John's Top 10 Movies of 2022 (that aren't from 2022)

As you might imagine, in my house the movies of 2022 are only part of the equation.  Last year, I saw a grand total of 312 movies, most of them first-time releases outside of 2022, stretching all the way back to films from the 1920's.  So in addition to our Top 10 of 2022 that I released this morning, I am also releasing a Top 10 of films that I saw for the first time in 2022...that weren't released in 2022.  A few of these might look familiar from our past marathons-I've included full reviews to the films if want to see my expanded thoughts on each of these.  Enjoy! 

The American Friend (1977)

dir. Wim Wenders

Wim Wenders plays with color in a way that's hard to grasp-I literally found myself pausing at key scenes of this movie because I was so struck by the beauty of what was happening onscreen.  Hopper & Ganz get into a tough duet, as both of them find that they're drawn to one another...even if they're also trying to ensure the other's doom.

Badlands (1973)

dir. Terrence Malick

For the 10th anniversary of this blog, we made a point of doing a month-long tribute to one of my all-time favorite directors Terrence Malick (hence him appearing three times on this list).  This was his first film, and narratively feels like a hipper, younger sibling to the sexiness of Bonnie & Clyde just a few years earlier.

The Blair Witch Project (1999)

dir. Daniel Myrick & Eduardo Sanchez

I genuinely remember being the only person in my high school that didn't see this in theaters, even to the point where I remember the "fake" websites associated with it.  23 years after the fact, it is beyond the hype, a fascinating look at both human nature and our ability to ensure our own doom as we wander, ever deeper into the dark.

Days of Heaven (1978)

dir. Terrence Malick

Is this the most beautiful movie ever made?  I defy you to find me a prettier one, as Malick takes an epic romance, under the guise of an increasingly loveless marriage, but more so he shows the wide expanses of an untamed America.  Flawless, and Ennio Morricone's score definitely adds to the equation.

Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

dir. Robert Aldrich

There's nothing I love more than a "march into hell" narrative in a classic detective narrative, but from the opening moments where Ralph Meeker meets a frightened Cloris Leachman (sensational in her film debut), you understand that there is no going back for anyone here-everything about this story is going to end up fighting for its life, and the unknown of "what's in the box."

Memento (2001)

dir. Christopher Nolan

Between Blair Witch, Memento, and a 1996 slasher I'm listing below, you might say that 2022 was the year I made up for a lot of what I missed by not watching R-rated zeitgeist hits in middle/high school.  Told backward, you still learn more as you go, and understand the haunting nastiness that Guy Pearce's lead has found himself in (even though he has no idea that's where he is).

Night Moves (1975)

dir. Arthur Penn

Gene Hackman, long gone from movies while the Pacino's and De Niro's continue working, was the perfect everyman in this spooky lusty neo-noir, a movie that only could have been made in the wake of Watergate...when no one trusts anyone.

Scream (1996)

dir. Wes Craven

Yes, I saw Scream for the first time this year and somehow had had very little of it spoiled.  In reality, I became obsessed with Scream this year, plowing through the series in a way that I had never thought I could with a horror franchise.  The way it first breaks horror tropes and then messes with you knowing you can't change your expectations...it's a wild, impossible-to-resist ride.

The Thin Red Line (1998)

dir. Terrence Malick

Malick's third film is perhaps the greatest anti-war film ever made, and he barely has to utter a word to make it happen.  These young men, just barely into their adulthoods, shot down before they understand who they are.  John Toll's cinematography is so telling, lingering first on the dead men, and then on the bullets that will actually be found by generations to come.

What's Up, Doc? (1972)

dir. Peter Bogdonavich

I caught this in a retro screening (the only one of these ten I caught on the big screen) by accident, and my audience...they ate it up.  Streisand has NEVER been funnier (I honestly didn't know she could be tis funny), and paired with a sexy, nerdy Ryan O'Neal, every inch of this movie (clearly borrowing from Bringing Up Baby) is a riot.

Top 10 Films of 2020 (that aren't from 2020)

All right-we will be this week (likely on Tuesday if my plans are correct) unveiling my Top 10 of 2020.  However, in every year but this year especially, I see a lot of movies, and not just ones from the 2020 calendar.  In 2020 I saw 288 movies, some repeat viewings but many classics (or not so much) that I had never seen before, and I don't want to let something like chronology get in the way of celebrating great cinema.  As a result, I've included below my Top 10 films of 2020 that I saw for the first time (that didn't come out in 2020).  Enjoy (titles are listed alphabetically)!

Anatomy of a Murder (1959)

dir. Otto Preminger

A complicated look at sexual assault (and a surprisingly modern take considering its Classical Hollywood roots), this is a 3-hour film that never feels long, and has amazing work from Jimmy Stewart & Lee Remick.

Cabin in the Sky (1943)

dir. Vincente Minnelli

Ethel Waters steals the show in Vincente Minnelli's first musical, a landmark musical featuring an all-Black cast, and a picture that proves that "happiness is just a thing called Joe."

Honeyland (2019)

dir. Tamara Kotevska & Ljubomir Stefanov

A hands-off documentary that is so rich you almost feel it's a narrative feature; it's a challenging look at poverty, loss, & our ill treatment of the planet.

if... (1968)

dir. Lindsay Anderson

Malcolm McDowell shows early shadows of Alex DeLarge in this boarding school drama, a movie that even 50 years later is shocking in its frankness about sex & violence.

Letter from an Unknown Woman (1948)

dir. Max Ophuls

Impossibly romantic, Joan Fontaine & Louis Jourdan are iconic as two lovers who alternate between passion & indifference in this forgotten masterwork.

The Misfits (1961)

dir. John Huston

A more avant-garde western than you'd expect given the stars, The Misfits is a look at the faded west & its fight against modernity.  Career-best work from Marilyn Monroe & (dare I say it?) Clark Gable.

Paper Moon (1973)

dir. Peter Bogdonavich

A gemlike father-and-daughter buddy film (on screen & off), that gives both of the O'Neal's their best work.  Proof that A+ chemistry, writing, & cinematography can always sell a picture.

Paths of Glory (1957)

dir. Stanley Kubrick

Kubrick gives us one of the best "war is hell" examples brought to cinema, with a look at the cruel politics of battle (and the finest performance from Kirk Douglas I've ever seen).

The Red Shoes (1948)

dir. Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger

One of those films that is spoken about in near reverent tones by cinephiles, Powell & Pressburger's magnum opus lives up to the hype: a modern, gorgeous tale of tragedy.

The Wind (1928)

dir. Victor Sjostrom

One of the greatest silent films I've ever seen, Lillian Gish gives the performance of a lifetime as a woman driven near mad by the harsh winds of the prairie.

Targets (1968)

Film: Targets (1968)
Stars: Tim O'Kelly, Boris Karloff, Arthur Peterson, Monte Landis, Nancy Hsueh, Peter Bogdonavich
Director: Peter Bogdonavich
Oscar History: No nominations
Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

When you read this I'll be coming back from a sojourn to visit my parents (we've all been socially distancing to do this trip, don't worry), and on that trip, I'll be listening to new episodes of my all-time favorite podcast, You Must Remember This.  This season, Karina Longworth is taking an in-depth look at the career of Polly Platt, an Oscar-nominated art director who was most famous for decades as a creative contributor (and frequent producer) of some of the most ingenious projects to come out of Hollywood, ranging from The Last Picture Show to Broadcast News to The Other Side of the Wind.  Platt's first significant film was the 1968 Roger Corman movie Targets, which was also the directorial debut of her then-husband Peter Bogdonavich.  The next episode I have in the series apparently goes quite in-depth into this movie, and since I'd always wanted to see it (and a recording of it was sitting on my DVR thanks to the eternal gift-giver TCM), this felt like the perfect time to take the opportunity.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie tells two seemingly unconnected tales that end up coming together in a petrifying final sequence.  The first story is one that Bogdonavich would intersperse into a lot of his movies and certainly into his decades of colorful anecdotes about Hollywood: the story of a Classic Hollywood actor.  In this case it's Byron Orlok (Karloff), an aging horror film actor who wants out of the business after finishing his last movie The Terror (which was, in fact, a real-life horror movie that starred Karloff and a pre-fame Jack Nicholson, so your eyes are not deceiving you when you see Jack Nicholson randomly show up in Targets, and according to legend around this movie, Nicholson sought after the other lead in this movie but wasn't given it).  Orlok has a curmudgeonly respect for his assistant Jenny (Hsueh) and a young screenwriter-director named Sammy (Bogdonavich), who has written an actually strong film that might give Orlok a new chapter in his career (meta, right?).

The other aspect of the story is around Bobby Thompson (O'Kelly), an all-American guy (handsome, young, veteran) who seems to have the world-on-the-sleeve, but whose only passion appears to be firearms.  Throughout the movie we see Bobby pretend to kill people, frequently stockpiling more and more weapons while his wife and his parents take little notice.  He eventually goes on a shooting spree, first killing his wife & mother, then shooting people randomly from a tower overlooking a freeway, and then finally shooting people at a drive-in...a drive-in showing The Terror where Byron Orlok is set to make his final appearance before retreating into retirement.

The movie up until the shooting scene at the drive-in is interesting if not always compelling.  The drive-in sequence in many ways anticipates another classic New Hollywood movie, one that I really want to name-check but it's such a surprise what happens at the end of the picture that I don't feel I should...suffice it to say, this movie was influential.  But before that scene, the O'Kelly scenes are oddly bereft of emotion.  This is a choice that I think works in hindsight, but I can't imagine how Bogdonavich had the foresight to think of making such a prototypical, 21st Century villain.  At the time, the character was based in large part on Charles Whitman, who killed 17 people in 1966, many of them at random from a tower at the University of Texas (Whitman also killed his wife and mother before his shooting rampage), and if you look at photos of Whitman and O'Kelly, they do share a similarity.  What makes Targets prescient, though, is that Whitman/Bobby Thompson fit the mold of what we think of as a 21st Century villain-straight, white, male loner obsessed with collecting weaponry & risking other people's safety.

This is what makes the final sequence at the drive-in so electric.  We know at this point that Bobby Thompson is a monster, solely intent on increasing his body count before capture or death.  We watch in horror as an audience of cars slowly realize that the danger is not the villain on the big-screen (Karloff's Orlok in The Terror), but instead a more real, actual danger.  People open their cars or speed away, trying to escape, but in the process turn on the lights, making them easier targets.  It's petrifying-one of the scariest things I've ever seen a movie.  All-the-while, there is Byron Orlok, as we come-to-understand his retirement is more about shutting out the world as he is afraid of death, not realizing that he's being confronted with it in very tangible, absolute terms.  When Orlok ultimately is the person who stops Thompson, he states "is that what I was afraid of?" as if realizing that death can come in many forms.  The film itself isn't strong enough to warrant 5-stars (the earlier sequences are too prosaic), but this is a fascinating film and a strong debut from Bogdonavich, who was about to make a trio of celebrated movies (The Last Picture Show, What's Up Doc?, and Paper Moon), and features a mesmerizing piece-of-work from Karloff, giving his final onscreen performance.

OVP: Paper Moon (1973)

Film: Paper Moon (1973)
Stars: Ryan O'Neal, Tatum O'Neal, Madeline Kahn, Randy Quaid
Director: Peter Bogdonavich
Oscar History: 4 nominations/1 win (Best Supporting Actress-Tatum O'Neal*, Supporting Actress-Madeline Kahn, Adapted Screenplay, Sound)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 5/5 stars

All week long we're looking at films from 1973, with an emphasis on Oscar-nominated films (all of which are movies I watched for the first time while on quarantine).  Yesterday we talked about the Best Supporting Actor winner The Paper Chase, so it felt appropriate to bookend that movie with the Best Supporting Actress winner of that year, the youngest victor in Oscar history, Tatum O'Neal.  Both, weirdly, were at the beginnings of their film acting career, though O'Neal was some sixty years Houseman's junior.  Houseman had become a theater legend at that point, but in terms of film acting he'd only had two bit parts, one of which was uncredited, before he won his Oscar for The Paper Chase.  O'Neal won for her first film proper, playing opposite her dad in the similarly-titled Paper Moon.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie is about Moze Pray (Ryan O'Neal), a devilishly handsome (seriously-the elder O'Neal has never looked better) con artist who sells Bibles to widows for a profit, and a young girl named Addie (Tatum O'Neal) whose mother has recently died, and who has no one to take her to live with her aunt in Missouri.  Moze is basically asked to drive Addie to the train station, but upon realizing that Moze used her dead mother to secure $200 in a con, Addie demands that he pay her back the money, and she won't leave his side until he does.  Thus, an unlikely pair heads off on a road trip, and Addie quickly brings finesse to Moze's schtick, getting him more money and helping him to pull off more sophisticated cons.  Along the way, they meet an exotic dancer named Trixie Delight (Kahn), with whom Moze is smitten, but Addie isn't (she quickly schemes with Trixie's maid on a way to eliminate the "competition"), and they form a bond.  In the end, this is enough of a bond that even though Moze (after a botched bootlegging scheme) is broke-and-beaten-down, Addie picks a life on the road with him rather than the more secure world of her aunt's home.

The bulk of the film is predicated on the relationship between Addie-and-Moze, and whether or not you find it endearing or dangerous.  It's pretty clear, both in casting his actual daughter (who looks like him, though in my opinion she does indeed favor her real-life mother actress Joanna Moore) and in the way they structure the film that we're meant to believe that Addie is Moze's biological child, and thus he does owe her some sort of debt outside of the monetary.  This unspoken truth hangs beautifully over the movie-there's a sense of Moze realizing not just of an obligation to himself to expect more from this life, but of Addie getting a second chance on a parent after her first one dies tragically before the film commences.

The movie itself is not breaking new ground, but I loved it.  Paper Moon is the kind of gemlike picture you can't stop watching, and are just engrossed in fully.  It helps that the movie has a dynamo pair of leads.  Ryan O'Neal has charisma, sex appeal, and just enough rascal in his Moze to make this one of his best performances.  His daughter is a natural, and feeds off of that energy.  It's always hard to tell how much credit you should give a child actor's performance to the director (and it's hard to get a gage on that when the director is as fascinating but immodest as Peter Bogdonavich), but O'Neal is riveting from start-to-finish.  It's not remotely fair to call this a supporting part-she's in virtually every scene of the movie (I'd be willing to bet she has more screen-time than her dad), and it's the most egregious case of category fraud I've ever witnessed...but she's awesome in it.  I totally get the impulse to give her this Oscar, even if when we get to the OVP write-ups I'm going to have to knock a star off of her score to put her competitors on the same field.

The film's other nominations are all well-earned too.  Bogdonavich felt of the era by filming the movie in pristine black-and-white (today this would have gotten a Cinematography nomination), and it crackles with period songs & radio shows, as well as great detail in the sound work.  The screenplay is a delight-quippy one-liners, it manages to feel authentic while never falling into cliche (and this is a road picture, so opportunity for cliche is blooming everywhere).  It had to suck for Madeline Kahn, who is in about 12 minutes of the movie, to compete against someone in her own movie that was in so much of the picture, but she still brings finesse.  There's a wonderful moment where she's trying to win over Addie, and in the process delivers a summary not just of the tricks that you know she's tried on other girl's with handsome fathers, but soon she starts confessing the problems of her life, how men never seem to stick around, even when she hopes they will.  It's the sort of character work that Kahn would bring to all of her performances (such a brilliant actress), and might have even won her an Oscar...were it not for the little girl she finally convinces to smile taking up the rest of the movie.