Top 10 Criterion Films
A Foolish Task
My god what a terrible endeavor.
Was having a conversation with some fellow film enthusiasts, spurred on by watching Willem Dafoe digging through the Criterion Closet. It ultimately lead to one person asking what other people’s Top 10 Criterion Films are.
I genrally try to avoid such lists, but I actually started scanning Criterion’s catalogue. It wasn’t long before I realized just how insane it would be pick 10, considering some much of the Criterion Collection involves some of the greatest works of film art.
As someone mentioned, one could basically make a list of just 10 Kurosawa films they’ve released and it would be just as valid as anyone else’s.
In an effort to maximize my time, I made a rule of one movie per director but even then I'm faced with very dire choices.
And really it's not so much the cutting of movies down to 10. For me lists are about sharing why a movie is so wonderful, and the act of choosing which movies not to talk about is excruciating.
So La Belle et la Bête (Cocteau, 1946) is not in my top ten, but you need to see it!
The Burmese Harp (Ichikawa, 1956) is not in my top ten but it's incredible.
A Top 100 of very honorable mentions would need to accompany such a Top 10.
I just can't do it.
But in no certain order...
1. M (Lang, 1931)
My favorite movie of all time? It is the only one on this list that is consistently in any list of favorites I ever do.
Peter Lorre performs on a different level here. He plays a child murderer, but portrays the character not solely as a monster, but as an completely pathetic human that succumbs to monstrous urges.
Fritz Lang masterfully blends Hollywood style with German Expressionism, to create haunting, layered images, that draw you deeper into darkness.
M takes a pretty black and white awful topic and imbues it with human complexity and pity. There are some days I wonder if that's beautiful or dangerous.
2. Rules of the Game (Renoir, 1939)
I think most of my favorite films have a firm grasp of composition, framing, and blocking - in addition to great stories/performances/characters.
It's generally en vogue to make movies about how terrible rich people are, but Jean Renoir’s Rules of the Game does something better. It not only shows the crass carelessness of the elite, but also shows that this awfulness is in all of us - master or servant. Most importantly it has empathy. As senseless as these characters behave, they're still human beings. "You see, in this world, there is one awful thing, and that is that everyone has their reasons". Everyone is more than capable of being a fucking mess and justifying it to themselves and whoever will listen.
3. Red Desert (Antonioni, 1964)
My favorite Michelangelo Antonioni film, but the rest of his work is exceptional and would on any list. Red Desert is madness and a movie I've obsessed over for years now.
I think Monica Vitti's character perfectly encapsulates any period of anxiety around modernity. From industrialization to the nuclear age to home computers to Artificial Intelligence, the progress of mankind can alienate those unprepared and Antonioni/Vitti capture it here. The beauty, the ugly and the overwhelming nature of it. Incredible cinematography here - some of the best images produced on film.
4. Story of a Prostitute (Suzuki, 1965)
Only one Suzuki, but I could say so many. Tokyo Drifter. Youth of the Beast. Branded to Kill. Gate of Flesh. I could go on. He is a huge inspiration to me. I think he altered the way I appreciated genre films for the better, without irony. This man made chaotic experiments and was willing to make messes, and that is where some real magic happens.
If I were to tell you this movie was a romance between a prostitute and a soldier during WW2, and that their love is threatened by the tyranny of military, duty and honor - you'd think it was a prestige Oscar bait film. It is not. Suzuki sees it through the kind of tragicomic absurdity that Camus would be proud of. His gift is that he can go so far out, and still get right at the truth of it. Great movie.
5. Throne of Blood (Kurosawa, 1957)
Ohohohoh One Kurosawa and it's not the one you thiiiiink. Throne of Blood made me love Shakespeare. Seeing his interpretation of Macbeth changed how I looked at the Bard’s words.
Any time Toshiro Mifune is wildin’ out is a good time. One of the most electrifying actors, his films can become classics just off of his presence alone.
And of course most of Kurosawa’s work could/should be on this list. Drunken Angel, Stray Dog, and anything with a samurai. His films are so humane, and like other movies mentioned here - he’s a master of framing, blocking and movement.
6. Black Narcissus (Powell & Pressburger, 1947)
Nuns go to the Himalayas and start to lose themselves. I watch this movie and I’m still not sure if the self-control required to be a nun is toxic or divine. On one hand it feels unhealthy to deny oneself so much, and that human nature cannot exist under such conditions. On the other hand, the control required seems admirable and inspiring.
Jack Cardiff produces some of the most intoxicating Technicolor images in film history. I watched this with Gail and we were just stunned by every moment.
Also check out W. Percy Day’s matte paintings in this – they make the world feel magical that perhaps some CGI landscapes fail to do. This is a dead film making technique that required real talent to pull of effectively.
And then there’s Kathleen Byron as Sister Ruth who just wants to get down. There are some mesmerizing and haunting images of her in this film, that will stay with me forever.
Even though Powell and Pressburger’s greatness is recognized by many film buffs, I still feel they’re underappreciated.
7. Kiss Me Deadly (Aldrich, 1955)
Had to put a noir on this list, and Kiss Me Deadly is a game changer. Th
is movie was a huge influence on the fourth season of our podcast, Fifty Cent Souls. We just replaced the looming presence of nuclear nightmares with Cthulhu horror. Or at least mixed the two up.
Kiss Me Deadly’s Mike Hammer is both ultra masculine and undeniably toxic, and I like that the film knows that. He’s kind of the perfect guy to solve this puzzle, but also not a guy you admire or want to be like.
The ending of this film is unsettling and I think of it often. It feels like the movie goes from typical noir mystery to a surreal horror show, and the switch flips so fast that you’re unprepared for it. Before you know it, it’s over.
8. Nashville (Altman, 1975)
Just one Altman? Ugh.
3 Women is a favorite of mine, but I go back to Nashville the most.
I just like the weird social community of it, characters thread by other characters. The way it portrays the hierarchy of the Nashville music scene feels cult like. There are the people at the center who are most important and and everyone is trying to say and do the right thing to get closer to them. It’s like trying to reach spiritual nirvana through the some down home country music, but it’s really about money and marketing.
That sounds a little cynical, but like so many of the other films on this list, the characters are still human and Altman watches them with empathy and perhaps a dash of sly skepticism.
I often watch this and feel simultaneously more grounded in my feet, but more desperate for human interaction.
9. Rosemary's Baby (Polanski, 1968)
I had to put a horror film on here and this is one of the all time greatest ever.
It’s really the image of Mia Farrow’s shallow, anemic features while nine months pregnant that stick with me. It’s like she’s being hollowed out from the inside by this monster, that we don’t realize is a monster until the end.
John Cassavetes really embodies a desperate actor, without being slimy or cynical in his portrayal. Most movies would make his character much more self-centered and vain, the way they depict instagram influencers today. But Cassavetes’s character feels like someone you could’ve fallen in love with, some one who treats you right. And that makes the ending even much more tragic.
10. The Gold Rush (Chaplin, 1925)
So many films could’ve gone here. Too many to list. But The Gold Rush is an important part of my cinephilia. In high school I decided to older movies form the video store – real classics. I looked for work by great directors and actors. The Gold Rush was one of those early films, that absolutely grabbed me and pulled me into this obsession with cinema.
I think when you’re young you need something to key you into enjoying older movies. Otherwise you’ll just go for whatever is current, which puts you at the tumultuous whims of whatever trends among Hollywood and art house cinema a like. You have to have something that instills that wonder and curiosity for movies from a time that is not your own. Hitchcock and Kurosawa did that, opening the door to the 1950’s and 60’s. Charlie Chaplin and The Gold Rush removed the door entirely, allowing teenage me to enjoy the entire history of this art form, from the silents to today.
Final Thoughts
Sigh. I’ve left off Agnes Varda and feel like a monster. Most of her films, and some of my favorites of hers, I saw before Criterion released a box set, so I erroneously don’t think of them as “Criterion films” yet. But her whole body of work is just monumental, and every one should watch every movie they can of hers.
Looking back over this list, I think a key theme is a film’s ability to open up my ability to see the world. Those are the best films. They keep opening doors for you to explore the complexity of human existence.
To make a list of only ten, feels like I’m denying parts of my soul from being shared. But it’s okay, sharing one’s soul should probably be a gradual process, perhaps done at the speed of 10 films at a time.
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