change over the years, as we all do if we're really paying attention. I had never read your reviews until I was in college for the first time in my late forties. During one summer in the university writing lab where I tutored, I found myself with three hours a day, five days a week and fewer students than I had during the regular school year, so I began reading your online reviews on every film I ever remembered seeing. Your earlier reviews were often quite different from the ones you write today. You said in one review that you try to judge a film based on what the film-maker was trying to accomplish when he/she made it, and if that is a relatively recent basis, it probably accounts for some of the difference. There is overall, I was going to say charitable, but that's not right--you never use a whitewash brush to write your reviews--it's a deep appreciation, even gratitude, for all the things good films try to be. Your gorgeously written reviews--and I read all that have four-star ratings, and most that three-and-a-half stars, and load my Netflix queue with the ones that appeal to me; doing this has meant that I rarely see a film I don't like--are literature themselves. No surprise, given your academic background before you became a film critic, and how lucky for us that you did.
You, Garrison Keillor, and those two wonderful brothers on Car Talk have been part of my weekends for so many years that you all seem like members of my extended family.
Be well.
I might have said my favorite movie is "Brokeback Mountain" but after watching it 18 times I finally put it away, it hurt too much to know things would never get better...then Heath died.
Not sure when or if I'll ever be able to look at it again.
Hello Mr. Ebert.
I think that this question is too easy for me. My favourite film, is, was and I'm pretty certain that will be "The Truman Show". I am identified with the character that tries to make a show, a spectacle on his own life, and I get different sensations on each new view.
Maybe it's self determination, imposed stubborness, but I relate inmediatly the film "Truman Show" with me, and that's why (egocentrism aside) I find it so utterly charming.
Hello Mr. Ebert.
I think that this question is too easy for me. My favourite film, is, was and I'm pretty certain that will be "The Truman Show". I am identified with the character that tries to make a show, a spectacle on his own life, and I get different sensations on each new view.
Maybe it's self determination, imposed stubborness, but I relate inmediatly the film "Truman Show" with me, and that's why (egocentrism aside) I find it so utterly charming.
"Goodfellas" is my favorite film because:
1) it inspired me to study film;
2) it changed the way I watched movies.
I generally put "Goodfellas" in a three-way tie with "Taxi Driver" and "Raging Bull". But "Goodfellas" holds a special place with me, probably because I saw it in the movie theater.
Others on my list:
Ikiru (1952, Akira Kurosawa)
Naked (1993, Mike Leigh)
Pulp Fiction (1994, Quentin Tarantino)
Fargo (1996, Joel Coen & Ethan Coen)
Adaptation (2002, Spike Jonze)
Cries and Whispers (1972, Ingmar Bergman)
The Verdict (1982, Sidney Lumet)
Amadeus (1984, Milos Forman)
Magnolia (1999, Paul Thomas Anderson)
Glengarry Glen Ross (1992, James Foley)
Spartan (2004, David Mamet)
Chinatown (1974, Roman Polanski)
After Hours (1985, Scorsese)
Great, great post. I love the story about Gene Siskel.
I have gone through three stages myself (so far, we'll say), on what my 'favorite' movie is. Before I really knew about movies (High School, 2000-ish), I said that Fight Club or The Usual Suspects were my favorite films. But soon I grew out of the part of my life where a twisted third act/ending was enough to elevate a good movie to great.
Until about two months ago I would respond to the question with either 'American Beauty' or 'All About Eve.' Both fantastic, perfect movies that I love enormously. Both very different in tone and subject matter, but still similar in ways of quality -- they both seem to not be extremely innovative (like Citizen Kane or 2001), but possess a perfected refinement of what is already out there. To me personally I prefer extreme polish over innovation. I understand innovation and its importance, but unless I'm witnessing the innovative aspects first-hand (which I am not, since I'm only 22), I prefer to see the pinnacle of the techniques created by the masters.
But all of that aside, what I have recently discovered is that my favorite film is not the best movie, or what I think is the best movie. It came to a point where I realized that my favorite film was the one that could make me happy no matter what was going on in my life. A movie that was truly great and that I would feel ecstatic after watching, regardless of how my life was going. A movie that just thinking of the title gives me a smile. That movie is 'Some Like It Hot.' There's so much good in that movie I won't even begin to detail it. People who have seen it know.... A runner-up is Bridget Jones's Diary, which also always makes me happy. But that's hardly 'favorite movie material.'
Mr. Ebert, I think one of the major things about discussing favorite movies versus best movies, is that I think that there reaches a point where there can be a wide disparity between the two. Certainly I have a love of B. Movies, the ones that are so horrible they're great. No one would call them good movies, but I'll be darned if they aren't fun.
Thinking about my personal favorite movie, there's one that stands above the others for very personal reasons. To preface this, I must state that I share almost no interests with the rest of my family. We're very different. It's one of the main reasons why "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" is my favorite film. Make no doubt about it, I can quote the movie all day, laughing as I do it. That's not why it's so beloved to me. It's the only film where my entire family will drop what we're doing and laugh. Even when there are just clips, we still find a way to get together. That's why the film is my favorite.
I used to think I thought Citizen Kane was the best movie ever, but I’ve come to realize that as much as I both enjoy and admire it, there are movies I enjoy and admire more. Kane’s merits are obvious, but I don’t feel as emotionally attached to it as to other great movies. I think that may be exactly why it is such a tempting answer to the "best movie" question. No explanation as personal or subjective as the one Roger provided for La Dolce Vita is necessary to justify choosing Citizen Kane. But why are movies or any art form appealing if not for personal reasons?
For me, the best film ever is Grave of the Fireflies. I’ll never forget the first time I saw it, and the surge of emotion it inspired. Yet unlike many I know who say that after seeing it once they could never watch it again, I have found subsequent viewings rewarding. At the start of the movie the protagonist dies, is reborn, and returns to beginning of his journey all over again. The movie is something like "samsara" and repeated viewings drive the point home.
That can be tough medicine though. It’s obvious the "best" movies are not always our favorites, but can a movie be both truly great and yet difficult to watch? I’ll watch Grave of the Fireflies again, but The Seventh Seal? Never.
I'm only 16, so my favorite movie is relatively new. It's "The Hours" and most people don't remember it but I like for the same reason you like "La Dolce Vita." It's like looking into a mirror, but the only difference is women and time periods. Since I'm so young, I don't understand why "La Dolce Vita" and "Citizen Kane" are "great." The only thing that really stuck with me in "Kane was the great cinematography that only a black and white can have. And "La Dolce" was sort of boring (sorry). As for now I only have one favorite film because everytime I see a Bergman movie, I feel like it belongs at the top of every list of favorite films. Maybe later in life I can see what's great about "La Dolce Vita" and "Citizen Kane."
Good grief! Please excuse my horrible typo above, Roger. I had meant to write La Dolce Vita and I somehow wrote 8 1/2 because I had just watched it again. My two favorite Fellini movies were obviously getting mixed up in my brain.
I also wanted to add that I would love to read an interview with Anita Ekberg conducted by you. I really love her and she's 77 now but she hasn't made a movie for 10 years (as far as I know). Maybe you could coax her into an online chat?
I sometimes wonder what the MTV Movie Awards meant by its Best Movie Award. Did they really mean best as in "excellent"? Or did they mean best as in "most crowd-pleasing"? Obviously, what we're seeing here is a play of semantics. However, this does prove that there is no one standard for "Best," and that even this term is relative. If we put this concept in the context of spacetime, the significance of the matter further complicates because what we really mean by "Best" is really "best for now."
I think most people are unaware that movies are, in essence, their friends (or they can be friends). How else do we explain this affinity that we have for certain movies? I know the idea of movies as friends has pathetic overtones, but there you have it. In all cases, affinity is what determines a person's choice of FAVORITE MOVIE(S).
This is also true of choosing BEST MOVIES, though in a much stricter sense (calling for a higher level of clear-headedness than usual). ALL critics choose their BEST MOVIE(S) based on their affinity with a film's intellectual standard, artistic value, taste, and most important of all, profundity and/or morality. One cannot choose a "best movie" unless he/she feels the resonance, this impact of affinity. After all, critics aren't only supposed to be critics for critiquing's sake. They must also be able to represent the best of what humanity is to be a truly effective.
Hi there,
This is an interesting discussion. Let me take a bit of a twist on it...what movie would you want to make sure others saw? (I know that part of that answer lies in defining who those others are.) I teach a general psychology course that is co-taught along with American film (and Composition). We select a number of films that demonstrate specific psychology concepts (like schizophrenia in 'A Beautiful Mind' and memory in 'Memento'). Anyway, one of my favorites fits the bill. I can think of few movies that move me more than Frank Capra's "It's a Wonderful Life". We chose this movie because of how the protagonist (James Stewart as George Bailey, as if you didn't know) deals with stress. Plus, it is a classic that too few of my college freshman have seen. I get choked up every time, as it shows how our lives matter and are entertwined. I love this movie and never tire of it.
I think your distinction between "favorite" and "greatest" is right on. For what it's worth, I have settled on "Marathon Man", when asked.
Certain films I turn to in distress, when I feel my mind or liberty threatened - "Scent of a woman", "Glengarry Glenross" and "The Godfather I & II". Pacino seems to labour under the weight of the world and come out fighting. In any free society there are systems of oppression surrounding the oases. When I walk in the freer world I am drawn to the pretty and the romantic but when I am under siege I look for warriors to inspire me to survive.
As you've said before, the greatest movies, like the greatest of all art, not only entertain and impress us with their craft, but enlighten us. They fill us with joy, wonder and empathy about the world and other people. They make us glad to be alive, and there are few experiences I enjoy more than sitting in a movie theater with goosebumps - knowing that I'm in the presence of a truly great film. That's why my favorite movie for over 20 years has been 2001: A Space Odyssey. I've never seen a more fascinating, believable science-fiction film that filled me with awe about outer space and mankind's place in the universe. Similar experiences that have given me goosebumps include Ikiru, My Dinner With Andre, and Gates of Heaven -to name just a few. These films make me glad to be a part of the human race, and it makes me happy to know there are other kindred spirits who seek connection and feel the same as I do.
As for your comments about La Dolce Vita, I have had a similiar experience with Citizen Kane. The first time I saw it, it was a brilliant museum piece - more to be admired than loved. But a funny thing happened as I rewatched Kane througout the years. I grew to love Citizen Kane - not only for it's superb technical genius and structure, but for the story, which I find resonates for me more each time I see it. (The scene with Susan Alexander in bed, wanting to give up her singing career - while Kane is determined to fight on - is one of the most moving scenes in film I've come across. It didn't strike me this way initially, but as I grow older I am better able to empathize with what both Alexander and Kane are feeling.) Every time I watch Citizen Kane, I ask "Is this the best film of all time?" and every time I am more convinced that it's the best one that I've seen. As you correctly said about La Dolce Vita, great movies remain the same, but your understanding and relationship with them grows over time - which is possibly the greatest compliment you can give high art.
Thanks for the blog and all the great writing :)
I didn't really get "Kane" and I love classic movies, so I will need to see it again. For me it's got to be a tie between "The Searchers" and "Apocalypse Now". I seem to gravitate towards films where there is some form of searching for something, literal and figurative. The opening scene of "The Searchers" is perfect, the ambiguity of Wayne's Ethan Edwards is clearly Oscar worthy and his best role. "Apocalypse Now" comes from a great premise and is a beautiful film. Mr. Ebert I think you are more of a Keaton fan but I would also throw in here most anything by Chaplin, sorry.
The truth is I borrowed "La Dolce Vita" from the library once and didn't watch it; that is to say I started to watch it, noted the extraordinary opening photography, and then grew bored. I had better luck with some other Fellini films, which on the surface probably have less relevance to me. I rented it again today specifically because Roger Ebert has repeated himself so many times I was finally worn down, and I watched it, again appreciating the photography, especially the elegant sense of movement and change, and then gave up after about the first forty minutes. It is not that I think it is a bad film or that I am incapable of enjoying it, it is simply that in terms of relevance it is not very high in priority. It is only Ebert's consistent advocacy that got me this far.
I noted the tender seduction of Marcello by simply being there and being sympathetic, the classical blonde and bosomy heroine, the refusal to be reductive about celebrities and the fact that the outsiders with their cameras are the only ones viewed with satire. The journalists recieve shallow answers from Sylvia but these are the answers they deserve. I get it. I can see how someone could be seduced by it, to spend their whole lives in a similar fashion. I get the parallax of time, the value of viewing the same object from different angles and finding it different. For whatever reason it doesn't quite hold my gaze. I have things to do. I went for a walk.
At first I tried to view the film with studied seriousness but after a little while I came to realise this is incorrect, and that it is like a circus or carnival, where one is bound to miss a lot whilst seeing a lot. The purpose of Hollywood and its foreign counterparts is to allow certain people to remain children forever, to keep their ability to play and have fun, attend parties and have no responsibilities. To a law student spending his life mummified inside tight bandages, the freedom of Hollywood is a necessary siphon, containing everything the law lacks and needs. The law is skeletal and has no face. Hollywood is all face. Whatever is beneath it is none of our concern.
Treated on its own, the film industry is to me like a courtroom with a defence counsel but no prosecutor. This way of life should need no defence, and yet, the fact that it is so consistently and gushingly offered suggests something is missing at its heart. Thinking of this film described as spiritual, what I have seen thus far of it, I found myself wanting to forgive you for the life you have chosen, knowing also that it is something that does not require forgiveness. I cannot defend these feelings: I don't even understand them. All I can do is record them, for whatever they are worth.
I have studied film for some time in England, I have done shot-to-shot analysis of many crucial films of the past like "Battleship Potemkin", "Metropolis". These films are important inside the political, ideological dynamic they were created.
A healthy human mind is one that keeps moving on in a progressive fashion. What i mean to say is that what "Citizen Kane" was to me when I watched it 10 years ago, is totally different from what it will be if i watch it right now. That is because I've changed.
Then again if I watch a film alone or with company, I engage in different psychological practices. You can't be too relaxed if there's someone else in the room. That's the nature of things. I believe I have watched more than 10,000 films and I'm only 29. I have a huge collection. I believe it's more of a ritual right now, a habit like smoking.
I think cinema is dead because the same themes and ideological spaces are repeated again and again. But the habit can live on forever. Therefore, I can sit down in my comfort chair and go through another story, but it won't change my life they way "Battleship Potemkin" would do in '20s Russia, it will just be a reason for watching another star performance, or a reason to go for a beer after the film and discuss about some thoughts. In my view cinema is dead because its political impact is no longer broad, because it loses itself inside lonely rooms, illegal copies and the new ways in which we are learning to consume products.
Roger, years ago I used to e-mail you with some regularity, and to my amazement and delight you often replied. At one point I asked you to recommend a book---you answered "About life? River Out Of Eden." Not only did you suggest a great read, but, more importantly, through you I was introduced to Dawkins. (Thanks for that.) I know you are extremely well-read, and as much as I enjoyed this post, I'd love to see a What's Your Favorite Book? blog---even if your answer is a variation on I don't know.
My favorite film is 12 Angry Men. My favorite book? Probably A Fan's Notes.
Ebert: My favorite book? The plays of Shakespeare.But is that cheating? I love "A Fan's Notes."
I'm not sure if Mr. Ebert is still reading comments by this point, but this comment is a desperate plea. This year's TIFF has just kicked off. Last night I saw the North American premiere of what I'm sure will rapidly become one of my favorite films of all time. But I'm afraid, in part based on tepid reviews from Venice, that it will be somewhat overlooked by film critics (and I think I understand why). The movie is Guillermo Arriaga's The Burning Plain starring Charlize Theron, Kim Basinger, and Jennifer Lawrence in yet another breakout performance for a young actress in a film penned by Arriaga (I'm thinking Rinko Kikuchi). One critic says this movie is great writing but there's nothing new here so it's a step backward. But unless I've totally missed something in Arriaga's previous writing credits there is lots that's new here and lots that gives more insight into what it is that makes Amorres Perroes, 21 Grams, The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada, and Babel work (and that beside the multi-tiered plot structure - Arriaga's post film q&a, I should admit, was enormously enlightening). If I'm not careful I'll end up writing a full review ... So let me just plead with you, Mr. Ebert, if you get to the point where you plan to write anything less than a four star review, please rewatch it with the crop duster seen in mind. It's a stunning reference to North by Northwest where what's most stunning of all is what's missing. But what's missing in the scene reference is ingeniously supplied by the major plot line of the entire film. Arriaga is no Alejandro Gonzales Inarittu when it comes to directing, but who is? It is unfortunate that the stories of their young careers makes it inevitable that Arriaga will suffer by comparison to the collaborator with whom he's had a falling out. If this were a first time feature in any other circumstance, I can't imagine it not getting the rave reviews that it so justly deserves.
My favorite film of all time changes with each day I wake up in the morning. Today happens to be Blade Runner because I fell asleep with the Vangelis score playing last night. I woke up feeling like a million dollars.
I inundate all of my spare time with movies, and have decided it impossible to create that ultimate list (no matter how much I love to craft lists on my Macbook Sticky pad). I remember back to my week not by dates, or specific events that occurred, or even the meals I consumed, but by what great film I watched on what particular day. I will refresh my memory here for a moment. Monday it was 'Barry Lyndon'. Tuesday 'Solaris'. Wednesday 'Come and See' (I have never heard you mention this great Russian masterpiece, by the by...) Thursday 'l'Eclisse'. Friday 'Naked'. Saturday 'Ran'. Sunday... What did I do on Sunday? I watched three films, one was so bad I cannot even recall (It is acceptable to allow some lesser films to seep in, or even Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares.. I think the film in question was 'Swing Kids', which had to be switched off after half an hour). The two I remember clearly from Sunday were 'Withnail and I' and 'Le Fils'. Funny thing is though, I don't even remember what I ate for lunch yesterday. But I could tell you that in June, on the second Friday of the month, I was curled with my girlfriend on our sofa watching 'Chloe in the Afternoon' and already wondering what to pick up from the videostore later that evening. And we rented Blade Runner that night!
Of course I started thinking of my favorite movies, my top ten. I think it's easier when one's area of expertise is somewhere else (I have a similar difficulty picking my favorite kind of orgasm). The Cuckoo (Kukushka), Kung Fu Hustle, Pan's Labyrinth, Stage Beauty, 12 Monkeys, Spirited Away and Cocteau's Beauty and the Beast are my favorite movies. With the exception of 12 Monkeys, every one of those movies I saw specifically because you recommended it, and I'm quite certain I would not have seen those movies otherwise. So you, sir, are my favorite movie.
As a woman, I cannot help but think that your first impression of La Dolce Vita was the best one.
While drawing up best film lists, I think it is important to distinguish between pure movies and plays that masquerade as movies.
For instance, how do you even start comparing a Hitchcock with a Woody Allen? The latter is ofcourse a great script writer and a wonderful commentator on modern western civilization. Whereas the former, who never took a writing credit, was primarily a great visual artist who subscribed to the 'content doesn't matter' dictum.
Also, I think films made before the revocation of Hays code and the counter-culture of the late sixties are in many ways fundamentally different from movies made in later periods. The constraints imposed by the production code and the studios did render movies less 'realistic' and perhaps a little stilted. However, that shouldn't be held against studio-era classics.
Also, the change in western culture over the last eighty years has been so drastic that it is hard to appraise movies with a common yardstick. I often wonder if there is a market today for a literate screenplay like 'The Philadelphia Story' or 'The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp'.
My all-time favorite movie is Scorsese's underrated "The King of Comedy." I know there are more profound and visually accomplished films out there (i.e., most of Scorsese's other work) but this film has been a source of endless fascination for me since I first saw it at 8 years old. (I'm 33 now.) There's just something about this dark, twisted masterpiece that touches me deep within my soul, but I can't quite figure out what it is. I think I'm drawn mostly to the fact that Scorsese took four of the most unlikable characters ever committed to film and figured out a way to make their story so compelling. The performances are outrageously good. (Jerry Lewis is absolutely brilliant, and every time I watch the film, I almost forget that's De Niro as Rupert Pupkin.) And that ending! Mindblowing in 1983, it only looks more prescient as the years go by. To me, the whole film is like watching a train wreck unfold. I'm horrified by what I'm seeing, but damn it all, I can't look away.
Funny enough, my favorite film of 2007 was "There Will Be Blood", which featured another very difficult protagonist. I guess the audacity of Scorsese and P.T. Anderson to make entire films about such people -- and pull them off -- just appeals to my extremely cynical view of humanity.
Beautiful article as always. I'm surprised you didn't take Casablanca over La Dolce Vita (I too remeber your comment on Bogie's flick), but I think it's because to take a favorite film of all time depends on what that movies stirs inside you at your current train of thought. I think I agree with dr. dave's comment --the question people should ask you is what movie we would want our kids or grandkids (aka future generations) watch in the future and truly appreciate a work of art. Would you agree?
I have to say Shashank, hands down, followed, in that order and with no meaningful distance in places: Casablanca, Kane, Seven Samurai and La Vita E Bela (Roberto Benigni's).
Yes, my life is incomplete -- I have yet to see La Dolce Vita.
Surprised not to see a mention of Gates of Heaven, which is one of my favorite films, and which I would not have heard of had it not been for Mr. Ebert. Always thought it was your on Top 10.
Animated films don't often make top ten lists, but Pinocchio is certainly in my top ten. "Hi diddlely dee, an actor's life for me." And "What's Opera Doc" may be the most perfect film ever made.
Like you, I find what I can call a 'favorite' film constantly shifting. And I also tend to just have directors whose bodies of work I cherish more than having individual all time favorites. Though I guess 2001 is a fairly solid go-to 'favorite' movie for me because it is simultaneously the most profound spiritual experience I've had as well as the most profoundly visual experiences I can think of.
And I also can unabashedly call Citizen Kane one of my very favorites, and I somewhat resent the concept that it is only a showcasing of technique. It's a powerful artistic statement, too. Though Welles' later films are arguably richer in many respects. But Kane was also one of the movies that showed me how much I loved the medium. To quote Truffaut, when I saw it I knew I had never loved another person like I had loved that movie. I felt a similar way about 2001 when I saw it not long thereafter.
But I realize the more films I see and the more films I come to love it gets harder and harder to think of an absolute all time favorites list.
Oh am I a knucklehead. When I was reading Roger's piece on this I was half way out the door and doing some browsing to kill the time. As a result I didnt read all of Roger's piece before chiming in with my pick of best movie of all time not paying attention to his distinction of best versus favorite movie. When I came back to read the comments and the rest of his piece then I got what he was getting at. So hopefully I can get a mulligan on this. When out of film critic mode and into what Tom likes mode, its a different perspective. Favorite to my mind means what gave me the most pleasure to watch as opposed to what was the most brilliant film I ever watched. So now that shifts me to adventure films with some good laughs which is my favorite type of movie. This sure wasnt easy to figure out and ended up with a tie. The winners are "Raiders of the Lost Ark" and "The Wild Bunch." However "The Big Sleep" is way too much fun not to include in the discussion as another poster mentioned. A sleeper in this category is "Hondo" with John Wayne which is one of my favorite westerns and I am such a sucker for good westerns. I totally agree with Roger that when it comes to favorite movie its a matter of who, you the movie observer identifies with the most as you get lost in the fantasy.
Favorite films, how ahrd to choose. Your description is beautiful, sir, and I must applaud you. It is the film that you love most (perhaps), and the one you could stand to watch again, at that very moment. It's brilliant.
For me, though, I wouldn't even know. There ar just too many circling around my brain. I would usually say 8 1/2 or Cries and Whispers, two films I feel I understand pretty well. Of course, there are other films I love. The one I loved first, truly loved, was School of Rock. How many days did I sit and watch and watch and watch, over and over again, that film? Then, though, came 2005, when I saw my future ahead of me. I knew right after I saw Sin City that I wanted to make films, and good ones. I didn't want to be one of those directors whose films people know, but who they themselves are not known. I had to make brilliant pieces of work, and Sin City pushed me there. It truly got me INTO movies. I have always loved film, but that was the point when I really CARED about it.
Of course, there are other relevant films. Linklater's Before Sunset, Dazed and Confused, Waking Life, A Scanner Darkly - all great films. I seem to move from director to director, that is, until I went and began to purchase Criterions last year. Now it's eaither 8 1/2, or Cries and Whispers, although Brand Upon the Brain is truly an astonishing work I feel like watching constantly. Those films give me some feeling that I don't get from most modern-day films, save Lost in Translation, or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Both extremely fantastic films).
As you have stated, there are too many films out there to choose just one, and even if you could name a few, the list would go on and on. The fact that one could gain different meanings from the same film repeatedly over a number of years makes that film a true work of art. I should think the entire Antoine Doinel cycle might lend itself to those ideals, but only time will tell.
Savvy
I've been thinking about this since the blog entry was posted.
All (and I do mean all) of the films mentioned in the posts above me have moved or haunted me in some way, and all are worthwhile contributions to the language of film.
This is an intensely personal question, and I've finally come up with an answer:
The Sweet Hereafter.
A lot of films could be argued as objectively "better", but this for me touches on issues that exist at the core of who I am, and deals with themes that are the basic building blocks of me.
three little words: "Touch of Evil"
Your shifting perspective on La Dolce Vita is an excellent example of how one's relationship to a film changes. The other side of the coin would be my experience with the movie Pinocchio, the first movie I ever saw. Age seven, 1971, I wore my First Communion suit to the Paramount, an old and, in my memory's eye, beautiful theater. The trauma I felt as the boys on Pleasure Island started turning into donkeys still affects me when I watch the movie today. No matter how old I am when I see it, I remember being seven.
An impossible question! There is no way for me to choose, given all the different criteria for judging a film. I tend to favor movies that have good scripts and well developed characters--but doesn't every film worthy of the adjective great have those? I also tend to prefer movies that examine small things rather than large, sweeping epics (with of course, any number of exceptions to that "rule").
I used to keep a scrapbook of all the movies I watched. I would cut out the film summaries from the TV guide that came with the Chicago Daily News, paste them into the book and after viewing, I would add my stars underneath. I didn't always agree with those reviews! I wish I still had that scrapbook--I watched a lot of movies as a young girl and teen, most of them black and white pictures.
Since I can't possible choose (American Beauty, Ordinary People, Casablanca, Moonlight Mile, Kind Hearts and Coronets, The Maltese Falcon--I can't go on. I keep thinking of other films and it just devolves into movies I like a whole lot), I will use this space to make a confession.
I have never seen Citizen Kane. This probably gets me kicked off the "serious and thoughtful poster to this blog" list, but so be it. I will tell you why: I have heard about this movie my whole life. Its praises have been sung far and wide, and not just from you, Roger. But here's the thing--have you ever had someone tout a book that you "must read", only to find that you are nodding off by page 2? Or the X that everyone is talking about, raving about etc leaves you cold? So it is with me and Kane. I have no doubt intellectually that this film is all you say it is. I know all about Rosebud and the thinly disguised attack on the Hearst empire etc. I know a lot about the film just from being interested in films. But I am afraid that after all the hype, all the lauds, all the admiration that the thing will fall flat for me. So, I don't "go there."
However, I was swept away by Bergman's Cries and Whispers, so I am now mulling over checking out Kane from the library and giving it a go. I did try once when I was a teen (channel 9's late night movie was a great boon for me), but I gave it up after about 20 minutes. I am somewhat embarrassed to admit this here, but there it is. If it's not too boring or presumptuous, I will post here my thoughts and impressions after watching it.
The one film that I consider a lifelong companion of mine is "Pulp Fiction," if for no other reason than it awakened my desire to be a filmmaker and screenwriter. During spring break of my freshman year in high school, Dad and I made a trip to Indianapolis, and he deposited me at a dingy little theater on the east side of town. I had three Best Picture-nominated films from which to choose, but something about the title of Tarantino's film interested me over "Forrest Gump" and "The Shawshank Redemption." I sat in that darkened theater and felt my young mind being molded by this exciting, frank, character-defining, plot-moving dialogue. The film, its dialogue, characters, music, cinematography, plot structure, attitude, and energy, liberated me to explore the seemingly unlimited ways that a story can be told. And as long as I keep this film close to me, I believe I'll hold onto the sense of freedom that the artist must own.
A year ago I caught up with Roger Mitchell's Venus and while it didn't have a deep impact on me, Peter O'Toole had a line that meant a lot to me. In describing "The Rokby Venus" he says, in his inimitable way, "For most men, a woman's body is the most beautiful thing they will ever see."
Not long ago, I revisited La Dolce Vita and those words came back to me in the scene in the Trevi Fountain. The film never had the deep impact on me that it has had for most people but that scene does because watching Sylvia is, for me, poetry in motion. She is several things at once, both angelic and temptress, an amazingly perfect looking woman, she is seen through the black and white image as ethereal, not of this earth. Anita Ekberg is, for me, a woman, blessed by her maker who seems to have won some strange genetic lottery. For most men, this woman's body represents the most beautiful thing they will ever see. This poem of beauty, of natural perfection, this image I call The Trevi Venus.
I am sure that I have completely missed the entire point of that scene but I see what I see. That's why there can never be a "greatest film". There are the films that have more prominent culture impact, some are funnier, some of deeper, some are moving, some are horrifying. Asked "What movie could I sit down and watch, right now, without hesitation?", the answer would depend on when and what state of mind I was in when asked that question, since my mind and my emotions are not a grounded state. Ask me last night, and I would have said The Godfather. Ask me right now and I might tell you Night of the Hunter. Ask me tomorrow and you'll get an entirely different answer. Movies are a mixture of art, of sugar and spice, of bitter and sweet, no two films are alike and I wouldn't have any interest in the medium if they were. My favorite answer to the question "What is your favorite movie?", I like Julia Roberts. answer "I have about 600 of them". That leaves the field wide open to include all kinds of films and that's as it should be.
Rules of the Game after Citizen Kane? Wow.
I saw it for the first time last summer; on a big screen to boot. I did enjoy it quite a bit though and its influence can definitely be seen throughout the history of film. Actually, now that I think about it, after The Cranes Are Flying, it's probably the one "old" film I saw brand new last year that I still like returning to think about. Maybe I should track down the DVD.
I find it odd how critics' favorite choices are always really "old" movies. On the one hand, it makes sense because there's more time between old movies and the present - that is, for a potentially great movie, an old movie will have more time to prove itself timeless.
But you have to wonder how much critics' all-time favorites will change with new generations. Mr. Ebert I see you were born right after Citizen Kane came out. But what if a future movie critic was born in 1995 right after Pulp Fiction came out - would that be his all time favorite?
I enjoy great movies, seeking out new ones, and thoughtful and emotional movies. But I'm sorry, black and white is boring, and that's a part of me that no one will ever change. As much as I can appreciate b&w cognitively, it hardly ever hits home with me. After all, I was raised with color TV - going b&w is like trading in a Camry for a model-T Ford in order to drive it in for work.
It's great to give different takes on movies new & old. But if you even want to approach the topic of "objectivity" we all have to be cautious of potential generational myopathy (and granted it goes 2 ways). Thankfully there's a whole ton of space somewhere in between "wow this movie really blew my mind" and penning objective declarations.
Mr. Ebert wrote: My favorite book? The plays of Shakespeare. But is that cheating? I love "A Fan's Notes."
Hi Mr. Ebert, one can hardly call that cheating, although The Bard does have a very unfair advantage over the rest.
On a similar note, these past two weeks have seen me become gaga over "Little Dorrit." It has yet to come out in October, but already I expect it to become one of my favorite films. I really can't explain this illogical euphoria, but only hope that I can be forgiven on grounds that it was adapted from Dickens, that it is made up of very fine British actors, that I get to hear once again English in a less diluted form, and that it garnered very high critical ratings (**** from you).
That's favoritism for you.
I'm 50 and i've watched an average of 400 films a year for the least 20 years. I know this is true because my database tells me so. I've seen over 12,000 films that I know about, and many that I don't.
Many films have been watched multiple times and one of the questions that I simply can't get my head around is which is the best versus which is my favorite.
My views on film are respected within my circle of friends and family and when asked I always go for "Kane", "Vertigo" or "2001".
Nagging away in the back of my mind is this question. Are these the films I respect or love?
I have seen all of them at least ten times and all three invoked a muted reaction upon first viewing. With each subsequent "date" my love has grown.
But here's the problem. If thrown away on a desert island my first choices would likely be different. "Taxi Driver", "True Romance", "Psycho", "North By Northwest", "Night Of The Demon" and "Le Grand Bleu" would all be must haves.
In all my life only 30 movies have ever scored 10/10.
Ultimately one's relationships with movies mirrors life. Some of them I respect, a few I love, some I know I should not like but I do and many I tolerate.
That brings me to "Tokyo Story". I've seen it twice and each time it has a profound effect reducing me to a weeping wreck. I both love and respect this japanese masterpiece but have not quite reached the stage where I can say so. May be this is me coming out!
Best wishes
Robert Holloway
For years whenever I told people I majored in film in college I'd always get asked that same question. It always frustrated and perplexed me. I think that asking a person who really loves film about his favorite movie is kind of akin to asking a lawyer what his favorite case was or an avid golfer what his favorite course is. I suppose it's possible to have an answer to those questions as well, but it sort of misses the point. For many of us films are (like other professions or a hobbies) a kind of process that we go through, an activity and an experience. It's this process, of discovering great new films and cherishing old favorites, that matters most.
"Children of Paradise". By far. Port of Shadows, Le Trou, M, Casablanca, Sullivan's Travels, It Happened One Night. THEN Citizen Kane. At least for me. But some nights Suspiria, Dawn of the Dead and Black Sunday/Mask of Satan, and Blind Beast rate higher. Underrated movies like "Seconds" and "The Loved One" might owe to films like Citizen Kane, but I love those every bit as much.
I wish a film critic would just come out and say something like "they don't make great movies like "The Wild Guitar" or "Spider Baby" anymore".
Tootsie. A perfect comedy.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
Unlike Robert in Taiwan, Anna in Switzerland does find The Plays of Shakespeare as a favorite book cheating, but in a good way.
About 9 years ago, I composed a list of my top 300 movies ever. It was a long process, but fun--I had a boring job, and it helped to pass the time. Since that time, my top 10 hasn't changed a bit. (The top 20 has probably changed, but that's another story)
Like you said, movie lists don't really mean all that much in the scheme of things. But perhaps it's that they don't mean anything to anybody but you.
My favorite movie of all time, one that I can watch over and over and over is easily Seven Samurai. To me, that's a perfect film. But is it meant as being the "best" film in my opinion, or the one I enjoy watching the most? I think it's a little of both. But that doesn't apply to the rest of the top 10:
1. Seven Samurai
2. The Bicycle Thief (brilliant in its simplicity)
3. Citizen Kane (film school on screen)
4. Casablanca
5. City Lights
6. Rear Window
7. Modern Times
8. The Godfather
9. Raging Bull
10. Schindler's List
Of those ten, I could probably watch half of them over and over--Seven Samurai, Casablanca, City Lights, Rear Window and The Godfather.
Obviously over the years, having seen a lot more movies, there are a few that could compete for a spot (Shawshank, Breathless, Ikiru), but again, I think the list I've made personally is more of "best" list rather than "most enjoyable to watch" list. I love watching City Slickers, but I know it's not a top 100 best film.
Before I answer your question (thanks by the way), I want to regale you with my own experience of seeing LA DOLCE VITA for the first time. In 2003, the 40th Anniversary of 8 1/2 was being celebrated and in Seattle (where I lived at the time, and am currently staying) there was a "Felliniana" Festival downtown, with Seattle Center showing various Fellini movies. I missed out on the screening of 8 1/2 (which I had, and have since seen again and again), but got to see two rare things: an actual FILM print of ROMA (1972) and a wonderful digital projection of a widescreen Russian DVD import of LA DOLCE VITA! These experiences were invaluable in opening up Federico Fellini's world to me, and I feel that seeing either film on TV/DVD/VHS would've been a shameful underestimation of the films' importance (indeed, the first Fellini I saw was 1970's SATYRICON on VHS on a tiny little TV)...
So now then: that being said, all of the conjecture and opinions and arguing aside, and I know this will make me seem like a real dope, but it took me a long time to discover that film was a truly subjective medium. Thus, "the greatest film" and "your favorite film" are the same, and all that really matters. That being said, it's INCREDIBLY ARDUOUS to try to come up with a definitive favorite movie of all time, or even a top 5 or 10 list (I have trouble even sticking with a solid top 20 or 25 directors at a time!)...
As I believe I stated on a previous blog comment here, my favorite film is probably Paul Thomas Anderson's MAGNOLIA (1999). For the time in my life it represents, a coming-of-age between adulthood (it was the first R-rated film I could see by myself "legally") and adolescence (I was in high school, and my health class had to pair off and carry around flour-sack babies for a couple of weeks; I took mine with me the night MAGNOLIA opened in my local multiplex), the film is quite invaluable to me. When I saw it at the time, the characters portrayed by Tom Cruise and Jason Robards (as an estranged show business dad and his chauvanistic son) were my two least favorites. What I discovered upon repeat viewings was that the characters were not my two least favorites (indeed, I love and care about all the characters now) but in fact were just the two that most reminded me of what I feared my relationship with my dad would become. He'd left my mom around that time, and we weren't talking/seeing one another as much, and I became worried that I would grow to hate him and miss him (equally) so much that I might someday find myself at his deathbed, cursing and crying at the same time (like Cruise does near the end of Anderson's great film).
All of these personal details are in addition to the film's obvious technical prowess: its roving camerawork and dazzling editing, its pounding Aimee Mann soundtrack, its astonishing scale and the depth of its Altman-esque connections among many seemingly disparate (and desperate) characters in the San Fernando Valley, and all distilled down to such a short (if drawn-out at 3 hours) timeline!
I could name any number of films I've enjoyed and/or watched as many times or less than MAGNOLIA: Anderson's BOOGIE NIGHTS, Scorsese's GOODFELLAS, CASINO, AFTER HOURS, Oliver Stone's NIXON, NATURAL BORN KILLERS, Spike Lee's DO THE RIGHT THING, SUMMER OF SAM, Almodovar's ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER, TALK TO HER, Whit Stillman's METROPOLITAN, THE LAST DAYS OF DISCO, Robert Altman's NASHVILLE, GOSFORD PARK, A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION, Alex Proyas' DARK CITY, the Coen Brothers' FARGO, MILLER'S CROSSING, BARTON FINK, THE BIG LEBOWSKI, BLOOD SIMPLE, George Armitage's GROSSE POINTE BLANK, Brian De Palma's SISTERS, FEMME FATALE, and/or Kevin Smith's CHASING AMY, David Lynch's MULHOLLAND DR., BLUE VELVET, LOST HIGHWAY, THE STRAIGHT STORY, INLAND EMPIRE, Bryan Singer's THE USUAL SUSPECTS, Erick Zonca's THE DREAMLIFE OF ANGELS, Michael Mann's THE INSIDER, Jean-Pierre Jeunet's AMELIE, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu's AMORES PERROS, 21 GRAMS, and BABEL, not to mention Woody Allen, whose oeuvre always puts a smile on my face (even when it's dramatic in turns): CRIMES & MISDEMEANORS, HANNAH & HER SISTERS, DECONSTRUCTING HARRY, ANNIE HALL, BULLETS OVER BROADWAY; and then there's the joyous classics of course: Truffaut's JULES & JIM, Godard's WEEKEND and A WOMAN IS A WOMAN, Jaques Demy's THE UMBRELLAS OF CHERBOURG, Howard Hawks' BRINGING UP BABY, Douglas Sirk's ALL THAT HEAVEN ALLOWS, Bunuel's THE DISCREET CHARM OF THE BOURGEOISIE, THE PHANTOM OF LIBERTY, and/or Fassbinder's THE BITTER TEARS OF PETRA VON KANT, VERONIKA VOSS and ALI-FEAR EATS THE SOUL.
Where to begin? WHERE TO BEGIN?!?
I came back for two reasons:
First, I wanted to tell you that I've taken various "film history" courses over the years and that I am appalled by the number of students -- allegedly interested in seeing good films and learning about film history -- who find the films we watch "depressing." My answer? "No good movie is depressing, all bad movies are depressing;" I think I was quoting someone - I'm not sure. :)
Besides, how can anyone be truly depressed/bored by METROPOLIS, THE 400 BLOWS, RULES OF THE GAME, PATHER PANCHALI, THE SEVENTH SEAL, EASY RIDER, BREATHLESS, THE SEVEN SAMURAI, RASHOMON, or BICYCLE THIEVES?!?
Second, I left out (through carelessness) a few other titles I can't live without:
* Kieslowski's THREE COLOR TRILOGY: BLUE, WHITE, RED (especially RED)
* and of course Stanley Kubrick (particularly LOLITA, DR. STRANGELOVE, A CLOCKWORK ORANGE, BARRY LYNDON - Not Boring!, THE SHINING and EYES WIDE SHUT!!!)...
See what I mean? Where do you start to narrow this down?!?
I was thinking about another question somebody posed earlier on here: What film have you been thinking about lately?
For me, because my DVD collection is split up among here and a friend's basement in Portland, Oregon right now, I have been wanting desperately to rewatch some of the films that got left there particularly:
John Carpenter's HALLOWEEN, Scorsese's AFTER HOURS, GANGS OF NEW YORK, Kubrick's DR. STRANGELOVE, BARRY LYNDON and THE SHINING, and Almodovar's ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER, Mike Nichols' WIT, P.T. Anderson's MAGNOLIA, Altman's NASHVILLE and...of course, Fellini's LA DOLCE VITA
I'd be interested in how many of these all-time favorite films were seen for the first time between the ages of ten and twenty-two. Those were the years of deepest impression for me. Do we still have the capacity to be overwhelmed by movies once in our thirties and forties? The only time it happened for me in (presumed) maturity was when I first saw "The Tall T" at age 36. It was a shock and not a little unsettling to be so blown away at a point when you think you've seen it all. One nice thing about getting older is going back and finding deeper resonance in pictures seen many times, but not so recently. Another look at the 1956 "Ten Commandments" revealed qualities I'd overlooked before. I'd like to think there will be richer viewing experiences to come of great pictures I've grown, or are growing, into. I agree with those commenters who said it's we who change, not the films. The best ones help us gauge our own progress toward wisdom and understanding (of others if not ourselves).
So after a million comments about so many important movies, I'm gonna jump in as the shaggy underdog and say that Joss Whedon's Serenity is my favorite film. Yeah, it only came out three years ago, and while Citizen Kane and plenty of other movies are undoubtedly more accomplished technical achievements, none of them have the same emotional resonance for me as Serenity does. Sure, I'm biased, since I was a huge fan of Whedon's since first watching the Buffy the Vampire Slayer TV series (a beautiful phoenix rising from the ashes of the horrid 1992 movie), and was extremely attached to the short-lived series Firefly, which Serenity of course was an extension of. But I love those characters, and everything that they are and ever will be, and the experience of watching the film moves me deeply. It's funny, exciting, occasionally terrifying, and certainly gut-wrenching in moments. It's everything I want from a film.
Anyway, other favorites of mine would be Pulp Fiction, Citizen Kane, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Rebecca, Reservoir Dogs, Schindler's List, Persona, and 12 Angry Men. I don't differentiate between favorites and greatests, because to me the greatest movies are the ones I would consider favorites.
(Also, I love list-making...)
About ten years ago I made a list of my 100 favorite movies and ever since then anytime I watched a movie I'd like to see again I added it to the list approximately where it would go. Now it's somewhere around 700. Obsessive? Yes. Useless? No. I use it anytime someone asks me for movie recommendations. I start from my favorites and scan down through. It's never hard to rustle up 10 or so that I'm certain they'll really like.
So, rather than a definitive "I like #256 better than #257" type of list, I have an amorphous list that generally conveys from the top down, which movies I could watch more often. The top ten or so- Star Wars, Empire Strikes Back, My Darling Clementine, The Graduate, Clockwork Orange, The Shining, Rebel without a Cause, Valley Girl, and yes, Citizen Kane... I could watch any of them tonight. Roger- I'd love a short list of some of the movies you could watch anytime.
With wine I finished "La Dolce Vita". I think wine is built into the very structure of the film. I loved the scene where Marcello moves his hands to Sylvia but does not touch her. All of cinema and celebrity is like this: it teases, flirts and arouses but it never consummates, because it cannot touch or be touched. Memories are this way. I loved the final poetic moment where he tries to speak to the young girl across the ocean. This has so many meanings I am content for now to dissolve into the literal and immediate: this is already more than enough.
After this I watched "Last tango in Paris", a film I know well, even going so far to visit the Bir-Hakiem bridge, where it opens, in Paris last year. I hoped that La Dolce might inspire a new insight into the film. For the first time in my life I found myself identifying intensely with Maria's character. I had always found the film cathartic as a male and seen it through Brando's eyes, sharing more than I care to admit with him. I edited the film in my mind in the way a film centred on him must be edited. This time, in a revelatory, revolutionary way, I saw Brando as the establishment, not the rebel. There are extraordinary moments in her performance, the intonations and targeted way that she uses the script that has been written for her, as best she can.
Like her I face a world that wants to sodomise, rape and insult me; I don't doubt this any longer, though the pressures are not as intense as those directed towards young women, they are there, and they are intensifying. I am about her age, about as beautiful and about as ugly. I forced myself to take every word of hers seriously, which I had not done before. When I saw it the first time I disliked her change of hair, thinking it did not suit her: what I meant was that it did not suit me. I disliked much about her, without any justice. Now those very things are precious, essential, elemental to me.
A film brings to mind our memories of the last time we saw it. Essentially we watch the film and our memories of it, seeing the same thing again, unless we make a deliberate effort to impose another kind of interpretation. I think the best thing that can happen to you is to become estranged from a work of art, that is, not to forget it, but to view it each time with the mystery which it deserves. These characters reveal portions of themselves but not their whole. I found myself wondering about them, as I should, rather than re-living my former conclusions and perceptions. In this way no art can ever be stale, grow old, become exhausted, because in each piece there is an element and manifestation of the unsolved and unsolvable mystery of the universe. A great work has something else in addition.
I feel myself going through an intense transformation. My mind has been tied to the floor for years and now it seems to glide through the air. I think it wise to pause for a moment, lest I over-commit myself. This medium is intensive and thought-provoking, but perilous. Even hyenas need to lick their wounds. Bon nuit for now.
Reading this blog entry made me watch "La Dolce Vita" yet again. And truth to be told, there were some parts in it that made me laugh this time around, probably my fourth or fifth time watching it. Like in the Madonna scene, and the part where Sylvia is in St. Peter's Basilica and looks for a building that is in Florence.
Like Solomon Wakeling I had trouble with watching it at first, then what helped me to understand it was to listen to Richard Schnickel's commentary on the DVD. He points out many things like the wasteland apartments that Marcello lives in, the holy poses of the relatives in the Madonna scene, how Madelena's car is giant and not really appropriate for Rome. The final party scene kinda goes off the rails so to speak. I started to watch these sorts of movies after reading Roger Ebert's Great Movies series and I wanted to see things in European movies that you cannot see in American ones such as nudity.
At the end I wondered if the white suite Marcello wears in the ending party scene inspired John Travolta's in "Saturday Night Fever."
Off with The Bard's head!!!! (^_^)
What a stirring blog entry!
My response to the favorite movie question is usually "The Graduate," but is it still true? I love it to pieces, but is it still my favorite ever? After all, "GoodFellas" and "Rosemary's Baby" are thrillingly rendered and endlessly re-watchable, though "GF" might get a slight demerit because there are other brilliant gangster movies whereas "RB" perhaps gets a slight boost because I've never seen another horror movie that I thought was truly great. And anyway, when you get "up there in the high country"* of greatness, it can be pretty hard to say which hills are higher. Is Catherine Denueve more stirring to behold than Marilyn Monroe, or are they just stirring in different ways?
Other movies on my all-time favorite list, in no particular order: “Taxi Driver,” “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” “Broadcast News,” “Joe Vs. the Volcano,” “It’s a Wonderful Life,” "Trust."
Probably my favorite movie of the past ten years, and maybe the only one I think of as a straight up four-star movie, is "The Talented Mr. Ripley," for which "La Dolce Vita" was an inspiration. It is like classic Hitchcock, only more brutal, and without the melodrama and occasional slack pacing that to my mind are apparent in even some of Hitchcock's best work. The opening credit sequence, with its fifties-font title that revolves adjectives before settling on “Talented,” its credit-accompanying floating color swatches, and its swift and stirring exposition, is one of the best I’ve ever seen. Plus, and this is huge, just about every character that appears onscreen is totally vivid. Cate Blanchette's debutante, the fourth lead, is as rich as most of the first leads in other movies. And the chief investigating officer could be a continuing character in his own movie series.
Lots of people, I see, are citing "American Beauty." I must confess, with respect, that this movie always seemed merely good. Kevin Spacey is great, for sure, but the direction doesn't totally work for me. There's a shot where the focus shifts from a blender in the foreground to Thora in the background that feels, I don't quite know, like an affect, I guess, as does a shot in which Wes and Thora in long shot walk home with their backs to us as their conversation plays over the soundtrack. These things for me are like blemishes that I try but can't quite overlook, and so are Spacey's fantasy sequences (kinda Skinemax, no?) and some of the "You're the king!" moments of broad comedy ("American Sitcom"). Shortly after the last time I saw "AB," I watched "Cruel Intentions" (which itself is pretty Skinemax) and though I realized "AB" is a much smarter and better movie, I remarked to my then-girlfriend that on some level I thought "CI" was more assuredly directed. Weird, huh?
And for me "The Shawshank Redemption," another frequently cited movie, is kinda the same: a good movie with some great performances but also some not-great direction (for one thing, the inmates are rendered just a little too good-hearted and opera-loving, and the guards just a little too villainous; for another, the themes of hope and freedom are not subtly put across).
Again, all respect to everyone and their picks. And especially to you, Mr. Ebert. Your reviews and commentaries are like good short stories—you’re funny as hell and insightful as all get out. Well done!
*"Up there in the high country," by the way, is a quote, or perhaps misquote, from "Joe Vs. the Volcano."
I choose to comment on the first question film reviewers are asked ("how many films do you see in a week?") because it reminds me of a George Carlin joke. It has to do with smartaleck answers to nagging questions mothers ask their kids. When his exasperated mom said, "How many times do I have to tell you?!", Carlin posited the best answer was, "Six."
Great article. It made me think about what makes a movie my favorite. For me, it is a movie that shifts my perspective, shakes me to my core, or simply amazes me and stimulates my imagination. These vary from vast elaborate epics to sincere personal films. My top 10 list would be:
1. Taxi Driver (surprised this existentialist nightmare isn't mentioned more in this blog)
2. Dr. Strangelove (hilarious, and terrifying)
3. North by Northwest (Hitchcock's most ambitious and epic film)
4. City of God (has a movie ever captured such a vivid and vibrant feeling or entire culture)
5. Ben-Hur (could anyone belt out a speech or captivate and audience like Charleton Heston)
6. Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (this movie terrified me when I was a child and still shakes me today)
7. Lawrence of Arabia (Peter O'Toole in a movie that is as vast and magical as any epic ever made)
8. Pulp Fiction (Could be the most influential movie of the last 25 years on filmaking today)
9. George Washington (has there ever been a more somber and sincere look into small-town life for children in poverty)
10. Harlan County USA (the greatest documentary of all time, and one of the most amazing accounts of heroism and tragedy in history)
However, this list changes for me and recent films that have become favorites of mine are Man on the Train, Syriana, and The Proposition.
Well, after 190 odd comments I find that a lot of people are mentioning the same old favourites whose greatness is beyond any doubt. I think this is an appropriate place to list less celebrated movies that we think Roger ought to review as a part of his Great Movies series soon:)
North by Northwest (Hitchcock)
Charulata (Ray)
Shop around the Corner (Lubitsch)
Shadow of a Doubt (Hitchcock)
His Girl Friday (Hawks)
African Queen (there must be at least one Kate Hepburn movie in a great movie collection :P)
The Man who Shot Liberty Valance (Ford)
Is any of them in the pipeline, Roger?
Since we don't have politics in America, we substitute our consumption of media to show our beliefs. (What kind of political beliefs can you have here when the range of acceptance is so narrow? No one's an American communist anymore, or a socialist, and the Anarchists are getting gassed in the streets of St. Paul. Even that's not on TV.) That makes the question of one's 'favorite' movie very loaded. It's no wonder giving a straight answer is so hard.
I once asked a famous author what was on the bedside table right now that he was trying to plow through at night. He answered, surprisingly, that it was a series of pulp westerns that he was getting a kick out of. I got something out of that. It told me something about him, gave him some three-dimensionality. A mediocre question had produced an interesting answer. What do you know?
So maybe a better question would be, what did you wear out on VHS? We all have film libraries at home now, so it's a fair question. We stick in what continues to get to us, and that's close to what makes a film a favorite.
For me? Hands down, Penny Singleton and Arthur Lake in the Blondie pictures. I don't care which one, they're all about the same. I loved the pitch of their voices together, the sight gags, the predictablility. See how much more you know about me now? Much more than if I'd talked about the unrelenting hero shots in Kane. And that's from me, some dweeb on the web!
In radio, they had a format called "music of your life", long since gone, but replaced, I think, with movies. Those are the movies we want to know about with people. Which ones make up your life's soundtrack?
Since I first saw it on my grandfather's aging television set (more than twice my age)"Lawrence of Arabia" has always been my answer to the question "What is your favorite movie?"
But after reading this blog entry, I wonder if I can honestly pick a favorite film at this time in my life, when I am only in my early twenties. Perhaps in another decade or two, I can answer the question truthfully, after having time to grow and change, and to have seen how my enjoyment of films has grown and changed with me. Perhaps "Lawrence of Arabia" will still be my favorite. Perhaps not. I think pursuit of the answer will be a reward in and of itself.
I could apply Jonathan Rosenbaum's logic to whatever Robert Bresson film I've seen most recently, though I don't believe any film will ever take the place of "Au Hasard Balthazar". Bresson achieved something wonderful with that film that I would argue has never been done before or since. He asked us to sympathize with a complete innocent; a creature that was not only sinless, but incapable of sin. And then, he broke our hearts by holding up a mirror and showing us the depths of our own depravity. He didn't do so by employing a huge narrative landscape such as a war or a social movement. Rather, he showed us cruelty in its most rudimentary form--unaffected by outside events-- what Hannah Arendt was describing in "The Banality of Evil". In the end, Balthazar is the ultimate Christ figure; not because of the usual metaphoric references, but because he represents the only type of sinlessness that we can comprehend.
Mr. Ebert,
My favorite movies change all the time. Sometimes the movie I consider my favorite at the beginning of a sentence isn't my first choice by the end. I think lots of movies are great for different reasons. I enjoy some because they are simple entertainment, and others because they have profound meanings behind them. Some are technically beautiful, with excellent camera work, lighting and sound design. Others are great simply for the written material. It's so much simpler (and honest) to describe the favorite part of EACH movie rather than trying to compare apples and oranges.
For me, the number of viewings isn't a good indicator of quality either. I've seen Cannonball Run more than a dozen times, it's entertaining but hardly a 'great' movie. I've seen Shindler's List and Shine only two or three times each, and even though I consider them great movies I resist re-watching them. Why? Because they've already done their job. They've already teased out a question, or answer, or emotion from within me. When I watch them again, the questions are different, the answers already known (or at least more known) and the emotion no longer new or profound. In rare cases, I find movies that are able to ask new questions and touch different emotions with multiple viewings. I consider Castaway to be very profound and insightful. I can spend hours and hours thinking about it's different layers. What is the meaning of the clocks at the beginning and the crossroads at the end? Is Wilson a friend or the beginnings of a God? The raft is slowly breaking apart, the sky is dark, what does he consider true about the world when he looks into the eye of that whale? Etc. Etc.
K.
ps- I'm hoping you will find the time to do more DVD commentaries. I find that they are rarely done well but your Floating Weeds was one of the best. Thank you for that!
My favorite movie is POINT BLANK (1967) - because it has so many details that every time I watch it, it's a different movie. Is is a straight revenge flick? A commentary on our plastic society? A death dream? A gay love story? (I could go on - I've counted at least 2 dozen different ways to see this film.) Most films that are open to interpretation are vague - lazy film making. PB has so many details, so much packed into every scene, every shot; that there is literally too much information for one movie. So you can follow different information each time you watch it.
Also - no one punches a crotch like Lee Marvin.
- Bill
The future is where the best, greatest, favorite film is. Why would we continue to watch new films if this wasn't true?
As I blog,the hard to follow,last entry before me is from Bill who aptly notes that no one punched a crotch like Lee Marvin or,I might add, scalded a pretty girl's face or handled a pitch fork better than old Lee in his evil prime-my all time fave next to Mitchum.
Also was quite taken by the gentleman who mentioned Citizen Kane in the same sentence as Hulk Hogan's Mr. Nanny. Now that's a double feature I'd like to see. Imagine that audience.
Anyway all I wanted to say was, to paraphrase, well, you...age has not withered,nor custom staled, your infinite variety. This blog stuff is fun,look forward to it every week.
Very interesting discussion brewing here; I too find the distinction between "favorite" and "greatest" movie important and helpful when discussing movies with others. I have a hard time labeling any of my favorite movies (Sideways, The Big Lebowski, The 40 Year Old Virgin, Fargo) as being amongst the greatest, primarily because I haven't seen many of the movies critics attach such a label to. But honestly, regardless of their technical merits or impact on future movie makers, I can watch each of these movies over and over and find something new to smile about, something that makes me at least a little more happy to be alive at that particular moment... regardless of their "greatness", these movies (and hopefully many more I have yet to discover) demonstrate the true power of this entertainment medium as well as Citizen Kane or any other "great movie" ever could for me.
Way, way, off topic here, but I'll pretend that since this is a favorite movies topic I can mention:
You've just reviewed an adaptation of a story by my favorite writer, Bohumil Hrabal. He wrote "I Served the King of England," and if you are not aware of him, you will love him.
His stories don't ask you to imagine things so much as they ask you to imagine characters imagining things, and it's magical.
Read him.
I usually answer the question about my favorite film with The Godfather.
But one night, we had friends over for dinner, the discussion turned to movies and my dvd collection and again the question was asked. Suddenly my wife asks me: "If you had to give away all the dvds for some reason and you could only keep The Godfather OR The Court Jester - which would it be?"
And I can't answer that one. It's just too damn hard! ;-)
Rhythmic Cutting and the Speed of Life
I've noticed that there is a rhythmic cutting to every movie and tv commercial etc. that I've seen; even movies that have very long takes like Gus Van Sant's latest works, or Godard's "Weekend. I was watching a movie about five years ago called "Better Living Through Circuitry", a documentary about the rave culture. There was one scene in the movie where a DJ was measuring peoples brain activity and he noticed something: that people's brain showed the most activity at a certain speed...it's the most comfortable speed. I'm not sure the exact BPM but the Beatles' song "the Night Before" has it and so does anything that was edited. I've noticed that life has it too; the breath of insects, animals--people--breath out right on cue; when a dog barks or cat meows I notice it is right on cue--television too, have you ever noticed how oddly seamless it is to channel surf?--it is also at the speed of life...weird. I've watched Marlon Brando's acting...his breathing-precisely on cue. This speed is us, it seems. I think what Godard may have been trying to do with "Weekend" is to somehow fight away any way he could from the visual aspect of the movie and work a different part of the brain with the subtitles he would throw out and throwing in sounds--that part I liked. But even he still did it right on cue. Maybe we can't fight out of the speed of life, but I would like to see movies go for it by making editing like notes--making the cuts right on the cue with the notes of music that can go at any speed, and not just at the speed of life...but maybe this can be respected in other ways. I think when there is a good musician, he may be playing tone with the speed of life even though the music is at another speed; they kind of blend in that respect for the comfort of the speed of life while the music goes another. Movie music I suppose doesn't have to even have a speed or even be the definition of music--just a tap at the piano could be sufficient for some scenes to add suspense--so, I don't see why editing has to be right on cue....it could add suspense to not be right on cue, if handled with the greatest care. I've noticed when a person is all angry or upset and it is distressing, I notice their breaths are not right on cue with the breath of life--a kind of disco beat of rage. Maybe there is only one movie that can come of this idea, some kind of angry camera creature that spits out the image through an image-reversing lens at us the audience--uh-oh, there is a gun pointed at me--bang--movies over.
Ebert: A very stimulating viewpoint. I believe many movies do that, including "La Dolce Vita."
That camera person idea was a little weird, but seems like it would be cool if a person's head were turned into a camera...If the person could edit it's life however it wanted, would it change the speeds around for fun and play it back to itself?
Ebert: Don't we do that with memory?
Mr. Ebert,
Thank you for that distinction between your Favorite Movie and your opinion of the Greatest Film Ever Made. I have not seen a piece of film that rivals "Citizen Kane", but I'll watch "Singin' in the Rain" any minute of any day of the week. And thank you for your beautiful look at "La Dolce Vita", a movie that I desperately need to see again.
Now my question to you is this: What is your most influential film? Maybe it's not the greatest film, but it's the movie that perhaps changed your life or even the way you look at movies.
Perhaps my most influential was Spielberg's "Jurassic Park". Not the greatest film by a long shot, but when you are an eleven-year-old boy who loves few things more than the joy of visual cinematic storytelling, "Jurassic Park" on a big screen is just about the best thing you could ever hope to see. I became fascinated by the realistic special effects, the beautiful scenery, the natural acting, the well-choreographed action. I dove into the deep end of the film, reading books and watching every TV special I could tape in an effort to learn everything I could about the movie.
From there, it was a short leap. I wanted to see more good acting, more great stories. Whereas the year prior, I was listing the Ninja Turtles movies and "Hook" as my favorite movies, within the year I was enjoying more adult fare such as "Forrest Gump" and "Schindler's List" (there's still an amusing picture of me on my thirteenth birthday, clutching the VHS copy of "Philadelphia", as excited as any boy could possibly be).
Another example in my life is Frank Darabont's "The Majestic", which is not a film that I would necessarily recommend. However, after being laid off from my minimum wage job and realizing that I was stuck in Barstow, California in a post-9/11 economy, I wanted to watch something uplifting. Boy, was it ever. What many people were calling hokey and melodramatic I found to be as inspiring and good-natured as any Frank Capra film. One month later, I had moved and started a new job. "The Majestic" is certainly not on my list of greatest films (and in fact, the Capra feel that won me over on the first viewing actually upset me in my more cynical second viewing), but it just hit me at the exact right moment.
What would be your most influential films?
- Jeremy
I think my favorite movie of all time would be Aliens. The reason being is that I saw it on a dark winter night with a bunch of other kids in a house with no adults when I was 11; the atmosphere and spookiness factor is what has imprinted itself in my mind to tghe point where I will never get tired of it.
Roger - you are so missed! I don't know why they've butchered your show so badly. But I don't think I can continue to watch. Critic round up? What ever they call that, I don't like it. I always liked at the movies because it was two guys with differing opinions discussing a movie. TWO! Not five. If I wanted to take a poll, I'd just look at what viewers thought of the movies on some web site. I think perhaps I'm just going to have to console myself by reading your reviews online and screw the show. Maybe they'll fix the format when the ratings tank. We'll see. I hope you're feeling OK. I was sorry to see you go from the show.
I bought 8 1/2 from Amazon a couple years ago because La Dolce Vita wasn't available. I will be buying it today for about 20$.
Yeah, I agree about memory. I just like the idea of a camera guy, that has like a body that resembles a tripod, but like a human or action figure with a camera head. Here's an opening scene: POV shot, someone points large shotgun at screen, bang, the wall has a bunch of holes surrounding movie camera shape ...could be an interesting cartoon like character...the movie camera has a life of its own....kind of like the first scene of "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" where you discover that you are behind the scenes, what if that camera in that scene had a life of its own and its own movie?
Mr. Ebert,
Are there some films that everybody has seen but you?
Seems unlikely, but I'd venture there are some.
Ebert: How about "The Sound of Music?"
Will it ever be possible for a movie to be better than Citizen Kane? I don't mean simply mean in terms of quality but can a movie ever again advance the language of cinema in a way that Citizen Kane was able to. For example, did The Matrix have a shot at "Best Movie Ever" due to its advanced used of special effects, intriguing plot and narrative structure.I'm not suggesting that The Matrix qualifies as "The Best Movie Ever" (although it was pretty good) just wondering what other movies of recent have the potential to knock Kane from the top of the list?
Pulp Fiction?
Raging Bull?
Star Wars?
Blade Runner?
Every title by Pixar?
-Jonathan
my favorite movie has surrounding circumstances that make it more than just a movie. fair or unfair, it exists that way.
when i was about 11, my uncle lived with my family for a few months and was reading the book "jaws." the cover was fascinating, and i was drawn to read it whether i wanted to or not. the book's sexual references were few but enough to bring silent questions about things i had not known existed. with flesh both exposed and chewed, "jaws" was my first "real" book, compared to the silly stuff we had been reading in school up until that year.
i did a book report for "jaws," including a remarkable reproduction of the cover, if i do say so myself. my teacher interrogated me to see if i truly had read the book. she may have called my mother as well because mom also had a few words with me.
the movie was released the following summer and introduced me to roy scheider, richard dreyfuss, robert shaw, sharks, and steven spielberg. it had an excellent balance of humor and horror, and it launched my love of film. some movies are more than just movies.
In all honesty, I believe Roger Avary's Rules of Attraction to be the best film of all time. Watch it more than once and you'll understand why. If not that, then Adam Sandler's Going Overboard.
Well, for what it's worth, here are my thoughts on viewing Citizen Kane. Of course it's a classic and a masterpiece--I'm not going to bother raving about it because that been better done by others more eloquent and learned than I am.
I watched it--not without some er, technical difficulties. This is the library's copy of the DVD, so of course it failed just as the butler was about to "spill" about Rosebud. I got the laptop to "accept" the DVD again and did manage to finish it. My watching of it was not improved by the presence of #2 son (who is 10) interrupting with "who is that?" "I thought he was dead" etc. (although at least now he has seen it!)
But, despite these issues, I have collected some of my thoughts:
1. Kane was a jerk. An obvious point, but I want to get the plot out of the way. He was an infantile, egomaniacal son of a bitch. I will need to watch the first part of the movie again to figure out that wretched mother of his and the drunken lout of a father. I am still not clear on why Charlie had to with the banker. I also don't quite understand why the deaths of his son and first wife don't figure in more to the plot. I am also a bit confused on the timeline of the marriages. I don't see his mother as a particularly loving figure, although that may be me, trying so hard to jump into this picture that I didn't allow details to "percolate."
2. Make up has come a loooooong way in film. Just read a very good article about Max Factor in the New Yorker, btw--he did makeup for films, indeed, he revolutionized it.
3. Miscellany: the shooting of this film is incredible. Some of it is overdone to our postmodern tastes, but for sheer emotional effect, it can't be beat. I especially like the lighting of some of the early scenes--I think it's when Thompson is going to read Thatcher's diary--the way that is lit and shot is not only artistic, but adds weight and feeling to the story. The way Welles positioned his actors, the way he cuts between faces (no idea the technical term for that)--all of that is quite gripping.
4. The way Kane's excess is portrayed--the echoes of their voices, the long shots so that no coziness is possible in Xanadu, the vast empty space of that "house". I also picked up on the closed down ceilings in the newspaper rooms and Susan's weird cottagey retreat (with the animals all stenciled over the beams)--much of the interior shots were vaguely oppressive, when they weren't just overwhelming. They alternated between overly cluttered and remote and sparse. Good metaphor for his relationships with people.
The way the monster is revealed in ordinary dialogue and scenes is masterfully done. I started out feeling sympathy for poor little Charlie and ended up thinking of Gatsby: "poor son of a bitch." (but really, was he ever happy?)
I did recognize lots of shots--they're so iconic, but it didn't detract from it at all. It's not a real fun movie (although it had more humor in it than I expected. I have never heard the humor mentioned), but it is a powerful one that resonates today and likely will as long as hubris around, I imagine.
Questions: of what significance is the scream heard during the "picnic" just after Susan is slapped and says, "don't say sorry" etc? Is it in Susan's head or just meant to release tension in Susan or is to demonstrate Kane's unfeeling attitude toward the people in his world? Or all of the above?
Of course there's more, but I'd have to see it again. I probably am not film school material because I have no desire to see it again right away. I am glad I got over my inertia regarding it, though. It's like The Scarlet Letter or another classic piece of literature: you may not have enjoyed it, but it can become part of your lexicon for understanding art and culture. So, thanks, Roger, for pushing me (inadvertently) to grow a bit in my film watching. (and now I suppose I must sit through "2001"--that one I will actively fight!). :)
... but in addition to "Pulp Fiction," I agree with several of you about Dreyer's "The Passion of Joan of Arc." I've witnessed no other film having such an emotional impact on its viewers. My companions and I were speechless for several minutes after the film ended and the DVD soldiered on to its menu screen. We walked silently about the house, looking for a bottle of booze that had been stashed somewhere.
I've had just as cozy a spot in my heart for "The Wizard of Oz" as I mentioned earlier for "Pulp Fiction." Both films entertain me for every single minute of every viewing, and I walk away from each having felt thoroughly nourished for what I just saw.
I would say that I'm in greater awe of films like Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey" and Hitchcock's "Vertigo" than I am deeply emotionally attached to them. They give me such complete intellectual and/or spiritual experiences with each repeat viewing, but they do not always comment directly on the rhythms I feel within. But perhaps awe is underrated; perhaps it passes for quite the suitable emotion.
I thought I would mention a film I didn't see above: Peter Weir's "Picnic at Hanging Rock" gives me feelings of dread and hopefulness twisting around each other like unforgiving emotional corkscrews. I felt something similar with Laughton's "Night of the Hunter"; I see that Jerry Roberts mentioned it in his posting.
Here's a question I wonder if other aspiring screenwriters and filmmakers ponder: Is there a film you feel so personally attached to, that is so in line with your vision of life or the world, that you wish you had authored it? For me, as I may have mentioned earlier, that's always been "Pulp Fiction." Thoughts?
I recall I had a moment like Marcello when a university lecturer, and conservative politician (informally, but nevertheless), who drove me home, discussed my writing and I said I was a propagandist. He asked me if I was "really a propagandist". Truth is I did write semi-fascist work for semi-fascist publications, and no, these were not my true feelings or my true interests. I can't undo them, despite all my archiviolithic emotions.
I learn that even Puccini supported the pre-fascist elements in Italy, though his politics did not seem to mean much to him. I don't know that as a piece of music "Madame Buttefly" has ever been equalled for its perfection or its violence. To write a piece of music like that I can see the element of ruthlessness as a necessary component. Strange to find it 'set' in Nagasaki. I think if a nuclear bomb had a voice that is how it would sound. He somehow channels the traditions and forms of opera into this blood-curdling scream, but it has such surface beauty that it transforms pain into pleasure. I recall reading a book by a woman on 'pain management' and the authoress wrote of how she saw parallels to madame butterfly in her own life. She had been crushed in a car accident and lived in constant pain. I don't believe in catharsis in art as a curative measure but I believe in it for another reason. It does not take pain away but it gives pain a voice.
Studying advocacy I envy opera's ability to turn an audience into a quivering mess, make it cry, make it feel, flood its soul with emotion. This is my favourite piece of music and nothing in cinema comes close to it. It has never been required to.
Films have taught me wonderful things.
‘Amadeus’ taught me how jealousy can destroy your psyche.
‘Owning Mahoney’ taught me what can happen to you if you lose control of an addiction and be stubborn trying to beat it.
’13 Conversations…’ taught me how unpredictable and interconnected our lives are.
‘Taxi Driver’ taught me how loneliness can drive you to extremes.
‘It’s A wonderful life’ taught me to cherish the things I already have.
‘Vertigo’ taught me to try to be at ease with my fears and desires because I might trouble the people around me.
‘Persona’ taught me that if I cease talking for a while, others will start revealing themselves to me. If I sit back and relax I will be offered plenty unexpected presents.
‘Network’ has taught me that no matter what a rebel within a medium might try to do, the medium will eventually win against the individual because it’s more powerful.
‘Russian Arc’ taught me that I must learn more about my history, because this is what has made me who I am.
‘Citizen Kane’ taught me that if you try to come up with a series of new inventions to use in a film, and end up using them all, then you’re doomed to be considered a technical pioneer. But if people don’t enjoy the film then this is a curse. Now tell us Mr Welles. What did you learn? Trying to look good is one thing, being good is another.
‘Rear Window’ taught me that you have to mind your own business.
‘Before Sunset’ taught me that people can never be completely in agreement. If we accept that, then we can live easily with each other.
Roger, I know where you are with Citizen Kane. At one time, I routinely named The Godfather as my favorite American film, but after I've seen it two dozen times, after I know every single shot, when I know every breath and every piece of dialogue has become like familiar song lyrics, I've put it aside.
As to the question of "My favorite film of all time" it is less realistic then what is "My favorite film of the moment". If you'd asked me yesterday what my favorite film of the moment was I'd have said Night of the Hunter because I just saw it for the first time a few weeks ago and I've been talking endlessly about it. Ask me today and I'll tell you Juno because until today I hadn't seen it since January and, as I sat through it again, all those reasons I fell in love with it in the first place have come flooding back to me. Plus, I also had the chance to introduce the film to my wife and she had the pleasure of experiencing it for the first time. Through this, I have had one of the best cinematic experiences that I can recall: Introducing my wife to a film that she initially resisted seeing but loved when she finally gave in. We've been talking about and analyzing it all day.
I know, Roger, that you are as passionate about the movies as I am but there are some days when I just don't want to think about movies. I see so many and spend so much time analyzing that from time to time I just need a break from it. So I have to ask you this (and forgive me if it's an all too familiar question), Do you ever get tired of the movies?
The distinction between "the greatest film of all time" and "favorite film" (or even "favorite film right now") reminds me of Spider Robinson's distinction between the role of "book critic" and "book reviewer":
A critic tells you whether or not it's "Art."
A reviewer tells you whether it's any damn good to read.
Or, in the case of movies, whether it's any damn good to watch. I've always looked to you for both, Mr. Ebert.
Roger,
All this talk about favorites and greatest is still playing into a flawed system of thinking. Greatest film implies a finely crafted film is superior to another. Favorite will only tell you about the person themselves-and normally they will have many "favorite" films.
The Art world has long understood how to get around that issue. Otherwise how could Piccasso and Michaelangelo be equals? They call them "Masterpieces" With that term, there is an undeniable quality about the film that transends any attempts to place a film in a numbered slot. Thus Citezen Kane, Star Wars and Schindlers list can all be considered Masterpieces...and no one can really dispute that.
Would you think about changing your name of your column?
to nikolaos,
"rear window" taught you to mind your own business?
it taught me to pay more attention to my neighbors because they might one day need my help, and i might one day need theirs.
I have often considered what my favorite film of all time is, and I can't come up with an answer. My favorites I love in different ways, and for different reasons. As a young film lover coming of age in the mid-to-late 1990s, I believe "Dark City" was the film that truly opened my eyes to the wonder of the movies. The floodgates opened. The film has not aged as gracefully for me as others have (some of the exposition feels a bit heavy-handed), but it remains one I return to repeatedly.
Otherwise, I think my favorite films are the ones where I feel changed. Not necessarily a specific change, like a particular lesson learned, but one I can't adequately explain. Something about the film makes me feel like I'm better for having seen it, elevated, inspired, my eyes, ears, and mind a little more open after seeing it than before. "United 93," "Network," "The Passion of Joan of Arc," "Angels in America," "The Elephant Man," "American Beauty," "Wit," "Pan's Labyrinth," "Schindler's List." I can't explain how, but I'm not the same person I was before I saw those films.
What movie do I want to see right now? I'm 24-years-old and still have a world of cinema in front of me, so my answer right now would be, one I haven't seen before. "Do the Right Thing," "Scenes from a Marriage," or "La Dolce Vita" for that matter. Though I should probably watch "Citizen Kane" again; I saw it once in a film class and was impressed in an impersonal, academic way, but didn't have the rapturous religious experience I think I was supposed to have. I don't think it'll ever be my favorite film.
I have a large family and many friends.
All of them knowing my passion for the cinema I get asked this question at least once a month.
It's always extremely difficult to answer.
Last year at Oscar time I found that I was being asked what my favorite film of the year was much more than previous years.
My response...
"THERE WILL BE BLOOD and NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN are both my brothers. I love them equally, but I get along with NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN more."
They shoot me a funny look and I say, "Sorry, that's the best I can do!"
I laughed when I read that everybody has seen "The Sound of Music" except you. I know I wish I'd never seen it.
My favourite movie - and it is the first movie I ever saw - is "Mary Poppins". It was released one year prior to "The Sound of Music", but it is everything that movie wanted to be and isn't, including a brilliant showcase of Julie Andrews. I've often speculated as to what your opinion is of "Mary Poppins". It, "The Truman Show", "It's A Wonderful Life" amd "Raging Bull" forever changed my view of movies at different points in my life. I still think "Mary Poppins" is the most entertaining movie ever made.
As much as I enjoy watching movies, I find it hard to pick just one movie that could be considered a favorite. I have certain movies that I watch when I'm in a certain mood. Sometimes, I'll watch a particular film for no real reason other than I like watching it. So, here are my "top favorites" in no particular order:
The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)
Lilies of the Field
Murphy's Romance
High Noon
Rocky
Rocky Balboa
The Shootist
Aliens
Groundhog Day
Seven Samurai
Yankee Doodle Dandy
Casablanca
Superman (1978)
Mothra vs. Godzilla
She Wore A Yellow Ribbon
Beauty and the Beast (Cocteau version)
Enter the Dragon
As much as I enjoy watching movies, I find it hard to pick just one movie that could be considered a favorite. I have certain movies that I watch when I'm in a certain mood. Sometimes, I'll watch a particular film for no real reason other than I like watching it. So, here are my "top favorites" in no particular order:
The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)
Lilies of the Field
Murphy's Romance
High Noon
Rocky
Rocky Balboa
The Shootist
Aliens
Groundhog Day
Seven Samurai
Yankee Doodle Dandy
Casablanca
Superman (1978)
Mothra vs. Godzilla
She Wore A Yellow Ribbon
Beauty and the Beast (Cocteau version)
Enter the Dragon
It's so difficult to pick a favorite film. There are so many things to consider, but I think it might be more simple than a list of prerequisites for greatness. The question I asked myself is "What movie do you go back to again and again and come away with something new each time." Or, similarly, what movie does your enjoyment deepen with each subsequent viewing? This will probably sound like pandering, but for me that movie is Joe vs. the Volcano (and for the record, I liked it way before I knew that RE enjoyed it, too--although I myself would probably doubt anybody who claimed that). There are many things to recommend about it. Stylistically it is unique. It looks like the pages of a story book, which is just perfect because it taps into the wonderment that we all had as a child. The wonderment of the largeness and strangeness of the world. It has great music. I discovered Ray Charles through this movie. I had never heard his version of "Ol' Man River" before, and I loved the way it used in the movie right after Joe (Tom Hanks) finds out he's got a terminal disease. I went out and bought a bunch of Ray Charles CD's and now I'm a huge, huge fan. That alone was a great gift. Then there's all these great cameos Lloyd Bridges (my favorite), Ossie Davis as the limo driver, Abe Vigoda for God's sake, and the wonderful Dan Hadeya as Mr. Waturi ("I know he can get the job, but can he do the job?"). There's even a cameo by a very heavily made up Nathan Lane. But I think the very basic appeal of this movie on those people who love it's subject (or perhaps theme), and that is Courage. And not the Rambo or Chuck Norris phony movie courage, but the real courage that it takes to live life. To really live it. To make brave choices, even in the face of death. The movie begins with Joe living a life of quite desperation. He does this because, as he says, "Fear. Yellow freakin fear. I've been too chicken-s***t afraid to live my life." He doesn't stay that way. He changes. A terminal disease sets him free. And as the audience, we love that, because maybe, just maybe, there's hope for all of us. It turns out, one of the things my girlfriend and discovered we have in common is a love for this movie. When we're bored, we can rattle of quotes and test each other to see if we remember which scene they are from ("Okay, how 'bout this one: 'Long ago, the delicate tangles of his hair... covered the emptiness of my hand.'") So, okay, now that I think about it, maybe I don't get something new from this movie every time I see it. But I reminded--every time--that fear is crippling and to face it is liberating. It's a lesson worth repeating.
I thought about this a bit as I know my moods are often reflected in my choices.
However, there is one movie that I seem to watch at least once a month and recommend it to many:"Tango". Actually the title in Spanish is "Tango, no me dejes nunca" which means, "Tango, never leave me."
This 1998 movies was directed by Carlos Saura who also did a flamenco trilogy. I am, of course, obsessed with dancing, particularly dancing tango. I also watch Sally Potter's "The Tango Lesson," but despite Pablo Veron's dancing, I find it less satisfying as a dancer, photographer and a view than Saura's film.
I also love "Spirited Away" or "Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi" which is a 2001 Miyazaki Hayao animated feature. This is better than his "My Neighbor Totoro" or "Tonari no Totoro." I'm enchanted by the "cat bus." There's something about the surprising manner of the storytelling--too many animations run along a formula. I also like that the protagonist in both films is a girl instead of a boy.
I do also have a strange affection for the original "Godzilla," particularly as an adult I understand the underlying socio-political aspects of what is essentially a bad science fiction movie.
As for "Citizen Kane," I did not actually see this film until much later, as a grad student in print journalism.
For me, however, I think I would prefer a number of Hitchcock films ("North by Northwest," "To Catch a Thief," and "Rope"). His visual sense is stunning in black and white from a photographer's point of view and his ability to create suspense without excessive gore is much more creative and draws more on psychology than most horror films of today.
Korea's Old Boy (when I want to squirm)
Sunset Boulevard (the majesty of Hollywood filming)
Italy's Cinema Paradiso (when I want to fall in love all over again with my wife and with the movies)
A Wonderful Life (Christmas just around the corner...When I want to appreciate life)
Gold Rush (when I want to be entertained)
Citizen Kane (the reason movies were and are made!)
This is hard, partially because I haven't seen enough movies to answer completely. For example, for the last few years I have been telling people "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre" (which I only saw for the first time three years ago. However, by chance, I saw "The Apartment" on TCM. I was stunned. Lemon and McClain were great. I don't think it would have knocked off "Treasure" from the tops, but it got me thinking, because it was a Billy Wilder movie. I had only watched it because he was the director of another movie I really like, "Stalag 17." So, Now I feel that I need to see more Wilder movies.
That's the great thing about this artform. I have 80 plus years to mine for good material and I've only scratched the surface.
Roger: what are some good 1930's movies to check out?
I'm 72 years old, but, for many years, the films I watch again and again are cheerful, or uplifting, or convincing romances. Perhaps they are not the greatest films of all time, but they are wonderful helps in discouraging moments. On that list are "Some Like it Hot", (why is it so difficult to make a truly funny movie that survives the test of time?), and "Singing in the Rain", and "The Parent Trap" (the FIRST version), and "Casablanca". I smile at the thought of "Babe" and of "Big Business".
I once had the experience of taking a German war-widow to see the outstanding "Black Orpheus". She hated it, she was still suffering from her own loss (in the 50's), she wanted and needed to be lifted out of her dreary life. I learned something from that experience. There are lots of us who need the movies to turn back to what they did in the 30's and 40's, lift us out of the horrible financial doldrums and worries about the future.
Mr. Ebert,
I taught a cinema class to high school students for 20 years. I developed a deep admiration for 2 ilms that I found the most teachable for technique, theme, narration, character development, and other elements of great film making AND were still great stories that young peolple were mesmerized by. These two were "Vertigo" and "Godfather II." To listen to a room full of kids gasp at the second death of Kim Novak or to watch them understand the implications of the shot of her in the mirror in the flowershop scene was a delight. The use of dual plots and flashback in "Godfather II" combined with the brilliant acting by Pacino and DeNiro helped them see the power of film as an art form rather than just an entertainment diversion, and yet an art form completely accessible and understandable.
Too many to mention, but:
The Graduate
Red River
Cool Hand Luke
Yankee Doodle Dandy
Double Indemnity
Bullit
The Apartment
The Sixth Sense
Lady in Cement (my fist date with my wife, 1968)
Blazing Saddles
Once
first of all....can someone please tell me what is so special about ciitzen kane...i am 61 years of age and i saw that movie when i was a young man and was bored to tears...but being that it is always everyones favorite movie (at least in their top 5) i decided to go back and review it...and i was still bored...there are some many, many movies far more interesting and entertaining
I was recently shunned by a couple of movie-intellectual types for saying my favourite movie was Spielberg's 1984 "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom". "I'd guess you haven't seen much," one of them said. "I've seen many, many films," I replied. This is true. I'm a huge movie enthusist, it dominates my life a little too much sometimes and I'm watching new films every day.
I think the problem with my favourite movie is that it wasn't foreign, it is fairy recent and it was a blockbuster made my cinema's most "generic director (their words, not mine) Steven Spielberg.
The thing is, these people couldn't grasp the fact that I had selected a film like that as my favourite. I doubt they'd even accept "Raiders" as a good first choice. I tried to explain that my choice was based on the film I enjoyed the most out of every film I've seen, the film I could watch over and over again without growing tired of it. My favourite.
Blank faces all around.
I know you'd agree somewhat with my choice, Mr. Ebert. You truly understand what going to a film and enjoying it means. Sure, "Temple of Doom" is a little trashy and pulpy (it is supposed to be, I am sure), but it thrills and excites in ways that... well, make me love cinema.
I was recently shunned by a couple of movie-intellectual types for saying my favourite movie was Spielberg's 1984 "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom". "I'd guess you haven't seen much," one of them said. "I've seen many, many films," I replied. This is true. I'm a huge movie enthusist, it dominates my life a little too much sometimes and I'm watching new films every day.
I think the problem with my favourite movie is that it wasn't foreign, it is fairy recent and it was a blockbuster made my cinema's most "generic" director (their words, not mine) Steven Spielberg.
The thing is, these people couldn't grasp the fact that I had selected a film like that as my favourite. I doubt they'd even accept "Raiders" as a good first choice. I tried to explain that my choice was based on the film I enjoyed the most out of every film I've seen, the film I could watch over and over again without growing tired of it. My favourite.
Blank faces all around.
I know you'd agree somewhat with my choice, Mr. Ebert. You truly understand what going to a film and enjoying it means. Sure, "Temple of Doom" is a little trashy and pulpy (it is supposed to be, I am sure), but it thrills and excites in ways that... well, make me love cinema.
I graduated from high school the summer of 1973 at the height of the kung fu movie craze and had absolutely no interest in seeing those movies...until my cousin dragged me to see "Fists Of Fury" with Bruce Lee the day after my graduation. And, I was hooked. No, "Fists Of Fury" is NOT my favorite film, but I fell in love with the combined ferocity and grace of the charismatic star, Bruce Lee. He died that summer after I saw his second film released in the U.S., "Chinese Connection" and I thought that was it. No more Bruce. But, then "Enter The Dragon" came out at the end of the summer. I started college that fall at Columbia College majoring in film writing and my mother would give me three dollars a day: two dollars to get to and from school and a dollar for lunch (those were the days!). Well, I saved that dollar for lunch until I had three dollars. After my last class on Wednesday, I walked into the State-Lake Theatre, paid my three dollars and was mesmerized for almost two hours. I sat through the movie twice and walked out the theatre with my head in the clouds. That's what a movie is supposed to do to you! When the movie moved to the McVickers the next week (and the McVickers was only a buck!), I saw "Enter The Dragon" every day after school for two weeks! "Enter The Dragon" is not the best written movie nor the best action movie nor the best acted movie ever made (I'll never forget Siskel's review of it: "Lee couldn't act his way out of a paper bag"!). But, it connected with me (and its audience) in such an emotional and visceral way and mainly because of its star, Bruce Lee. There are tons of movies that I love but "Enter The Dragon" is the only one that I can watch over and over again and wistfully remember the summer of '73 when an Asian actor ruled the box office and our hearts.
My favorite movies after many years of movie going are;
To Kill a Mockingbird'
I Want to Live'
The fortune Cookie'
Brokeback Mountain'
as they each offer a perspective of the human condition that may not be our own.
My favorite film, but not necessary the best film, is "Back to the Future" for its characters, dialogue, the ability it gives me every time I watch it to believe in time travel, for George McFly. It is a movie I walked out of the theater in love with and a film I am dying to watch with my daughter (she is only five months old, but I am going to try this weekend and I am sure many times in the future).
Beyond that there are hundreds of great films out there and I have watched and continue to watch as many as I can. People, especially film people, always respond with a look of shock when I tell them that BTTF is my favorite film. What not The Godfather? Not Citizen Kane? Sure both tremendous films, both of which I have seen a good dozen times, but never had that connection to that I do with "Future."
I loved reading people's comments because it brought back so many memories. It makes me want to take a week off from work and have a film week in my living room.
Whatever your choice is for favorite film is very much subjective - unlike the "best" film which you can dissect and analyze like a frog in a petrie dish. Your favorite movie is more of a part of you than it is its own entity.
My favorite movies are the ones I like to watch over with people who have not yet seen or even of heard of the movie before. These are my top ten.
1) Ninth Configuration
2) House of Games
3) It' A Wonderful Life (everyone has seen it)
4) Jaws
5) Reservoir Dogs
6) Mr. Smith goes to Washington
7) Gone Baby Gone (Very underrated)
8) And Then There Were None (1945)
9) Usual Suspects
10) To Live and Die in L.A
also notable are Platoon, L.A. Confidential, A Night at the Opera, Dawn of the Dead (original), Diner and Evil Dead.
Here is my ten greatest
1.Aguirre,the Wrath of God(Herzog)
2.The Godfather and The Godfather Part II(Coppola)
3.Rio Bravo(Hawks)
4.Grand Illusion(Renoir)
5.Once Upon a Time in the West(Leone)
6.Pinocchio(Sharpsteen/Luske)
7.Vertigo(Hitchcock)
8.Taxi Driver(Scorsese)
9.Dumbo(Sharpsteen)
10.A Night at the Opera(Wood)
Favorite Movies:The Empire Strikes Back,Goodfellas,The Untouchables,Diner,Strangers on a Train,Beauty and the Beast and Raging Bull.
Thank You, Mr.Ebert taking your time to make blogs for your fans and avid readers and I hope that we will get to see a "Great Movies III" book eventually.
Fantasia
the 2 movies i can watch endlessly: City Lights and My Man Godfrey. they make you laugh, they make you cry and make you think. laughing sometimes underrated. can be enjoyed by young and old on many levels. thanks to all and our hero mr. ebert for all the great movie chosen by all.
My favorite film for the past five years has been "Lost in Translation". I have been trying to pin down exactly what it is I love so much about the movie, why it has gone unchallenged by all the wonderful films I have seen before and since, and why I can watch it so often and still respond to it just as well every time.
It has often been observed that when we go to the movies, we bring our own experiences and feelings that affect how we respond to the film. As a result, there are cases where our reaction to a film reveals a lot more about ourselves than about the movie itself. When I see Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson's characters in the movie, I can relate to certain aspects of them individually (In Murray's case, being worn out and isolated in a strange region. In Johansson's case, feeling neglected, unrelated to, and not sure where one's life is heading), but I especially relate to the relationship between the two characters. I recognize the need for a deep mental connection and someone that will listen to you closely and appreciate you just for being who you are. Even if it only lasts for a short period of time, a connection like that will make a big difference. I have had friendships that I felt were similar to Bob and Charlotte's, so it was very moving and enjoyable to watch these two people learn and change just from being around each other. When the two characters are by themselves, Japan looks big, overwhelming, and intimidating, but after they meet and bond, it becomes a fun and actually quite beautiful place to be.
There are other things that I love about "Lost in Translation" like the beautiful cinematography and location shooting, the fantastic lead performances, and the beautifully scripted or improvised dialogue. But that strong identification with the characters, the ability to bring myself to them and get something back in return, that's what really made me fall in love with this film. It's a movie that I think will stay with me as long as La Dolce Vita will undoubtedly stay with you.
Les Enfants du Paradis, aka Children of Paradise has been my favourite film since I was eight years old. I saw it for the first time when I was eight and the second time when I was eighteen and now I'm forty-four and there has never been a moment when I didn't identify it as my favourite.
It just goes to show you that children don't only go for children's films, and though my partents' strategy of letting me see everything horribly backfired when I saw a particularly gory vampire film at five, freaked out, and therefor didn't see films like The Exorcist and Jaws until I was well into my twenties, in other ways I saw some wonderful stuff that none of my peers were seeing, like all of the Chaplin films and the original She on the big screen, simply because they felt like seeing it themselves.
The article is nearly a month old now, but I've enjoyed reading everyone's responses and thought I would add my own favorite film, especially since it is one I rarely hear mentioned. The Member of the Wedding from 1952. I've never had a film resonate with me on such an emotional and spiritual level. It requires a slight suspension of belief because Julie Harris is clearly much older than twelve, but there is something so poignant in her desperation to find the we in me (as she defines it) that you reach a point where you forget this slight absurdity.
And then Ethel Waters starts singing "His Eye Is on the Sparrow." I have never been a person of faith but that hit me like a ton of bricks. At this point, Frankie feels more lost and alone than ever and Berenice's brother is fleeing from racist charges that could cost him his life, and in the middle of all of this loneliness and hatefulness where it seems that the most logical reaction would be anger, she belts "I sing because I'm happy / I sing because I'm free." By the time the scene had ended with a close-up of their 3 faces, I realized somewhere along the way that I had started crying.
I maybe, or i am, totally biased.. but the greatest film ever objectively has to be our Indian movie Sholay. Sholay epitomizes why movies are made in first place - Entertainment.
I think west needs to look beyond Ray as far as Indian movies go. Start with Sholay.
The question of best or favourite film(Kane's smoking chimney at the end immediateily morphs in my mind into the chimneys of Schindler's list,and oh! that "no trespassing" sign...and these are beloved moments) )was one I wou1d have found unnecessary till I interacted with you.....and an answer formulated itself, today...Ikiru!Standing reasonably well at 62 ,and passing through a crisis of sorts,at this "bank and shoal of time",I would say its a movie which is more than a mere film...
I'm 20 and It's a Wonderful Life is my all time favorite film.
I consider three things when ranking movies:
(1) How good is it (obviously)?
(2) How rewatchable is it?
If I can watch it two or three times in the same week and not go completely insane, I label it "compulsively rewatchable".
I also found that a few films, like Almost Famous and Big Fish, went from **** upon first viewing to **1/2 for the subsequent viewings. I guess, for me at least, all the awe and wonder was gone from the repeat viewings. This sucks because I can never truly experience the greatness of those films again no matter how hard I try.
I find that most films fall in the "I can watch it once-a-month or so" range.
(3) How old is it?
If I love a film that is over sixty years old, I'll probably still love it several decades from now. With excellent newer films, it's usually impossible to guage how well they'll age.
For me, It's a Wonderful Life is a four star film, compulsively rewatchable and ridiculously old.
Magic:
"Movies do not change, but their viewers do. When I saw "La Dolce Vita" in 1962, I was an adolescent for whom "the sweet life" represented everything I dreamed of: Exotic European glamour, sin, the weary romance of the cynical newspaperman. When I saw it again, around 1970, I was living in a version of Marcello's world. Chicago's North Avenue was not the Via Veneto, but at 3 a.m. the denizens were just as colorful, and I was about Marcello's age.
When I saw the movie around 1980, Marcello was the same age, but I was 10 years older, had stopped drinking, and saw him not as a role model but as a victim, condemned to an endless search for happiness that could never be found, not that way. By 1991, Marcello seemed younger still, and while I had once admired and then criticized him, now I pitied and loved him. And when I saw the movie right after Mastroianni died, I thought that Fellini and Marcello had taken a moment of discovery and made it immortal. There may be no such thing as the sweet life. But it is necessary to find that out for yourself."
How marvelous a sentiment as the one above, this is why I love the cinema. Movies provide us with a rich language for discussing and describing the world around us, but what most tend to forget is that it allows this in regard to ourselves also and it’s nice to see that this type of experience continues today. I am searching for a job right now, and with not much luck this paragraph here has completely inspired my continues love and faith for the cinema. I would hope that more and more people are affected in such a manner when it comes to movies and that it allows people to want take a chance on something personal when it comes to their filmmaking. It make things more authentic, honest and human and that hard for anyone to deny let alone be affected by it.
Much Love
I like the question: which movie changed your life
Remembering back to when I was 10 years old, watching Jurassic Park perhaps did a little bit. Before I watched it, I was totally pumped to go watch some badass dinosaurs kick ass, so to speak. But the dinosaurs, when they went wild, didn't exhilerate me; they terrified me. Coincidentally, I had also watched Pet Sematary that same week. Those two movies combined into several dreadful nightmares for me. And I think, looking back, it was the same theme that really got me: what a wonderful thought it was, to bring dinosaurs, or your dead pet, back to life. And what horrible consequences it had. Perhaps watching those movies was the birth of my lifelong tendency towards skepticism of 'cool' or even plain old 'good' intentions in the real world.
The next movie to change my life may have been The Bridge Over the River Kwai. Alec Guiness's character's mission to build that damn bridge better than anyone else could--in other words, to find pride and dignity even in the most horrible of circumstances really moved me. The added layer of complexity in having the Americans destroy the bridge, and in the difficulty Guiness' character has in seperating his personal dignity from the actual physical bridge was really icing on the cake. I have drawn on feelings that were initially inspired, or at least revealed, by that movie many times in order to try to find satisfaction in performing even the most seemingly worthless of tasks perfectly.
After The Bridge Over the River Kwai, I'd say the next movie to change my life was Saving Private Ryan; a movie that had two messages that resonated with me so strongly. The first, and most obvious of course, was 'Earn this'. As in--to all the generations that have come after the 'Great Generation'--justify the horror, the death, the killing, the sacrifice. Transcend history. Break free of the patterns that served us well in our evolution from hunter-gatherer to virtual children/gods, and create new patterns that will serve us better in the future. And the second, the more personal, being the justification of the mission given by Hanks' character. To keep your eye on the big picture; morally. To realise that, even in the midst of total war, a mission to save one man's life is infinitely better than a mission to kill others on any rational moral level.
Both Fight Club and Taxi Driver spoke greatly to me about the value of maintaining relationships and especially friendships. Both stories are the stories of men who allow themselves to become isolated, and their isolation leads them to lose all perspective on normal thought processes and behaviour.
There are tons of other great movies that I loved, of course, but those are the movies that came along at the right time and changed my patterns of thinking, and the way I saw the world. They are the most important movies of my life.
i think too many of the comments above equate "favorite" with "great" or "best"... maybe that's true for most of the posters. However, for me, it's two different things. I think the BEST(and most important and powerful) film I have ever seen is "Apocalypse Now", but my FAVORITE movie has to be "What's Up Doc?" which I must have seen over 25 times by now and laugh just as hard each time, even though I know it almost line-by-line. Many great great films make a huge impression, but I would not necessarily want to see them again. As for "What's Up Doc", Maybe I'll put it on right now.
My feelings towards what is the 'best' and what is my 'favorite' are usually worlds apart. Films that I rank among the 'best' can often movies I grow tired of watching after just a viewing or two. While I can recognize all of their greatness, enjoying them is a whole other matter.
I think the "Godfather" is a masterpiece, but I really don't enjoy watching it. My favorite film is "The Empire Strikes Back" and while great in it's own right, can't really artisticly compare to something like "Citizen Kane". I often feel that the films I enjoy to my core aren't always the most well-crafted, near-perfect works.
The one truly great film that I do enjoy to my core is "12 Angry Men".
Pick a favorite film, or the best film ?
May as well try to include poem, song, painting, short story, novel, sculpture, meal, car, suit of clothes, girlfriend, flower, or religion.
Did I miss any categories ?
;-)
Yes, I know, am going all Plato-ish with this, and that is the point.
We all have our "favorite(s)" but few of us can credibly proclaim a "best" without knowledge or experience of all available.
Compared to the other Arts or other Categories of Subjective Experience - Film has existed for a fairly short time so we've had a limited number of choices for "best."
However, in merely 100 years we've witnessed rapid expansion of Film as an Art Form and now that number of choices has grown.
But it is growth firmly rooted from seeds like Citizen Kane which will endure as one of the original strains, and all of the "best" which follow must - by definition - contain some of its DNA.
I love watching spider-man 1 and 2, and Die Hard
i just never get tired of them
No, they are not the best films ever made
But they are my favorite
My top ten favorite movies in ascending (worst of the ten to the best) order are
10) Plan 9 from outer space
9) Epic movie
8) Scary movie 4
7) the comebacks
6) Master of disguise
5) The adventures of pluto nash
4) showgirls
3) Baby geniuses 2
2) catwoman
1) BATTLEFIELD EARTH!
yeah, i love those movies with a passion
Since this is an old post, I'll keep this reply short. I assume you are still at the very least putting them up.
Of your two questions that every critic gets asked, I find the second one interesting. I think it is somewhat natural to want to know what is the "best" in a certain category: best basketball player ever, best song, best movie, etc. Obviously the next level to take that to when talking to an individual is to ask their personal favorite, not just the consensus favorite. I applaud your decision to not make lots of different "Top 10" lists just because somebody else wants you to.
However, personally, I often have the desire to make a list of my own. I've been more-or-less been trying to narrow down my top 100 as of late, but have found even that hard - and I have probably not seen a quarter of the movies you have! Still, I have an urge to be able to quantify what movies I like. The only problem is, there are too many variables to put together. The question you propose is "what movie would you most want to watch right now?" (Which, by the way, La Dolce Vita is now at "Short Wait" status on my Blockbuster queue, so I'm hoping to see it soon.) Even that relies heavily on emotion.
I was reading through an old "Movie Answer Man" from May 16, 2004. To quote you: "The star rating system is the bane of my existence." You mentioned in that column that you have always rated movies on a relative basis, not an absolute one. Trying to rate a movie by comparing it to a completely dissimilar movie just doesn't work. It seems much more effective to rate a movie based on what it tries to be. If it's a B movie, give in the benefit of the doubt. If it tries to be revolutionary and fails, it doesn't deserve a high rating just because its special effects are amazing.
My favourite film is, without a moment's hesitation, "Lost in Translation". I don't have a real explanation for why* but I'll do my best. I love it so much because of what it makes me feel. No other film has EVER meant so much to me. I find that its characters are more truthful then in any other film and ts such a subtle film with alot of great truths. Trust me, I've felt so much of what these characters have felt in the film and Sofia Coppola captures the feeling better then I think is even possible! ;)
* I don't really think most people can explain what their favourite film is. Frequently, I think people have a secret reason why they love that particular film so much that they either can't put into words or are to embarrassed to reveal.
Oh, and I turned "La Dolce Vita" off after about two hours. I simply couldn't stand it.
Nice writing. You are on my RSS reader now so I can read more from you down the road.
Jason Kenny
Best film ever? It's also my favorite of all time .... E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial.
It's so moving; You cry, laugh, and are overjoyed, sometimes, one, right after another. The location, actors, are all spectacular. The first time I saw it, several scenes, including the bicycle flight at night, gave me goosebumps.
Terminator 2 and Jurassic Park are close runner ups ... purely for the fact that they have amazing scenes that give you chills and excitement.
I was really pleased to see a TCM promo for "Gone with the Wind" where they played a segment with Charles S. Dutton, Richard Wesley and Donald Bogle. Mr. Dutton said that "whenever a black person says my favorite movie is Gone with the Wind, they need to sit down and talk to somebody and have their head examined." Mr. Bogle points out we are not being given correct definitions for these characters. Richard Wesley said that he remembered as a child cringing every time it came on TV.
Is this really the kind of movie you would like to pollute your otherwise flawless Great Movies Series with? We have to stop sending wrong messages to our youth. This movie was nothing but an apology for the inhuman Southern Plantation system. It was also a message to Northerners in 1939 America that blacks in the South were happy with the way things were. What could have been further from the truth?
It's time to start telling the truth about this movie and place it in the category of well made propaganda movies with other similiar films such as "Birth of a Nation" and "Triumph of the Will". TCM has stepped up and helped educate their audience. You need to step up also Roger.
One clip of the interview can be seen Here
Just having viewed Persona a second time after two years, I am left with its quite overwhelming cinemic black and white grandeur of the roaring seascape, the poetry of human faces and figures, and the exploration of human relationships and experience in the absence of faith. The vastness of the universe is in contrast to the torment and incapacity of its most evolved inhabitants. Since ,for better or worse, I seem to have sunk a little deep into Movieland, I may as well assume the title of a more serious student----this movie, precisely because of its inscrutability, seems a suitable candidate for repeated viewing to fathom "its mysteries".
Mr. Ebert,
Are there some films that everybody has seen but you?
Seems unlikely, but I'd venture there are some.
Ebert: How about "The Sound of Music?"
Also Rocky Balboa, you need to see that one. Hopefully that new 8th day of the week will be coming soon.
Mr. Ebert,
Are there some films that everybody has seen but you?
Seems unlikely, but I'd venture there are some.
Ebert: How about "The Sound of Music?"
Also Rocky Balboa, you need to see that one. Hopefully that new 8th day of the week will be coming soon.