You're not special, and you can't pretend it doesn't happen. You can't sit there and tell me that, at least once a day, some garbage song doesn't, for no apparent reason, wind up planted in your dome. It happens to us all, and because I don't live inside your brain, I've begun to feel like lately, that it happens more often to me.
With that, I give you the latest feature of irregular publication: "This Time. I Losin' My Mind, This Time" wherein we'll take a quick look at the random ditties that seeped out of memory vault the previous week.
A few notes first, though: a) This is a fascinating phenomenon, and I challenge you to get all psychoanalytic on yourself and figure out how songs get into your head, and how much variation there is between songs regarding duration within your melon (and by God, if you come up with a good tactic for evacuating them, please share). b) Songs that you hear, sing, see, or say do not count. c) Not all songs that pop into your head suck, but on the whole it seems that most of them do.
5. "Subdivisions" by Rush
Rush has to have one of the strangest followings around. I mean, most hard-core Rush fans are pretty goofy dudes, are they not? You know: There's that sort of stuck-in-a-time-warp, loneristic aspect to them. I'm not judging. Hell, I think Rush kicks all the ass. You know what kicks all the all the ass, though? Geddy Lee's mullet in that video.
4. "Lightnin' Strikes" by Lou Christie
In 1980 my mom and her sister Suzi bought matching Toyota Corollas. My aunt lived with us at the time, and so these things were parked side-by-side in our driveway. There were two primary differences between the two: My aunt's was silver on the outside with a black interior, while my mom's had an orange exterior, was beige on the inside.
More importantly, my mom's had only AM radio. My mom also had this car for about eight years, which meant that for most of a decade, Oldies 71 WHB was hammered day and night into my brain. I like the oldies. Don't get me wrong. It's just that 30 years later, I don't need Lou Christie screaming between my ears at random moments of my day.
3. "So Long, Farewell" from the The Sound of Music soundtrack
I don't really have much to say about this one. It's a touch embarrassing, and I can't for the life of me figure out how it got there.
All I know is that I was washing my hair and bam! -- there it was, at like five o'clock in the morning. Really? It's not even light out and the friggin' Von Trapp family's waltzing around in my noggin. At least let a guy get a cup of coffee first. I haven't even watched that movie in like 20 years. Stupid brain.
Make no mistake, though. I'd go musical/soundtrack all day and night if it kept me safe from the likes of number two:
2. "Blue Morning, Blue Day" by Foreigner
Know what's worse than Foreigner? I'll tell you: Having been a kid who at one point actually thought Foreigner was good, a kid that actually owned some Foreigner. If you're still on the fence, let me clear it up for you: Foreginer blows. Everything about them. I'm serious. I don't care if you like to jump off the dining room table while you air guitar "Jukebox Hero" or if you think the riff from "Urgent" is cool, or if you gave up the V-card to "Waiting for a Girl Like You." This band is terrible (Editor's Note: If you want to make an exception for "Star Rider," I'll hear you out.). I hear them and I want to pierce my temples with rusty shears.
That said, Foreigner is the best band in rock history when you compare them with my last week's number one:
1. "If I Had a Million Dollars" by the Barenaked Ladies
Please. I'm begging you. If you're going to click the play icon on that video, do everyone within earshot a favor first, and murder them.
Part of me was tempted to do a touch of research for each of these songs. You know, tell you what year they came out, the name of the album they were on, what kind of sales the album had, and maybe even where the song reached on the charts.
Here's what stopped me, though: It's bad enough to have a God-damned Barenaked Ladies song in your head, and it's even worse to know a few of their tracks. What's intolerable, though, is having some BNL trivia wedged in your folds for the rest of forever.
I mean, what happens if I'm drunk at a party and the opportunity arises to wax Barenaked, and I jump on it without thinking twice? That's a fall from social grace I don't think I'm equipped to handle. Plus, the thought of discussing them in public is making me throw up in my mouth a little bit.
Anyway, though. Those are last week's cuts. We'll do this again next week with this week's. See how this works? Pretty easy. Read more
What does the word "Hollywood" conjure for you? Hopes? Dreams? Fame? Your own star? For us here at the House of Georges, it means another category for us to write about.
This is part two of our actors installment, and in case you missed part one, you can find where I offered this intro -- "we draft the pieces of each category, fantasy-sports style, write a blurb about 'em (unless we don't feel like it), rank them (unless it's one of those rather lazy years), and post them. When we rank them, it's usually all three of us, but this time around, only two of us did, which is why you'll see the screwy numbering system..." here.
Some assorted version of our top 10, just past the jump. 12.(two-way tie)Morgan Freeman
bankmeister: I remember Morgan Freeman roles in three 1989 films: “Glory,” Driving Miss Daisy,” and “Lean on Me.” I also remember that a) This was most likely my first exposure to him, and b) he was solid in all three films. It’s entirely possible that Freeman’s Red was a better delivery than Tim Robbins’ Andy Dufresne in “The Shawshank Redemption,” and it’s entirely possible that that was one of the best three films of the 1990s. Freeman was great in “Seven,” fantastic in each “Batman” piece, charming in “The Bucket List,” and impressive in “Gone Baby Gone.”
He deserves credit for his part in “Million Dollar Baby,” applause for his efforts in “Outbreak” (even if it was a terrible film), and some serious cred’ for his role in “Unforgiven.”
But here’s the real thing about Morgan Freeman: He’s a mellow dude who does every role he plays justice, and he will always warm your heart with that unforgettable voice. Even in “Gone Baby Gone,” where Freeman took on a rare antagonist role, a part of you, the viewer, wants to root for him, because he’s that good. Freeman deserves more credit than this small write-up can generate. He’s been a touchstone in the world of cinema for a long time, and one could argue that his five Oscar nominations (one win for “Million Dollar Baby") are too few.
Julianne Moore
bankmeister: Here’s where things might get a touch off track. I’m of the opinion that, from time to time, heterosexual film-viewers are best-equipped to judge actors of their same gender. In short, you can rule out the attraction factor. Well, I mean, unless you’re a dude that’s just really into the DiCaprios, the Clooneys, the Pitts, etc. My point is that I can, or rather, have, judged a performance by a male actor with a greater cinematic-talent-related passion than I have for almost every actress I’ve seen on the big screen. Why? Probably because I have testosterone pumping through my veins and I either determine that she’s a) hot, b) not, c) annoying, d) not good, or e) any combination of the preceding, and probably in that order. I mean, I was bat-shit nuts for Transformers as a kid, but I wasn’t that interested in seeing the movie, save for the massive erection the words “Megan” and “Fox” tend to give when placed side-by-side. Or take Sally Field, for example. I’ve always dug her. “Places in the Heart,” Forrest Gump,” Mrs. Doubtfire,” etc. But I also happen to think that Sally Field is rather attractive. Always have. Thus, a dilemma. I’m sure there are more than one actress that applies to what I’m about to say, but Julianne Moore has always given me a nice ratio-y feeling of both tightness in the pants and standing ovation. It should be noted, however, that I’d probably go all middle school and refrain from participating in the latter were I experiencing the former.
But she’s dynamite. I don’t remember if I saw “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle,” but I seem to be recall it being a successful film. Dug her small role in “The Fugitive,” and I think anyone that starred in both “Boogie Nights” and “The Big Lebowski” deserves massive credit. And a roll in the hay with yours truly, but let’s not get sidetracked.
Julianne Moore has been in many films in the last decade, i.e. “Laws of Attraction,” “Blindness,” and “Hannibal,” but I’m forever moved by her role as Linda Partridge in “Magnolia.” Moore as Partridge in that movie makes me a little too squeamish to even write about it, so have a refresher on the House:
That’s all I can really say about her. She rocks, she’s hot as hell, and she’s been nominated for more -- and won a few -- awards than I care to look up.
11.5. Kevin Spacey
Cecil: Rumor has it that there is something Kevin Spacey is…hiding, shall we say. A secret that, if it were to become common knowledge, would have serious implications for his future employment prospects and potentially change the way America thinks about this fine actor.
And while those particular pieces of information might change some minds/confirm some suspicions, they certainly don’t lessen Spacey’s talent.
This, after all, is Keyser Soze. That part alone should secure him a lifetime of steady income, free drinks and exemption from local smoking laws. But there have been so many others: his Oscar turn in American Beauty, his bit as the flashy celebrity detective in "L.A. Confidential," as the killer in "Se7en," the murderer in "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil" -- hell, the late ‘90s were a pretty solid time for ol’ Kev.
He hasn’t done as much recently, evidently spending most of his artistic energies at London’s Old Vic Theatre Company, but when you have as many skins on the wall as he does, you can afford to tread the boards for a while. Kevin Spacey is a hell of an actor and indisputably one of the best of the last 25 years, but you may not want to wait on his table.
7.5. Johnny Depp
Cecil: The thing about Johnny Depp is that the chicks love him. Admit it, especially if you are one. You know it’s true. Those aquiline features, that pouty mouth, that hair…good gravy, I better stop before I give myself a boner.
The other thing about Johnny Depp is that he is a great actor. A seriously committed, boundary -- destroying actor who fits as easily in a Hollywood blockbuster as he does in independent cinema. For every "Pirates of the Caribbean" sequel, there’s an Ed Wood -- only one of the finest movies of the last 20 years -- or a "Chocolat", a "Donnie Brasco" or a "What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?"
Unlike some of the more recognizable big-banksters in the modern movie industry (looking at you, Jack Nicholson) Depp never got lazy and fell into the trap of just playing Johnny Depp in every movie. It would have been easy for him, especially early in his career; say, right after "Edward Scissorhands." But instead of taking such an easy, yet likely still extremely lucrative, way out, he stretched into everything from comedy to police procedural dramas to whacked-out indie fare that film students in clunky black glasses and argyle sweaters line up to watch at midnight showings countrywide. Hell, he’s even gone back to TV for a few voice parts. One of which, hilariously, was in a "SpongeBob SquarePants" episode.
Depp’s certainly got his flaws: his membership in the cult of Hunter S. Thompson has led him to help make Thompson’s widely panned "Rum Diaries" into a movie, for instance, and that isn’t likely to end well. He also supposedly smells really bad. But on the balance, there simply aren’t too many others like him. Remember how the Beastie Boys were in ’89, well-loved by seemingly everyone, regardless of taste or class -- Depp is the Gen X actor version of that, but with a lot more "Paul’s Boutique"s on his resume than "Holy Snappers."
9.5. Harvey Keitel
bankmeister: When I first visited Harvey Keitel’s IMDB page, I was shocked to see how busy the man had been in the last quarter century. Seriously? Ninety projects in the last 25 years? For reals? Without crunching any numbers, I’m mathematically qualified to say that I have not seen the majority of these productions. The ones I have, however, are A-1, top-notch quality. Allow me to mention that I have never seen “Thelma & Louise,” so I am unqualified to comment on the role of Hal in that film. I do, however, know that many a female cinema buff has lauded the project for its authenticity and spontaneity. Moving on. In 1992 a film by the name of “Reservoir Dogs” was released. Perhaps you’ve heard of it. Harvey Keitel played Mr. White, and he played him well. He also co-produced the film.
If you have not seen this film, stop reading right now, and go watch it. It is the symbol of badassery, the archetype for studliness, and a how-to for being a cold-blooded killer. Not that I want you to learn how to be one. I’m just sayin’. If you don’t believe me, see exhibit A:
“When you're dealing with a store like this, they're insured up the ass. They're not supposed to give you any resistance whatsoever. If you get a customer, or an employee, who thinks he's Charles Bronson, take the butt of your gun and smash their nose in. Everybody jumps. He falls down screaming, blood squirts out of his nose, nobody says fucking shit after that. You might get some bitch talk shit to you, but give her a look like you're gonna smash her in the face next, watch her shut the fuck up. Now if it's a manager, that's a different story. Managers know better than to fuck around, so if you get one that's giving you static, he probably thinks he's a real cowboy, so you gotta break that son of a bitch in two. If you wanna know something and he won't tell you, cut off one of his fingers. The little one. Then tell him his thumb's next. After that he'll tell you if he wears ladies underwear. I'm hungry. Let's get a taco.”
For those desiring something briefer: “You shoot me in a dream, you’d better wake up and apologize.”
Obviously, Mr. Keitel did not write those lines, but the manner in which he delivered those gems, and many more, were nothing shy of stellar. Up next, though, is another little bad-ass project I like to call “Pulp Fiction.”
The purpose of this selection is not to debate whether “Reservoir Dogs” was better than “Pulp Fiction,” or the reverse. Both films still gleam with awesomeness, and that debate is for some other guy on some other job. The purpose of this transition, is to illustrate that Mr. Keitel’s role as Winston “The Wolf” Wolfe was a microcosm of his role in “Fiction”; If the Wolfe role is exacerbated to the level of White, the scales of intensity and intimidation balance.
Again, if you have not seen this film, stop reading this instant, and watch it. I doubt that’s necessary, however, as those who’ve not seen it are likely either younger than 15, or older than 60, and the chances of those age groups strolling through the front door of the House are non-existent. But, Wolfe makes his appearance in the storyline as an aces guy, your go-to guy when catastrophe strikes. His task is to facilitate the detailing of a car in which a guy’s head accidentally exploded. He’s got to move quickly, and he’s quick to alert Jules and Vincent who’s in charge:
“Now boys, listen up. We're going to a place called Monster Joe's Truck and Tow. I'll drive the tainted car. Jules, you ride with me. Vincent, you follow in my Acura. We run across the path of any John Q. Laws, nobody does a fucking thing unless I do it first. What did I just say?”
There’s easily 3000 more words we could say about this role, but we’re already into extra innings with Mr. Keitel, and there’s another project of his we must discuss: “Smoke.”
Just as it would be foolish of me to suggest that any of our readers have not viewed “Pulp Fiction” or “Reservoir Dogs,” it would be silly for me to think that all of you have seen “Smoke.” And since that’s the case, we won’t spend too much time on it. I will, however, offer this little nugget: “Smoke” successfully tackled to motif of lives comingling without intention before it became popular, and Keitel, along with fellow cast members Forest Whitaker, William Hurt, and Stockard Channing, made this a really rich piece. The line, “If you can’t share your secrets with your friends, then what kind of friend are you?” is one that succinctly touches on the movie’s theme.
Finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention “Inglorious Basterds,” a picture in which Keitel had the smallest of roles. In fact, his face never even makes the screen, but in case you were wondering: Any film with Keitel in it is automatically better than it would’ve been without him.
6. Robert DeNiro
Cecil: Writing a bit about Bobby DeNiro seems somehow unnecessary. What do you all need to be told? That’s he’s arguably the most important American actor of the last three decades? That his body of work is nearly untouchable, a seemingly limitless skein of Oscar-winning and otherwise critically masturbated-over films marred only by the occasional appearance of a Focker? That he and his filmic BFF Martin Scorsese carved what became an entire genre (which I will hereby name “the Rise & Fall of the American Mafioso” unless someone else has already) from the pages of a few tell -- all books and some New York sidewalk scenery?
I mean, yeah, I guess. I’ll get past that requirement by just typing "Goodfellas," "Casino," "Raging Bull," "Mean Streets," "Taxi Driver." There you go. Oh, wait, forgot "Heat," "Godfather II," "A Bronx Tale," "The Untouchables," "Brazil," "Once Upon A Time in America," "Analyze This"…wait, what?
At this point, DeNiro’s greatness --his intense devotion to the Method, his willingness to subsume himself in his parts, his surprisingly genuine capacity for comedy -- seems old hat. We’ve all seen him be Jimmy the Gent in "Goodfellas" a hundred times, heard him as Travis Bickle say “are you…talking to me?” repeated in a thousand situations. It seems lazy to just throw him up near the top of our list, like telling a visitor to New York to see the Empire State Building, selecting whoever the Steelers’ starting center is for the Pro Bowl or claiming Ginger as your favorite Spice girl.
But here’s the thing: there’s no real choice involved. Fact is, you do want to see the Empire State Building. Because it is the motherfucking Empire State Building. The Steelers are always guaranteed to have a badass, potential HoFer at center and what, you were going to choose that toothless chav Sporty? No matter how many Stiller-generated carcasses he throws into the ocean from here on out, there’s simply no denying that we couldn’t make this list without putting DeNiro near the top.
4.5. Denzel Washington
Old No. 7:Good things about Denzel: He’s really good. Strong, forceful presence in every role. Teamed up with Spike Lee to make a series of groundbreaking, powerful films. Seems like a likeable guy.
Bad things about Denzel: He makes a lot of crappy movies, especially lately. Doesn’t have a ton of range, plays a similar guy quite often. Never takes supporting roles, with the exception of his cool turn in Inside Man, which is a pretty awesome film. Lakers fan.
My fun story that’s only tangentially about Denzel Washington goes like this: I was in Canton, Ohio for John Elway’s induction into the Pro Football Hall of Fame in 2004. Before the Hall of Fame Game between the Broncos and Redskins, I parked next to a group of older African-American gentlemen with Virginia plates, decked out in 'Skins gear. In talking to them, I noticed they all had official-looking VIP badges. Turns out the guy I was haggling with, trying to sell an Elway T-shirt to, was the real life Herman Boone -- the coach Denzel played in "Remember The Titans." He told a fun yarn about being on the sideline for a game at the University of Minnesota when Brad Van Pelt, whose son Bradlee and I concurrently matriculated at Colorado State and who was a the time a rookie QB for the Broncos, tore his jersey. Coach Boone picked up the scrap of Spartan jersey fabric, which said, “Van Pelt,” and hung it on the wall of his workshop at home. I served many a beer to Bradlee Van Pelt when I bartended in college. This is all a roundabout way to say that Denzel Washington is a fine thespian.
4.(two-way tie) Tom Hanks
bankmeister: Tom Hanks was my number-one pick, and trying to summarize his career in a blip of a blog post is a bit of a daunting task. Once, in a graduate-school writers workshop, I made this comment about a colleague’s story: “I really like” that character “because Everyman can relate to him.” My professor killed me, inquiring what “relate” meant, and asking my definition to go into more detail, and the answer to my definition into further detail, and so forth, until he pointed out that, in his opinion, we can’t really “relate” to anyone. We can only have similar experiences, and identify clusters of emotions associated with those particular experiences. At the end of the class, I left the room having appreciated the exercise, feeling like I learned something. I still value his points, but I don’t think humanity is that bleak.
I can relate to the characters -- or at least I think I can -- that Tom Hanks plays, and he plays them well.
We’ll start with “Splash.” We’ve all known love. We’ve known a love that inflated our minds to an expansion we never thought possible. Many of us are familiar with a love so powerful that, when, confronted with the reality of an impossibility within that love, the world literally seems to stop moving. And maybe some of us have pined over the impossibility, ultimately deciding that a plunge into the sea, regardless of science and anatomy is the only logical choice acceptable.
How about “Big”? Not every small boy has wanted to be big, but I’d guess that the majority of us have. I know I did. I also think, were you to tweak a few details, that most girls could relate to this very phenomenon, too. We’ve all seen the film a hundred times, but it’s worth mentioning the scenes where he checks his drawers, where he is presented with unfamiliar foods, where he touches his first boob, or where he remembers again -- and maybe values for the first time -- what it means to be a boy.
I don’t think we need to spend much time on “Sleepless in Seattle.” The whole cast was great in that one. And Hanks killed it in “Philadelphia,” portraying a controversial role in a questionable time. I’ve talked at length about “Forrest Gump,” but will say once more that it’s top three on my all-time-favorite list, and I don’t know that it lands such a high spot if someone else is Gump.
The world of animated films has grown immeasurably in the last 25 years, and there’s something special about being able to identify an inanimate character’s face with the voice of the actor speaking the lines. Woody from “Toy Story” might be the best example out there.
“Saving Private Ryan” might be one of the best films of the century. Hanks gets a ton of that credit, just as he does for his role as Paul Edgecomb in “The Green Mile.” Way underrated film, spectacular performance that delivers an example of the beauty of life, the unidentifiable thing associated with the concept of a miracle.
There are a hundred other things you could say about Hanks, and dozens of projects he’s given us. I enjoyed “Bachelor Party.” Where would such a rite of passage be without the film? “The Man with One Red Shoe” was entertaining, and “The Money Pit” was comical. “The burbs” was an odd role for Hanks, albeit entertaining, and “Turner and Hooch” was easily the best pet-love flick of the generation.
So what is it about him? Does he have the gift of perfect-role selection? Is he a good actor in great slots? Is he a great actor in good slots? Did he become what he became because there was a cinematic void to be filled? I’d argue that it’s a combination of all of it, and that, in the end, the deliveries with which he’s graced Hollywood, are relatable on a very real, very human level.
Philip Seymour Hoffman
Old No. 7: Let’s just call Hoffman the Peyton Manning of actors, only he chokes far less regularly in the postseason. In terms of technical skill, technique and mastery of craft, no other performer can match Hoffman’s body of work. I’m not sure of what their final rankings will be, but the only reason I personally ranked DiCaprio ahead of Hoffman was that Leo has that leading-man “it” quality that Hoffman lacks. The Brady gene to Hoffman’s Manning chromosome, if you will.
Phil started out like a lot of these guys, doing bit parts and TV roles before making the big leagues. I’ll go ahead and select his appearance in "Boogie Nights" as his first major role in my eyes. As the sort-of-gay Scotty hanging on in the porn world, Hoffman nailed a sweet-yet-uncomfortable persona that was to become a trademark. He took another comic turn in the Coen Brothers’ "The Big Lebowski" before getting all serious with his first run of heavy drama and Oscar nominations ("Magnolia," "The Talented Mr. Ripley" and "Flawless").
Does he play a lot of gay dudes? Sure. Am I, paradoxically, both defiantly homophobic and a proud social liberal who supports gay marriage? Absolutely. And so I’m just as on board with Hoffman as I would be if Alex Rodriguez or Tony Gonzalez finally emerged from their closets of shame. If you’re great at what you do, I could care less whose stool you push in.
Luckily, for a more casual stoner film fan like myself, he anchored Cameron Crowe’s "Almost Famous" as rock critic Lester Bangs. That movie could have been terrible, as the rest of the cast was comprised of hacks, but Hoffman essentially made it watchable all by himself. He had kick-ass roles in any number of other praiseworthy movies, like "Punch Drunk Love," "25th Hour", "Cold Mountain," and "Capote." But in my mind, the pinnacle of Philip Seymour Hoffman greatness is "Doubt." He goes toe to toe with fellow legend Meryl Streep, and the quality of both actors’ performances is such that by the end you still don’t know if Hoffman’s Father Flynn is a great guy or a slimy pedophile. Watch it again and again, you still don’t know. That, friends, is good actin’ there. I’m rarely able to convince people that I may not be a child molester.
Also, Hoffman plays Art Howe in the "Moneyball" movie. Uh, sure.
3. Daniel Day-Lewis
bankmeister: Daniel Day-Lewis could be the largest man-crush I’ve ever had. It might’ve been my age, or whatever was going on in my life at the time, but I fell in love with “The Last of the Mohicans” the first time I saw it, and DDL promptly became one of my favorites of the big screen. It would be foolish to attempt to analyze the awards for which he’s been nominated, won, so we won’t. We’ll just pick a few of his roles that fall within our window.
The natural starting point would be “The Unbearable Lightness of Being,” but I can’t really get into that film because I’ve only seen it once. It’s nearly three hours long, fairly intense, and far too historical to adequately cover after one viewing. I think it was one of those loved-it/hated-it, divisive-type films, but I’ll just say I recommend it.
Up next is “My Left Foot,” and, in my estimation, that picture cannot be adequately summarized in either 1000, or 5000 words. Perhaps somewhere in the middle. The picture, though, is amazingly intense and slow at the same time. The way Day-Lewis immersed himself in that role (won Oscar for best actor) is commendable, and something I’ll touch on momentarily. I’ve spent plenty of time discussing “The Last of the Mohicans,” so I’ll move on to “In the Name of the Father,” which might be my all-time favorite DDL role. A largely underrated film, one that wasn’t too successful in the box office, the story behind it is fantastic, DDL’s role (nominated for Oscar, best actor) a can’t miss.
I won’t spend any time on “The Boxer,” because it was way too slow, but DDL delivers another noteworthy performance in it, which brings us to “Gangs of New York.” Historically, Old No. 7 and I almost never agree on anything cinema-related, but we’ve made a couple recent strides. If you put all of our movie talks into a pie chart, “Gangs” would embody the Pac-Man-shaped portion, everything else the open mouth. He hates most everything about it, save DDL, and Leo, I think. He has a much keener eye for all of the inner workings that go into a production. I, on the other hand, can see a performance like Day-Lewis’ in “Gangs,” which was phenomenal we both agree, and determine that such a display of acting thereby makes the film superb.
Bill the Butcher scared the ever-loving snot out of me, and I felt comfortable with my fear. Mind-blowing performance (Oscar-nominated, best actor), bar none.
This leaves us with “There Will Be Blood.” He’s obviously been in other pictures and projects, but that’s not the point. The point centers on this conversation I had with my mother-in-law. She doesn’t like DDL because she “can tell that he gets into his role and stays in it until the picture’s done.” I say that’s the work of pure genius. I didn’t think I’d ever be as intimidated by another role like I was Bill Cutting, let alone a character portrayed by the same actor. DDL’s portrayal of Bill Plainview, however, was disturbing, powerful, and deservedly so, earned him the Oscar for best actor. For my money, Day-Lewis has been one of the top three actors of my lifetime, and I doubt that’ll change anytime soon.
...drum roll, please...
Your number, uh, two-point-five actor in the last 25 years is...
2.5. Leonardo DiCaprio
Old No. 7: I am of the opinion that DiCaprio is the reigning pound-for-pound champ in this gay actor business. Among all the fellows currently drawing checks from studios, he has the title belt. Once derided as the teeny-bopper pretty boy from "Titanic," DiCaprio’s recent run of fucking killing a series of monster roles pushes him to the front of the line.
Here’s the Decade of DiCaprio, from which I’ve excluded such drivel as "Revolutionary Road," "Gangs Of New York," "Catch Me If You Can," "The Aviator," "The Departed," "Blood Diamond," "Shutter Island," "Inception." And even though I’ve argued endlessly with Banky about whether "Gangs" sucks or not (it does), Leo straight smoked every role. If you’re apprehensive about taking your girl to the movies and dropping $50 for uncomfortable seats and some stale popcorn, hold out for a DiCaprio pic. At least you know he’ll bring the goods. Plus your lady might be up for a little action later, I hear the females like the Leo.
Now most of DiCaprio’s streak has occurred under the direction of Martin Scorsese, although Spielberg and Nolan drafted his services as well. I was of the impression that Scorcese was washed up after Casino, but in DiCaprio Marty obviously found the outlet for his genius he’d lacked since he made about 70 pictures with Robert DeNiro. DiCaprio isn’t as much of an intimidating badass as DeNiro was, although his Billy Costigan in The Departed will fuck your shit up twice. But Leo brings an emotional depth and subtlety to his roles that is unmatched. Read more
So this series has taken us the better part of a month -- give or take 18 months -- to get completed, but listen to me now/believe me later when I say we will get it done.
If you're interested, you can browse each of the previous nine two-parters here. If you're not, just know that we draft the pieces of each category, fantasy-sports style, write a blurb about 'em (unless we don't feel like it), rank them (unless it's one of those rather lazy years), and post them. When we rank them, it's usually all three of us, but this time around, only two of us did, which is why you'll see the screwy numbering system. Nevertheless, part one is just past the jump. 24.5: Sissy Spacek
Cecil: I have no goddamned clue what the thought process was behind my selection of Sissy Spacek as one of the Top 25 Actors of the Last 25 Years. None. We did our draft early in the day, so I don’t think I was drunk, but you never know. I mean…really. Sissy Spacek.
I’m not trying to bag on ol’ Sissy unreasonably. She’s a fine actress who has appeared in a shitload of movies, some of which I have even seen. Like "Coal Miner’s Daughter," for instance. I’ve seen that. She really sells the whole “Loretta Lynn was the daughter of a coal miner” thing. She was also in a film called "‘night Mother," which was supposedly really good. Never saw that one. She was in "Carrie," of course, where she did crazy shit with her mind and got pig blood dumped on her and I only know this because my wife’s seen it and told me what happened. (By the by, only one of those movies was made in the last 25 years.)
Uhm…so…ur…well, she played a ruthless political player on "Big Love" a couple of seasons ago. That was pretty swell. And I once interviewed her daughter -— alongside Tom Hanks’ son, which was weird -— who seemed a perfectly fine young lady, if a bit shy. And she’s got red hair. And her name is Sissy. And she probably doesn’t belong on this list.
22. (two-way tie) Clint Eastwood
Cecil: Clint Eastwood is the fucking man. There. If you need to know more, go to the Netflix contraption and fetch yourself "The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly," "High Plains Drifter," "The Outlaw Josey Wales," "Unforgiven" and "The Enforcer." I don’t care that all but one (the best one, it should be said) of those movies are outside of our timeline; Clint Eastwood’s greatness transcends your prosaic concept of time.
Clint Eastwood was so badass in the ‘70s that he could cast his girlfriend, a woman with all of the charisma and set presence of a Big-Eyed Loris, in every one of his movies and no one would say boo to him about it. He starred with a chimpanzee in at least one film and yet went on to still be Clint Eastwood. He made a biopic about Charlie Parker and everyone was like, yeah, sure he did that, he is CLINT EASTWOOD.
Clint Eastwood would have been Chuck Norris before Chuck Norris was if Chuck Norris wasn’t such a fucking pussy. If Clint Eastwood had played Roy Hobbs in "The Natural," he would have caught that final ball with his bare hands, thrown it straight through the pitcher’s chest and then stared at his side until it stopped bleeding out of pure fear. Additionally, Clint Eastwood coined a phrase that, to this day, brings to mind the heady mid-‘80s far, far more than any “Where’s the beef?” bullshit. Fuck you, old lady. (Clint Eastwood probably did.)
So, when you queue up those Clint Eastwood films later, make sure you pay attention to the scene toward the end of Drifter, where his Man With No Name stands silhouetted against the burning building, whipping the villain to death while the townsfolk cower, and remember: that really happened. To the last guy that talked shit about Clint Eastwood.
Gary Oldman
Cecil: So I was looking up movies that Gary Oldman had starred in for this blurb I’m writing about how great an actor Gary Oldman is, and I realize that I haven’t seen most of them. The vast majority, in fact.
No, I never saw "Nil By Mouth," the man’s debut as a director/writer, even though it got fantastic reviews and is evidently just the kind of dark, drugged-up chunk of filmic sociopathy which I’d normally seek out. I never saw "JFK," never saw "Dracula," never even saw "The Fifth Element." I’ve seen "Basquiat," which he was evidently in, but the only thing I recall about it, aside from the titular character pouring syrup all over a table and not cleaning up after, was that David Bowie had a role. Old Gary (see what I did there) played Commissioner Gordon in "The Dark Knight," but all anyone remembers about that movie is Heath Ledger and Why so serious? For that matter, and this might surprise those who have met me, I’ve never even seen his turn as Sid Vicious in "Sid & Nancy." Yes, yes, I know. The barrel for me, stat.
But somewhere in the mid ‘90s, around the time of his turns as Drexl Spivey in "True Romance" (“I know I’m pretty, but I ain’t as pretty as no titty”) and as the silent, milk-chugging assassin in "The Professional," both movies I’d actually seen, I assigned him Great Actor Status. Maybe that was just because everyone told me he was one beforehand and I was all like, OK whatevs y’all, you’re the ones with the remote and the drugs…but I don’t think so. I think it was because he actually is one.
Take, for instance, his recurring role as Sirius Black in the "Harry Potter" movies, which after an initial burst of candyassed rainbow-fucking (thanks, Chris Columbus) have tracked the novels in their steadily increasing darkness. Oldman’s Black is one constant strained grimace, a man whose wrongful imprisonment and personal losses are etched permanently upon even his occasional, pained smile. If you can stand out in a collection of talent that includes Alan Rickman, Dame Maggie Smith and Ralph Fiennes without relentlessly chomping scenery, then you win a prize from the HoG, and that prize is this blurb. Why, it’s almost as if it were White Boy Day (it ain’t White Boy Day, is it?)
21. Will Ferrell
Old No. 7: It’s hard to make a great comedy, and some would argue that it’s much harder than making a great drama. As someone who has tried unsuccessfully to make people laugh my entire life, the idea of attempting a career in comedy is terrifying. If you can pull it off, you have my infinite respect.
I understand that Will Ferrell is not a “great” actor per se. But our standards for measuring greatness in acting talent are drawn almost exclusively from judging dramas. Oscars go to dramas and dramatic actors, while comic actors such as Ferrell are seen as goofballs. Tell me a joke, clown. But I felt that we needed representation on this list from someone who manufactures the funny, and to me Ferrell has had a better career than Eddie Murphy, Adam Sandler, Jim Carrey, Chris Rock, Chris Farley, Robin Williams, Ben Stiller, Mike Myers or Robin Williams.
"Anchorman" is quite simply a masterpiece, and Ron Burgundy is one of the finest characters ever created. "Old School" and "Talladega Nights" are pretty classic, and Ferrell did a ton of great work on "Saturday Night Live" and an endless string of funny cameos. Just like Sandler, he made his single requisite drama. Although "Punch Drunk Love" is a better movie, Ferrell himself turned in a finer performance in "Stranger Than Fiction." He’s made some shit, of course -- "Kicking And Screaming" is a God-awful movie. He can be abrasive and annoying. But all in all Will Ferrell gets it done.
18. (two-way tie) Glenn Close
Cecil: Glenn Close is a hell of an actress and seems like the kinda lady who’d enjoy slamming back a few whiskey sours. This is important: much like the President of the United States must always be an individual that every American man wants to drink a beer, go duck hunting and then Eiffel Tower a high-priced escort with, my definition of what makes a great actress is heavily reliant on the “would she go out to the bar with me?” factor.
So, for instance: Angelina Jolie is not a great actress. She’d order a bottled water, glance around for any unattended brown children and then, quite possibly, stab me. Cate Blanchett, not a great actress. She’d sip Earl Grey, regard me with a steely contempt, leave without saying a word and then return a few minutes later to stab me. Nicole Kidman, not a great actress. Straight to the stabbing. Plus she’s Australian so she’s probably carrying a motherfucker of a knife.
Now, Dame Judi Dench? Imperial pints of cider in the afternoon. Kathie Bates? Shots of bourbon in a biker bar followed by a spirited game of darts. Meryl Streep? A six-pack of wine coolers beneath the school bleachers, some tonsil hockey and then an unfortunate oh-no-you-just-puked-on-my-new-British Knights. You know, actresses.
Glenn Close fits that bill. Her screen work has been relatively low-key over the last few years -- her biggest star turns were in the mid-to-late ‘80s, in big box fare like "Dangerous Liaisons" and "Fatal Attraction" -- as she’s clearly chosen to do more voice-overs and television (and raunchy Navy videos) but she’s still a five-time Oscar nominee who has embodied some of the more memorable characters in recent film history and is unquestionably deserving of her place on this list. That, and I think she might wanna hoist one after the awards ceremony.
Tim Robbins
bankmeister: If there’s some continuity with my picks in this category, it’d be this: Of all my picks, the actors I’ve selected have really not played a role I’ve seen that I disliked. Tim Robbins is no exception. Boring tidbit about my cognitive capacities: I think it took most of 15 years before I no longer confused the last names and spellings of Tom Robbins the author, and the actor I’m about to discuss. Huh?, you might ask. But…they’re spelled the same. Yeah. I know. Took me 15 years to remember that.
We’ll start, though, with a film that severely messed with my mind—Wait a minute: Time. Out. Tim Robbins was Merlin in “Top Gun?” Well, screw me gently with a chainsaw. Never knew it. (Side note: He was also in “Howard the Duck,” “Bull Durham,” and “Jungle Fever,” if that “Top Gun thing caught you off guard.) (Side note to side note: Dude was also in “St. Elsewhere,” “Hardcastle & McCormick,” “The Love Boat,” “Hill Street Blues,” and “Moonlighting” on the TVs.) But back to my forever-scarred brain: “Jacob’s Ladder.” Side note to side note to side note: How in Christ’s heav’n’above did we leave Top Gun out of our HoG25 moviesinstallment? The horror…
I’m no film expert, but I’d guess that this might’ve been his first major leading role. And he crushed it. I won’t get into plot specifics because I might wind up like old boy from “Fire in the Sky” just thinking about it, but Jacob Singer was in Vietnam. The U.S. government had a chemist create some form of acid that would bring out immeasurably aggressive tendencies in soldiers. They took it in an experiment, and there were a few adverse effects. This film is about Singer feeling the aftermath of said of said effects, and it is wicked, frightening, and unnerving. I can’t imagine a more perfect actor to play Singer than Robbins.
We’ve mentioned “Jungle Fever,” and covered the “Hudsucker Proxy," but perhaps his most famous role came as one Andy Dufresne. Yes, we’ve all seen that one. It’s on the TVs eight times a week, and I’ll go on record as saying it’s one of those films I never turn the channel away from. And I freaking own a copy of it. Great story. Rock-solid delivery. There are numerous other Robbins roles to cover, but for the sake of brevity, we’ll note performances in “Arlington Road” and “High Fidelity,” and we’ll move on to “Mystic River,” where I think is a recent enough point that we -- at least us semi-regular movie-goers -- can all agree that we’ve seen it and remember it fairly well.
The trio of Sean Penn, Robbins, and Kevin Bacon in this film deliver a punch-packed dynamic I doubt any other three actors could replicate. Naturally, Robbins’ role is the confused character, the guy who cannot, in an effort to try and understand his circumstances, possibly exert another ounce of mental energy without collapse. His performance as Dave Boyle is spot-on, and, as it turns out, he won an Oscar for it.
17.5. Patrick Swayze
Old No. 7: In recognizing The Swayze on this list we are not building a monument to his talent. This is The Swayze we’re talking about here, not Brando or Olivier. Nor are we overvaluing him out of sentimentality due to his untimely death. If that were the case this list would be littered with the likes of Christopher Reeve and Michael Landon, and I didn’t wait in line to buy tickets for those dudes before they croaked. No, in honoring The Swayze we honor watchably bad cinema of the highest low caliber.
And when it comes to good-bad movies, it’s difficult to surpass "Road House" and "Point Break." This award could have just as easily gone to Keanu Reeves, except "Bill & Ted.." was actually awesome and some would say that "The Matrix" saga is as well. Plus, with Keanu it’s a little bit hard to tell if he understands just how awful he is or when he’s immersed in a completely craptastic movie.
I guess this is always the question, are people like The Swayze or those that help make his movies aware of their awfulness? I was listening to some radio program a while back, I’d give credit if I remembered to whom to give it. The hosts discussed Nicolas Cage in general and "Con Air" in specific, wondering if Cage and the filmmakers are in on the joke. If you haven’t seen it, "Con Air" is stupendously, spectacularly, literally laughably bad, and the consensus was that, yes, the guys that made it know it.
I don’t know if The Swayze acted in "Road House" with the knowledge that it would become a classic for all the wrong reasons. If you held a gun to my head, I’d say that he was sincere, that he honestly tried to make Dalton the most bad-ass bouncer in Hollywood history, and I think that’s totally awesome.
17. (two-way tie) George Clooney
Old No. 7: I was derisively mocked by my colleagues for selecting Clooney (and later Brad Pitt) after DiCaprio. These guys, obviously, are widely seen as hunks first and seriously talented actors second. But if you’ll allow me to craft my spirited defense of the thespian skill of one George Clooney, I’ll deliver you both a spot-on analysis of his worth and a reason to believe Cecil and Bank don’t know beans about the film game.
Clooney, you see, is a throwback to another age in cinema. A time when Cary Grant, Clark Gable and John Fucking Wayne took no shit and dictated to the world what an American man was. Smoking, banging broads and littering were required, and no killjoy wet blanket fun police were around to send everyone home.
What’s wrong with an old-fashioned leading man? A guy’s guy? I say nothing. And Clooney plays that part as well as anyone. But I don’t think this highly of him simply because he can function as Daniel Ocean in a tuxedo and swill Scotch. Uh, I can do that, and at weddings across America I have. No, Clooney sold me on his actual chops in a pair of Coen Brothers’ pics, "Oh brother Where Art Thou?" and "Intolerable Cruelty." In these, Clooney showed he can do musical and slapstick comedy, genres outside the range of many actors on our list. He’s not just a pretty face, you cynical jerks.
Samuel L. Jackson
bankmeister: Lemme just say that it’s probably a shame that I was able to nab Samuel Leroy with the 11th pick in the 12th round of this HoG25 buffoonery. My colleagues are superior wordsmiths, and would’ve assuredly done the man better justice. Having said that is Ess Elle Jay really that elite of an actor, or has he simply been chosen for some remarkable roles, and really delivered on them? We’ve talked about Harvey Keitel’s role in “Pulp Fiction,” and it would be a sin to omit a sermon of equal praise for Jackson’s stunning part in the film, but we can’t spend too much time on one piece, so we’ll actually leave Jules out of this write-up. He played Carl Lee Haley in “A Time to Kill,” which was a good movie, even if we were made to suffer through Matthew McConaughey and Sandra Bullock. Jackson’s role was key to the storyline, but since he spent the bulk of it in the can, there’s not a ton we can say about it.
I’ve also discussed episodes I, II, and III of the "Star Wars" sextet, and it would be silly to rehash those films, even though I thought it cool of Jackson to take interest in a series whose original three parts predated his prime. Also, it sucks that he had to be another black guy in another film that gets killed off, but let’s not pick nits. I didn’t see “Shaft,” but I know it had a small cult following, so I can assume his Pulp Fictionesque mentality was similar, only heavier on the pimp juice. “Kill Bill Volume II” featured Jackson in a miniscule role, and then there was “Coach Carter,” which I’ll refrain from commenting on.
“Snakes on a Plane” was a God-damn abortion. Period. Like Keitel, he had an off-screen role in “Inglorious Basterds,” and beyond that, I didn’t see “Die Hard: With a Vengeance” or “Unbreakable.” I will give him props for “True Romance,” “Menace II Society,” “Juice,” “Do the Right Thing,” and of course, “Goodfellas,” but none of those roles were, by any means, massive. Hell, I’ll even give him some for “Coming to America.”
What remains, though, is either a question or a statement. If it’s the latter, it’s this: Someone more qualified on Jackson’s big-screen career should’ve written this, and if it’s the former, then: Does Samuel L. Jackson belong in this category?
15.5. Steve Buscemi
Cecil: Mere words aren’t enough to communicate the man-love I have for Mr. Steve Buscemi, which blows for me because I don’t have another way to get this information across to you. Semaphore flags or hand signals might work, I guess, but I’m not on a ship and you’re still tied to the sofa. So, anyway.
Giving Steve Buscemi the credit that Steve Buscemi deserves should be the business of the United States Government, not all this foreign entanglement bric-a-brac with the Libya and the Wikileaks and the Godless Japanese. We should be praying to Steve Buscemi’s image five times daily, orienting ourselves toward "Fargo" at each. Forget the fact that he’s really only a featured performer in a handful of films, that’s a handful we should be celebrating: "Reservoir Dogs," "Fargo" (see what I did a sentence earlier? Eh?), "The Big Lebowski." Brilliant cameos too numerous to count. So much voice work that it’s easy to forget that syrupy kid-animation you’re dozing off to is being voiced by Mr. Pink. Several seasons of "The Sopranos," currently Nucky Thompson on Scorsese’s excellent "Boardwalk Empire," even a spot on "The Equalizer" in 1987. Fuck, I loved that show.
Steve Buscemi, for all of the instant physical picture the name paints, with the teeth and the sallow and the murderous smile, doesn’t get his just desserts as an actor. This list is heavy on pretty people with long strings of box office smashes on their resumes: let’s make room for an odd-looking dude who steals every film he appears in.
14.5. Brad Pitt
Old No. 7: Brad Pitt I've liked most of the movies that Brad Pitt has made, particularly what he's done with David Fincher. Fincher's right up there among the greatest directors working right now, and for a while he and Pitt collaborated closely, like Martin Scorcese did with Robert DeNiro and then Leonardo DiCaprio. Benjamin Button was no great shakes, but "Se7en" and particularly "Fight Club" were excellent. I don't get too deep into what the most "important" movie of any particular generation might be, but in my movie-watching life I can think of three contenders: "Fight Club," "The Social Network" (both by Fincher) and Quentin Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction."
Pitt did his turn with Tarantino too, of course, in "Inglorious Basterds." Like most all of Pitt's films, it's pretty funny, pretty interesting, and pretty cool. Pitt's not the funniest comic actor, but he's not bad. He's not the most bad ass villain or most heroic good guy either, but he's competent and gives enough weight to each performance to make you feel like you're not wasting time watching it.
14. Harrison Ford
bankmeister: Drafting Harrison Ford for this installment was tough because, if you stick with the 25-year window, you’re not allowed to include episodes four, five, and six of “Star Wars.” Nor are you allowed to include “Raiders of the Lost Ark.” These are serious handicaps.” Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom” was not a good movie. I mean, we all loved Short Round, and we were all creeped out by the heart-removal scene, but it was pretty bad. I’m also a bit handicapped because I haven’t seen a fair amount of his films, but the ones I have are good enough to warrant placement in this group.
Let’s start with “The Mosquito Coast.” A bit of a different role for Ford in some senses in that it did not receive the accolades that many of Ford’s projects did, it was called boring by some, and at the same time, it rode high on emotion, which will sell the tickets to the heavy-hearted. “Regarding Henry.” Great flic. A little sappy, and maybe slow in parts, but who better an actor would you nab to portray a selfish, semi-egomaniacal doctor who gets shot, and must relearn to live his life in, basically, its entirety. Lots of good life lessons, the catchphrase “gotta get me some o’ that,” and really, just a feel-good story, for which I will always be first in the hook-the-sap line.
“Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade” restored the Jones trilogy to the level it deserved with the initial installment, and Ford, along with co-star Sean Connery, was nothing shy of fantastic in it. Ford delivered compelling roles in both “Presumed Innocent” and “What Lies Beneath,” and some would argue his bits in the Tom Clancy novels-turned-films were above-average, but it is the role of Dr. Richard Kimble that warrants ultimate inclusion for Ford on this list. Yes, “The Fugitive.” One of the greatest films of the last quarter century. If you haven’t seen it a solid half-dozen times, you’re doing yourself a disservice.
13. (two-way tie) John Cusack
Cecil: John Cusack didn’t start out as a great actor, he started out as a nerd in John Hughes movies and as the star of Savage Steve Holland vehicles ("One Crazy Summer," "Better Off Dead") that, while idealized by tousle-headed geeks such as myself, were hardly cinematic triumphs. Sure, his role as Hoops McCann in "Summer" was poignant and reminiscent of the best of Olivier, but Bobcat Goldthwaite was in that movie. Sir Laurence never had to work with Bobcat Goldthwaite.
The genius of Cusack’s career has been that he didn’t just grow out of those movies, he grew upward -- he’s notorious for not taking big money crap roles (uh, you leave "Con Air" and "2012" out of this) over the smaller, artier stuff, and his personal canon reflects that: "The Grifters," "Midnight in the Garden of Good & Evil," "Being John Malkovich," "High Fidelity." He started honing that outsider/everyman persona as early as 1989’s "Say Anything" --a movie that will still drop the panties of most any straight woman in her mid-to-late ‘30s -- and by the time of "Fidelity" he could teach a master class on it. More than any other actor on this list, with the exception of DeNiro, Cusack’s work evokes a certain type.
Even when his movies are bad -- and lately, they have been -- John Cusack is almost always the best thing in them.
Meryl Streep
Old No. 7: I'm not trying to make some sort of social statement by selecting Meryl Streep on a list that's dominated by dudes. She's no Jackie Robinson, just a damn fine actor. While she's taken some goofy roles in a few chick flics, all in all she just flat out kicks ass in dramas with immaculate preparation, intense manipulation of dialogue, and an underrated knack for comedic timing.
Meryl Streep has been nominated for 16 Academy Awards in the last 22 years, which is kind of incomprehensible. Her finest role was probably in "Sophie's Choice," but she's fantastic in her more recent efforts: "Julie & Julia," "Doubt" and "The Devil Wears Prada." And with that, I'm pretty sure I qualify as a full-fledged homosexual.
There's our first installment. Next up: The top ten. I mean, 11. Read more
Time now, boys and girls, to examine the top 10 films of the last 25 years. If you made it through installment one if this piece, then you deserve a Coke and a smile. And if you take that honor, and chug through today's, well, you deserve some popcorn, too. They're there, waitin' for you, after the jump. 10. Anchorman
It seems silly to write about the impact or deep sociological meaning of a goofy movie filled with poop and boner jokes. So I’ll instead wonder why funny people have such a short shelf life.
Richard Pryor, George Carlin and Bill Cosby were the funniest people alive when I was a little kid, but they all became less funny the older I got. These guys started in stand-up but matriculated to film and TV careers, and although Pryor had a few funny movie roles and Bill Cosby made a seminal sitcom, they petered out when it came to making people laugh.
Eddie Murphy then became the funniest guy in the world, and he actually made a few great movies, but then he had kids and started filming crappy family movies (same thing happened to Ice Cube). Jerry Seinfeld, Chris Rock, Dave Chappelle, all these guys were uproarious for a few years but faded. Please be clear that I’m talking about their work as actors, not stand-up comics. Totally different sports.
Dane Cook, as we’ve all agreed,
was never funny or good at anything.
Which brings us to Adam Sandler, who was the king of movie comedies in the 90s, and Will Ferrell, who’s taken the title in this decade. Both of these guys killed it for a few years and then sucked. Sucked hard. We all kept going to their shitty movies, hoping they’d rekindle a little Billy Madison or Ron Burgundy for us, but no, instead we paid nine dollars to see some figure-skating abortion. Fuck that.
The funniest movie I’ve seen since Anchorman was The Hangover, which doesn’t really solve our dilemma. It was directed by Todd Phillips, who also made Starsky & Hutch and School For Scoundrels -— neither of those were very good. Phillips did make Old School, which was great, but he seems spotty. The Hangover had a pretty ragged cast, most notably Andy from The Office and Zach Galifianikis, who’s gut-bustingly funny but will not become the next Will Ferrell.
Judd Apatow has had a hand in a nice little run of funny movies, but I think he’s done.
Basically, we’re all waiting for a comedy Jesus to be born unto us and lead us to the promised land of laffs. I just hope he gets here soon, before I’m bored one night and I’m forced to rent "Land Of The Lost."
9. The Hudsucker Proxy
Cecil: "The Hudsucker Proxy" is probably not the “best” Coen brothers movie -— that title would likely be awarded to "Barton Fink," maybe, or "Blood Simple" or "Fargo" (as much as I love "O Brother, Where Art Thou?," it doesn’t make their top 3). But it’s indisputably my favorite. It is, like so much of their work, a period piece; and, like so much of their work, the period in question (’50s Wall Street) has been stylized and idealized and fantasized so thoroughly that it bears only a tangential connection to reality.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course, because the real world of mid-20th century corporate America was a pile of depressing turd biscuits, and Proxy is pure oddball whimsy. It features one of Paul Newman’s most understated roles, that of the malevolent CEO manipulating Tim Robbins’ starry-eyed rube, and Jennifer Jason Leigh is just criminally hot as the iconic tough-talking reporter with a heart of gold. The mail room scene is a classic -- “if you forget your number, THEY DOCK YA!” —and Coen veteran Steve Buscemi makes a scene-stealing cameo as a beatnik bartender (that’s actually how’s he’s credited). There’s also a fight between good and evil janitors. This is one of the rare films that I will watch start to finish any time I see it on cable -— and unlike, say, "The Thing," it’s almost never cut to shreds.
Possibly because it was, you know, for kids.
8. The Usual Suspects
Cecil: Is it possible to do this film justice in such a short space? Doubtful. The perfect rug-pulled-out-from-under-you¬-at-the-final-act thriller, larded with fine performances by Chazz Palminteri, Gabriel Byrne and especially Kevin Spacey, was easily the equal of any such movie in my memory.
Like Keyser Soze, the movie’s famous villain, the script is pure genius because it successfully pulls off a daylight bit of sleight-of-hand: you don’t see the cards until the final seconds, when everything snaps into place so perfectly that you feel practically pained you didn’t see it coming. Well, maybe you did, but I sure didn’t. Ninety percent of the thing is a red herring, and that’s tough to pull off over the course of a full-length feature.
The dialogue is also memorable. “How do you shoot the devil in the back? What if you miss?” “He was dead just long enough for the murder rap to blow over. And then he had lunch.” And, of course, “Keaton always said, "’I don't believe in God, but I'm afraid of him.’ Well, I believe in God, and the only thing that scares me is Keyser Soze.” Spacey’s rambling turn as the supposed weakling Roger “Verbal” Kint was the gig that put him on the map and brought him the later Oscar-bait, but he was never better in any of those movies than he was here. M. Night Shymalan looks at this movie, wipes away a tear and wonders why he sucks so badly.
Old No. 7: Everyone loves a movie that has a shocking, you-never-saw-it-coming twist, but I think it’s a real sign of quality when you watch the movie again, you know the twist is there, and you still love it. I also think the 250-word minimum we’ve created for these entries is a kind of fucked with movies —-should I review a movie like "The Usual Suspects," which everyone has seen? Should I talk about how it made me feel, or the point I was at when I first saw it, who I was dating, what my diet consisted of? I think that’s all kind of pointless. I can rattle on about a quarterback or a second baseman or an incompetent coach or broadcaster all day. Writing about movies is tough, especially 15-year-old ones. Which is why I work for a blog whose rough focus is the rivalry between two NFL teams, not costume design.
Here’s a fun fact: the key grip and best boy are part of a hierarchy of technicians who work on movie lighting. That’s all I got.
7. Fight Club
Old No. 7: The House of Georges is no place for weepy introspection or in-depth study of societal norms. We publish stolen photographs of scantily clad whores and fake conversations with Mike Cox. "Fight Club" is important, however, on a level that goes beyond simply being an enjoyable movie. It speaks to what it means to be a man.
Face it, we’ve turned into a nation of pussies. We are more concerned with finding our favorite flavor of coffee drink than we are with knowing how to survive in the woods. We don’t change our own oil, and we hire foreigners to fix and build things that men should fix and build themselves.
It would behoove us all to get our ass kicked once in a while, to experience something not through an electronic device but through blood and gristle and missing teeth. I’m not saying we should be violent just for the sake of being violent but, actually that’s exactly what I’m saying. Men are different from women. We are the hunters, and while there’s nothing wrong with picking up some cooking skills, helping around the house and being polite we should remember our caveman roots.
This innate Cro-Magnon thuggery is a big reason we watch sports —- not the winning and losing so much as the game within the game. We are not allowed to plunk our opponents with 95 mph fastballs, but we love it when our pitchers do. We can’t decapitate receivers coming over the middle, bury another driver into the wall or drop the gloves at center ice in real life, so we ask our athletes to do it for us, to satisfy our bloodlust.
Basically what I’m saying is that Phil Sims is a giant pussy.
Bankmeister: No place for weepy introspection or in-depth study of societal norms? Christ. My TPS-report memos are always offline.
6. No Country For Old Men
Old No. 7: I think the hardest thing about making a movie is ending it. How many times have you been watching something good that just derails at the conclusion? It’s really difficult—you have two hours to introduce characters and a plot line, get us the viewers to care about the little imaginary world you’ve created, and then wrap it all up in a tidy fashion. Most movies can’t do this.
I’ve heard many opinions about the ending of No Country, either people hated its abrupt and mysterious finality or loved its method of feeding the viewer’s imagination. Place me squarely in the second camp.
It’s painful how brilliant this movie is—the brutality of its characters and West Texas landscape just rips your guts out. There is not a single note of music, no soundtrack or score, a huge risk taken by the Coens but a perfect background to a nearly perfect movie.
Bankmeister: I've seen the best movie ever about 600 times. Then the ending ruined it and it became the worst. That feeling always stays with me, too. But not, here. A few days after seeing it, I got it. That's the brilliance of Cormac McCarthy's writing. I wasn't bummed that it ended abruptly or mysteriously, but I wanted that fucker to have his heart ripped out Temple-of-Doom style. That he survives while good is defeated puts a bowtie on the story's motif: a morally barren world.
5. Silence of the Lambs
Old No. 7: I don’t like horror movies. It’s not that they’re too scary, just that they’re usually not very good. I thought the first couple "Saw"s were OK, and I love the original "Texas Chainsaw Massacre," but I never understood what folks got out of all the "Halloween"s or "Friday The 13th"s or what not.
That being said, "Silence Of The Lambs" is the best horror movie ever made. We celebrate serial killers too much in this country, romanticizing every deranged idiot and turning him into Hannibal Lecter. Mass murderers are typically not brilliant and engaging, they’re sick, fucked-up losers. But this movie gives you the good kind of nightmares.
Anthony Hopkins and Jodie Foster both have reputations as great actors, mostly on the strength of this movie. But look at their careers, they’re both pretty pedestrian. Hopkins is a clumsy old curmudgeon, and Foster simply can’t act. She’s horrible. But just like Dennis Rodman was effective when he played with Jordan, Pippen and Phil Jackson, Hopkins and Foster shine here under the direction of Jonathan Demme.
Bankmeister: a) In order to deal with the horribleness of Jodie Foster, I expected a solid four minutes of a naked her getting plowed. Didn’t happen. Movie blew. b) Scottie Pippen is the NBA’s Phil Simms, a giant, overrated pussy.
4. Do the Right Thing
Cecil: Spike Lee has disappointed me plenty. I went through a period a few years back where, if I saw he had a new movie in the movie-houses, I’d make it a destination. And what did it get me? Fucking “Summer of Sam” and “He Got Game,” which remains one of the most cringe-inducing films I’ve ever seen. But I kept on doing it, because I kept on thinking that one of these days, he’d make a movie that was as powerful as "Do the Right Thing."
It’s a simple concept, as so many great movies are. One hot summer day in the ghetto, everyone is feeling that summer irritability, one innocuous comment -— “hey Sal, how come ain’t no brothers on your wall?” -— sets off a tornado of recrimination, racism and violence. The characters aren’t exactly deep as much as they’re symbolic, but in the context of the movie it makes perfect sense: Da Mayor, identifying a broken-down, beaten-down generation that still has its pride; Buggin’ Out, representing a nascent political consciousness that his peers don’t really want to embrace; Radio Raheem, rocking the PE on the boombox and not saying much until it’s time to break some fools, and then, tragically, getting broken himself.
It’s as powerful a cinematic discussion of race as has been made. Plus, it features Rosie Perez’s boobs.
3. Reservoir Dogs
Cecil: To my mind, this movie is the purest distillation of Tarantino’s style: his endless filmic homages and his T.S. Eliot -- like footnoting of influences hadn’t grown so blatant as they would be in "Kill Bill 1" & "2" (both of which should have come with a reference book), or even "Pulp Fiction." Not that "Dogs" wasn’t similarly shaped by the Asian and European gangster reels which form artistic backbone of the man’s oeuvre -— or Rashomon, which gives the whole thing its structure -- it just doesn’t telegraph those influences—which makes for a taut, throat-punch of a movie.
Tim Roth, who would become one of QT’s regulars in the way that Charles Durning has for the Coen brothers or Eugene Levy has for Christopher Guest, is at his twitchy best as the injured undercover cop whom Harvey Keitel’s character is trying desperately to save, and Michael Madsen’s empty-eyed Mr. White stands with the most memorable thugs in the filmdom —- go ahead and watch the de-earing of the cop and try to not flinch, I still can’t, even after all these years. This was also the movie that introduced the world to Steve Buscemi, and for that alone it deserves a place on the mantel. “Why do I have to be Mr. Pink?”
Tarantino actually let his actors control this film rather than directing it to death; he’d do well to remember how well it worked for him the first time."
2. Pulp Fiction
Bankmeister: “Pulp Fiction” changed everything. It took the peculiarities of “Reservoir Dogs,” stretched the impossible into believable, and upped the human being requirement of intelligent badassness. While not quite as quotable as “Friday,” or brutal as “Dogs,” it was hipper, funner, inclusive of sex appeal, and the outright bizarre. Mention must be made of the use of time. Before “Pulp,” directors and the like had been toying with the manipulation of it for about a few years. Tarantino’s uppance of the par, however, was executed with a shrewdness preceded by none. The same should be said about dialogue. The conversations that occur are so loosely detached from the clearly attached pieces of action and plot, that an interesting level of absurdity mixed with sheer genius, an idea never before done and done so well. To talk of Royales with Cheese and foot massages for other men’s wives while en route to shoot up some white boys is, well, it’s insane, in an awesome way.
One must give John Travolta and Uma Thurman their due for delivering their roles with such craft, but let’s face it: This film ain’t anything more than another day at the office without Samuel L. Jackson, the one with the wallet “that says Bad Motherfucker.” His protection of the case in the diner robbery scene -– “We still cool Yolanda?” –- his repeated asking –- “Say what again!” of the aforementioned white boys: “What does Marcellus Wallace look like?” his wardrobe, his stunning Jheri curl, and his simply complex presence commanded every audience member’s respect and attention in a fresher, newer way that Hollywood had never known.
The piece is an outright gem from to finish. Every last tidbit was entertaining, thrilling, funny –- “Prank caller, prank caller!” –- and suspenseful. I can scarcely imagine a film in the last 25 years that has demanded, and rightfully so, the attention it got, the instant-classic status it deserved, especially in an age where far too many flicks are being dubbed as classics when so very few actually are. “Pulp Fiction” is an epic display of what an incredible film-making mind should consider and produce. The Iron Triangle has spoken, and if you are not in agreeance, we will hasten to wake up the gimp, especially for you and your incorrect opines.
1. Goodfellas
Old No. 7: There’s no doubt that the Mafia genre has been the most consistently compelling of my lifetime. The first two "Godfather"s and "Scarface" are true classics that were made before our 25-year window. The Sopranos was an epic that we’ll hit when we get to our Top 25 television shows. And although there have been some shitty Mob movies, it’s pretty remarkable how good most have been -— think "Donnie Brasco," "A Bronx Tale," "The Departed," "Road To Perdition," "The Untouchables," "Casino," "Carlito’s Way" and "Miller’s Crossing." Beyond that you can add movies that, like "Scarface," aren’t strictly based on La Cosa Nostra but still have the same themes of lawlessness and kickassery, like "Heat," "The Dark Knight" and all of Tarantino’s stuff.
Why is this format such a winner? I think it’s simple, guys relate to characters that do what they want. They go wherever they want, they fuck whomever they want, and if someone crosses them they either rough ‘em up or take ‘em out. Who among us hasn’t felt like whacking someone who pisses us off?
When I was younger it always used to bother me that the bad guys never won —- in almost every instance they were either killed or incarcerated. And that was fucking weak, because I pull for the bad guys. I hated seeing Henry Hill, Ray Liotta’s character, in witness protection at the end:
And that's the hardest part. Today everything is different; there's no action... have to wait around like everyone else. Can't even get decent food - right after I got here, I ordered some spaghetti with marinara sauce, and I got egg noodles and ketchup. I'm an average nobody... get to live the rest of my life like a schnook.
A schnook! That’s horrible! Henry Hill was a titan, and you’ve reduced him to schnookhood!
I think it’s a sign you’ve grown up a little when you watch a movie like "Goodfellas" and instead of being bummed when the gangsters go down, you’re relieved for the sake of society. Either that, or you’ve been bridled and broken by the oppressive forces of fatherhood, marriage and commerce.
And there you have it, folks. The 25. We hope no feelings were hurt in the consumption of this novella, and in case you're curious, there is an honorable mention list:
"Ferris Bueller's Day Off" "Shawshank Redemption" "Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?" "Saving Private Ryan" "Clerks" "Slumdog Millionaire" "Braveheart" the "Bourne" trilogy "Good Will Hunting" "Thank You for Smoking" "The Green Mile" "Fargo, "and "A Bronx Tale"
You, of course, precious reader, are required (and admired) to tell us your thoughts, a half-scroll below. Read more
Well, we're back. It's time to kick off a new week, and deliver a new installment of the newest House of Georges feature, The HoG25. Each week, we're devouring a topic wherein we select, rank, and defend the top 25 (fill in the blank) over the last 25 years. Last week we kicked things off with the debut installment: quarterbacks. If you haven't checked it out, please do so, and of course tell us how great, or dumb, you thought it was.
We broke up our quarterback piece into two segments, so as to split the reading time. We're doing that for movies as well, but you'll need a small chunk to get through, if, you know, reading is your bag, baby. So, hop past the world-renowned leap, and make sure your popcorn's buttered. It's showtime. 25. Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith
Bankmeister: I cannot think of a more important piece of cinema in my lifetime than the two "Star Wars" trilogies, or the sextuple, if you will, as a whole. That might very well make me a nerd, but color me non-chalant. “Star Wars: Epidode IV – A New Hope,” “Superman,” “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” “Time Bandits,” and “E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial” were the first five movies I ever saw in the theater. “Star Wars”, for me, blew them all away. Other childhood hits include “The Neverending Story,” “The Karate Kid,” “Rocky IV,” “Back to the Future,” “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.” None of those, for my green Benjamins, hold a candle to “Star Wars,” “The Empire Strikes Back,” or “Return of the Jedi.” The trilogy, for all intents and purposes, enveloped me. It was a world unthunk, undreamt, and unimagined, one I wanted to see, hear, and smell for myself, and it is, to this day, the embodiment of the perfect good-and-evil dichotomy.
It was about hope, hope that the benevolent can triumph in this universe, that there will be costly sacrifices, horror-invoking truths, and a great, great deal of pain. And it communicated these motifs with the flashiest, most awe-inspiring sensory invocations ever created: traveling at light speed, dueling with lightsabers, owning droids, and knowing dozens and dozens of different types of creatures. And let’s not forget family, love, and politics.
So, “A New Hope” (1979) captivated me. Stopped my world’s orbit. Twisted my way of processing life. When “Empire” (1980) came out, it instilled fear in me. Fear and companionship, and the might of the strong, the ways of the wise. “Jedi” (1983) left me wondering. How could I have feared and hated Darth Vader after he saved his son’s life and told him “You were right about me. Tell your sister... you were right,” as his dying words. I wondered about the emergence of new threats and what the lack of Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi might mean to it all. I wondered if I was okay with Ewoks. And most of all, I wondered – having heard rumors in between “New Hope” and “Jedi” about a supposedly six other “Star Wars” installments: What do you mean those were the middle three parts? That just didn’t make sense.
Ultimately, there were only three: “The Phantom Menace” (1999), “Attack of the Clones” (2002), and “Sith” (2005). “Sith,” technically installment three, is the bridge, the knot, the glue to the sextuple. In “Menace” we meet Anakin Skywalker, a young Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon, under whom Kenobi apprenticed. We also meet Padme, who would later give birth to Luke and Leia. We also meet a slew of other characters, including Jar Jar Binks, whose voice single-handedly ruined the second trilogy for many. In “Clones,” light is shed on the massiveness of the plots of the dark side. Suspicions over the intentions of Senator Palpatine arise, and Anakin and Padme wed, a ceremony forbidden for a Padawan (Jedi knight in-training) learner. Plus, Yoda in a light saber battle.
Finally, we get the great melding of it all in “Sith.” A full 26 years after “Hope” was released, the “Star Wars” audience sees Palpatine become the emperor (who, though Vader’s master in “Jedi,” is destroyed by Vader himself) and turn Anakin against the Jedi Council. Skywalker, having become a knight under the tutelage of Kenobi, is manipulated into a mentoring under Palpatine, and is titled Darth Vader. It is not until the end – the original light saber dual between Vader and Kenobi – that Kenobi nearly destroys his apprentice, only to be saved by Sith Lord Darth Sidious/Palpatine/the emperor, and Skywalker is transformed into the Vader the world knew in the original trilogy. Before his near-destruction, though, Vader practically kills Padme, leaving her to die after giving birth to Luke and Leia. The remaining Jedi go into hiding and the twins are separated for safe keeping. In the middle of it all are the infamous plans for the construction of the Death Star, which bounce around and wind up in safe hands, but not before a copy of them is made by the Rebel Alliance. It is the existence of this copy with which “Hope” opens up; Princess Leia successfully stashes them inside R2-D2, and sends him and pal droid C-3PO in an escape pod to Tattooine just before Vader and his stormtroopers board the ship in search of the copy.
Much changes in a span of two and-a-half centuries. Hollywood itself likely went through 10 dozen changes. Old actors grow old. Some die. New actors surface. Technology advances. Harrison Fords are substituted for Samuel L. Jacksons. But, in the evolution of time, a great idea is still a great idea. In this case, the word “great” is emphasized, never substituted for pretty good, or not bad. The second trilogy was incredible, impossible to directly compare with its predecessor, but amazing for its detail, development, fruition, and cinematic impact. And the success with which George Lucas left nearly zero loose ends warrants, at the very least, a spot here.
24. The Truman Show
Bankmeister: I’ve never claimed to follow the norm of thinking when it comes to film. “The Truman Show,” perhaps, best embodies such a philosophy. Jim Carrey’s existence in the world of drama was never meant to be compared to John Wayne, Marlon Brando, or even Tom Hanks. The nature of the films he has made tell you that. But every once in a while, the most unexpected of seeds is germinated, the perfect amount of sunlight and water sneak in, and a near-masterpiece blossoms. This movie is one of those, and it makes this list for two reasons: 1) The possibility behind the idea is frighteningly possible, plausibly real, and 2) Carrey steps out of his typecast and hits a home run. I’m as far from an Academy expert as you could find, but my sister is pretty close. She says that the Academies are, and I’m paraphrasing here, not so much what matters anymore, but rather, the Golden Globes do.
Ed Harris got a lot of nominees and recognition for his role in this film and he deserved it, but so did Carrey, and Carrey won the 1999 Golden Globe for best actor, and, well, Harris took the supporting actor award in the Globes as well, Those awards, she might say, are the ones that the actors in Hollywood are concerned with, the ones they consider the real deal.
I’m not gonna lie. I’m a freaking faucet when it comes to movies, the hydrant the fire department opens on hot summer days so kids can play in it. Some bad actor in some movie I’m watching to make the wife happy skins their knee and I’m reaching for the Puffs. No kiddin’. But go back to the concept of this film. The notion that one’s entire life, especially now, 10 years after it came out, could be all for entertainment purposes, for the next reality show, for advertising and ratings, is synonymous with original, and accolades go to writer Andrew Niccol and director Peter Weir (“The Mosquito Coast,” “Dead Poets Society,” “Fearless”) for their incredible work in making this film the experience that it was. Harris’ role is astonishing, and the job the supporting cast – as the viewing audience – does to convey their devotion to the “Show” really sells it. And the soundtrack. Soundtracks, to some, go largely unnoticed, but they tie very much into the emotion of particular pieces of film, and the score in this one is very evident. Christof, Harris’ character, tells us directly: "...Easy On the Fog...Stand-By, Crane Cam…Crane Cam...And wide, Curb-Cam Eight…Button Cam Three...Fade Up Music..." Commence crying. And the undying faith of the beautiful Natascha McElhone who plays Sylvia. Without uttering a line, her beauty, both physically, and dramatically, seal this incredible deal. If you haven’t seen it, I gotta ask: “How’s it going to end?”
23. Planes, Trains, & Automobiles
Cecil: I would like to take this opportunity to discuss less the movie itself than John Hughes’ career as a whole.
And that’s no stab at P/T/A. I drafted the sucker, I’ll defend it -- it’s an excellent buddy movie starring two of the best comic actors of the last 50 years, John Candy (RIP) and Steve Martin. It’s perfectly paced, humane and loaded with cinematic love for the Midwest . But it is by no means Hughes’ best.
What is, though? I mean, Hughes was such a huge part of moviemaking in the ‘80s that he seemingly had a hand in everything. He even wrote “National Lampoon’s Vacation,” for God’s sake. How do you pick just one? “Mr. Mom”? “The Breakfast Club”? “Sixteen Candles” was a superb movie, even though it suffered from the same disease as most of his other works, an incurable addiction to the easy story -- how many times in a Hughes movie did the rich kid/jock not get the girl? -- but that doesn’t win. Neither does “Pretty in Pink”; even though the sight of a teenage Molly Ringwald still gives me a funny feeling in the downstairs region, both of those films were…how do I say this…meant for the Summer’s Eve crowd.
Ah, but “Weird Science”? Now you’re talking. Pure fucking candy for the teen boy, what with the Kelly LeBrock and the gunfire and the I-can’t-believe-you-dropped-wolfbait-with-chicks-in-the-house. But even upon writing that, I remind myself of “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” which I thought as a young man to be a filmmaking achievement on par with the best of Welles. I can’t decide between the two, but I’d probably have to give the edge to Ferris for two reasons: Jeffrey Jones’ principal and Ferris’ girlfriend. YEeeeeow.
Bankmeister: I thought this movie was magical when it came out. Original story line. Fantastic, sore-gut laughs from Candy, and yes, the buddy factor.
22: Brazil
Cecil: “Brazil” is a tough one, because so few people have really seen it, or at least seen the “real” version, the one with the ending that Terry Gilliam wanted that was deemed too dark and depressing. But rest assured, it belongs on this list, and not just because we needed to have a movie representing Gilliam (although we did).
The story, basically, is the tale of a man named Sam caught in the machinery of a future society controlled by an excessively bureaucratic, yet bumbling and incompetent government, a government unconcerned with the use of torture and coercion to keep its secrets and “order” (sound at all familiar?) It’s a comedy -- a super dark one, but, still, a comedy. Robert De Niro is a “terrorist” in the film, by which I mean he is a renegade air conditioning specialist who has a posse of fellow underground HVAC men. Occasionally, the comedy veers into an outright dreamscape. And by occasionally, I mean “most of the second half of the movie.”
It’s not exactly a lighthearted romp. The film ends with the lead character being tortured into madness -- there’s no win for good v. evil, the oppressors successfully oppress. Maybe that’s why it was a complete flop in America , circa 1985; we weren’t exactly dialed into movies that required a ton of thought. We were diggin’ on “Red Dawn.” But I shed no tears for Gilliam—he had his moments in the commercial sun later on, and Brazil has become something of a cult film par excellence. And we dig on excellence.
21: Repo Man
Cecil: The genius of “Repo Man” is not in its plot, which is completely ridiculous -- a rogue scientist, driving a Chevy Nova around Los Angeles with alien corpses in the trunk, attempts to elude a cadre of government agents and dimwitted punks—but in the details, the throwaway lines, and, yes, the performances.
You might think that Emilio Estevez sucks, and you’d be right about that, but in “Repo Man” he found the role of his career playing the hardheaded Otto, and his on-screen partnership with Harry Dean Stanton was dynamite. Stanton is one of Hollywood ’s great forgotten men, and he gets some of the best lines: “I never met a ‘Repo Man’ didn’t do a lot of speed,” being one of my favorites. But director Alex Cox spread the verbal wealth; “Repo Man” is the film world’s most quotable movie not named “Friday.”
“You like music? You gonna love these guys. I used to party with ‘em, back in the day. Asked me to be their manager. I call ‘em, bullshit on that.” – Lite, the black Repo Man
“Let’s go do some crimes.” –Archie the Skinhead Punk
And, of course, one of the best exchanges in movie history:
“But what about our relationship?” Says girlfriend to Otto right before he climbs into the glowing, outer space-bound Nova.
“Huh?”
“What about our relationship?”
“Oh, fuck that.”
It’s a cavalcade of silliness, a celebration of the ‘80s and a commentary on nuclear war (according to Cox, who later did Sid & Nancy), all backed by the greatest punk rock movie soundtrack ever, featuring the Circle Jerks (whose own Zander Schloss played the hapless Kevin), Los Plugz, Black Flag, the Juicy Bananas and a title tune by Iggy Pop himself.
20. American History X
Bankmeister: I want to talk about how important this movie is, but I’m terribly afraid of the utmost epic fail. How. How, I ask you, do you tackle race in America without pissing somebody off? How do you analyze someone else’s take on race without ruffling any less than 16,000 feathers? You just freaking can’t, I’m afraid. I’ve never spoken to anyone that was pissed off by this film, so there’s a good start. But again, I don’t know any white supremacists, either. Ultimately though, this film is about hate. It’s about crime. It’s about black and white, right versus wrong, learned lessons, and the irony in the notion that some unlearned hatred might, via circumstances make you hate all over again. But hopefully it won’t. I want to give credit to David McKenna for writing the piece so well. Also, I don’t know if the producer or the director is responsible for assembling the cast in movies, or if there’s even a specific formula. I do know this, though: I liked about as many characters as I hated in this film.
Edward Furlong is freaking terrible. Period. He annoyed the shit out of me in this movie, but he played the role of an obnoxious, warm-can-of-piss younger brother fairly well. Beverly D’Angelo as Doris. Awful. Not to mention that having the widowed, ill-from-smoking-too-much mother of four was just a bit overkill. About the only thing that Fairuza Balk (Stacey) did well in this film was get railed by Edward Norton’s character (Derek Vinyard) and make a strong case for deserving to be tossed in a landfill. She will never, ever make the cut for even a single-A version of Hot Chicks Wednesday. Unless she “helps write” the post from beneath my desk. And gives me five grand. The character Seth played by Ethan Suplee was a very uncomfortable presence. Had to be there, but yikes. If I ever met someone that racist, I would apply mascara to his face with a pitching wedge.
Conversely, Stacy Keach did a tremendous job playing the creep Cameron Alexander. Norton delivered one of his two finest performances ever (“Fight Club”) in the film, and Louis Gossett, Jr. Avery Brooks is spot on as Dr. Sweeney, and Guy Torry as Vinyard’s prison buddy in the laundry room was impressive. I think this film should be a requirement for every inner-city and suburb high school freshman to view and write about. If that were under enforcement, maybe, just maybe
there’d be a few less teeth smashed on the curb.
19. The Matrix
Bankmeister: How do you label “The Matrix”? Science Fiction? Big Brother? A decent film with a pair of disappointing sequels? Obnoxious because of Keanu? I label it smashing. Love this movie. The idea that the world we live in and know is all an illusion being projected before our eyes by an unseen entity is nothing shy of brilliant. Before this film, I’d never heard of the Wachowski (Andy and Larry) brothers, but they wrote and directed the piece, and for that they deserve credit. There’s not a whole lot else to say about it. Amazing idea. Great visual stimulation in the form of the actual real world being a massively huge, compartmentalized storage pod of bodies asleep to reality, while generating energy for the whole project. Fascinating concept to have humans be able to learn in a flash, on the fly, via cerebral downloading. The character names – Neo, Trinity, Morpheus, Tank, Dozer, etc. – left something to be desired, but a minimal price to pay for an action film that involved shooting crap and blowing stuff up for a new, interesting reason.
The film’s best character name was probably Agent Smith, played by Hugo Weaving And, you’ve got to give the thing some credit for the popularization of Jiu Jitsu, perhaps leading to the fad (Editor’s Note: It might be here to stay, but I’m hoping that it will pass, and real fighting, heavyweight boxing, will again become existent and awesome.) known as mixed martial arts. And the slow-mo bullet dodging, running up the wall stuff. That was new and cool. Lastly,
Carrie-Anne Moss,
and Monica Bellucci (sequels). Yes. And hell yes.
18. Hoosiers
Old No. 7: This is the only sports movie on our list, which seem odd. After all, this blog is nominally about sports, so you’d think we’d have loaded this fucker up with a bunch of jock-type cinema. Problem is, most sports movies suck. I’m a massive baseball fan, but there are only a few watchable movies that focus on the game, and all of them have big flaws. “Bull Durham” suffers from incurable Costner, “The Natural” is heavy on the schmaltz (and really, do you buy 60-year-old Redford playing big-league ball?), “A League of Their Own” has Rosie O’Donnell. Major League is probably the best and certainly the funniest, but it’s predictable and cheesy. Baseball is a hard game played by hard men, and when you take a bunch of soft Hollywood pansies to portray it inevitably they fuck it up.
Football movies are even worse (try sometime to watch The Longest Yard, I dare you). The best movies come from boxing -- it provides the most gripping action and lots of blood and cussing. But “Rocky” was well before our cutoff date, and “Cinderella Man” and “Million Dollar Baby” were good but not great. Surprisingly, cycling lends itself well to the silver screen—Breaking Away was epic, “American Flyers” was able to solve its case of the Costners and let’s not forget “Rad,” which was exactly that. And then you have a couple nice golf movies, “Caddyshack” (too early) and “Tin Cup” (again, too Costner).
Which leaves us with “Hoosiers,” an undeniably awesome movie.
You start with a coach who is blackballed for beating up kids, and I have no doubt those fucking brats deserved it. You have an assistant coach who’s a total drunk loser. You have a bunch of farm boys who hustle and scrap and never miss free throws -- although they’re all too skinny. You’re telling me there wasn’t one fat kid on that team? Every high school basketball team has a fat kid, especially in Indiana . The fat kid was the most realistic part of “Teen Wolf.” You had Jimmy Chitwood, brooding and mysterious superstar. And then you had a bunch of hayseed white boys who upset the talented but undisciplined inner-city black team, who’s coached by an idiot. Playing to stereotypes, always a crowd pleaser.
Bankmeister: Don’t get caught watchin’ the paint dry!
17. The Last of the Mohicans
Bankmeister: “The Last of the Mohicans” is my paid vacation, my peanut butter with jelly, my slider-cutter, my reach-around. I’m a giant sucker for any decent movie about Native American life, and I’m a huge fan of Daniel Day-Lewis. Michael Mann directed this film, and has since produced “Heat,” “The Aviator,” and “Hancock,” among others. Trevor Jones and Randy Edelman handled the soundtrack, which might be the best ever assembled, and not just because of this song:
I love that this story tackles the French and Indian War, one of the most misunderstood pieces of American history. I love that American colonists, settlers, are not the primary subject, and I love the gorgeous scenery, the cold-hearted hatred, the deceit, the cowardice. Day-Lewis, as in every film he’s done, demonstrates a seldom-mirrored talent, while Madeleine Stowe gives a bold display of both hunter and gatherer, with a peculiar beauty. Steven Waddington, as Col. Duncan Heyward hits a home run as a spineless, nobility lacking Brit, while the characters Chingachgook and Uncas are textbook definitions of badass. But the film wouldn’t be much of anything without Wes Studi’s portrayal of Magua, the Huron with the twisted heart.
The dialogue of the piece has its corny moments, but they are heavily outweighed by the abundance of awesome lines.
“Well, we kinda face to the north and real sudden-like turn left.” –Day-Lewis as Nathaniel Pope
“When the Grey Hair is dead, Magua will eat his heart. Before he dies, Magua will put his children under the knife, so the Grey Hair will know his seed is wiped out forever.” -Magua
“Great Spirit, Maker of All Life. A warrior goes to you swift and straight as an arrow shot into the sun. Welcome him and let him take his place at the council fire of my people. He is Uncas, my son. Tell them to be patient and ask death for speed; for they are all there but one - I, Chingachgook - Last of the Mohicans.”
I’ve probably seen this film 15 times, and each time, it’s just as moving as the first.
16. Die Hard
Cecil: “Die Hard” is awesome because things explode in it, and because Bruce Willis proved that he wasn’t just some douche with a fake blues album and a TV show with Cybill Shepherd. Alan Rickman played an evil European, which is kind of his specialty, but he did it first and best here.
How did James Cameron not make this one? He should have. For a few years there he made every huge, things-exploding movie, all of which brought in a metric tonne of cash and furthered his image as this kind of dynamic directorial superstar. Think about it: in quick succession, he did “Aliens,” “The Abyss,” “Terminator 2” -- that’s like the holy triumvirate of early blockbuster porn. But no, it was some dude named John McTiernan. I don’t know anything about John McTiernan and I’d like to keep it that way.
At least Bonnie Bedelia is in this movie.
Bedelia spent the better part of a decade or more appearing as the long -- suffering and/or kidnapped wife in huge, things-exploding movies. By movies, I mostly mean “movies of the week” on ABC, but she was in this one at least, which hopefully helped her pay off her gambling debts.
Alan Rickman dies. Sorry for the spoiler. And I still shudder a little bit when I see Willis walk shoeless across broken glass.
15. This is Spinal Tap
Cecil: Christopher Guest never again wrote a movie as good as this first “mockumentary,” a word that we pretend actually exists simply so we have some way to describe Guest’s work. Not “Best in Show,” not the stultifying “Waiting for Guffman” nor “A Mighty Wind.” Nope, “Spinal Tap” hit all the notes first and best, everything else was just wankery for the PBS crowd. That’s probably the case because Rob Reiner directed it, and Reiner knows the value of keeping an audience awake. Everyone knows the plot. There’s no need to go into it, except to say that the improvisation which Guest famously demands of his actors is sharp. So sharp that if a time traveler from, say, 1946 showed up to see it at a midnight movie screening, he’d never guess that the dialogue was largely off-the-cuff. (He’d also probably freak out at the presence of negroes in the film-house, too, although that might not be an issue with a Guest movie.)
The genius of "Tap" isn’t complicated: rock and roll stars are truly dumbasses, so we have no problem making the leap from Paul Stanley to Nigel Tufnel, from Richie Sambora to David St. Hubbins. Their enablers really are mealy-mouthed second-stringers like Tony Hendra -- who is also a child-molesting scumbag in real life -- and record execs are all really Fran Drescher.
There are probably websites devoted entirely to arguing about the best lines. For my money you can’t beat when they are arguing over whether or not to make the album cover art a naked woman, leashed and on all fours with a man’s hand shoving a glove in her face, and Drescher’s character says that it’s sexist. Tufnel replies “what’s wrong with being sexy?”
14. Forrest Gump
Bankmeister: “Life,” according to John Lennon, “is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. “Life,” as we know from Forrest Gump, “is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.” I cannot believe that this movie is 15 years old. It seems like only yesterday that I was wiping the teary snot on my sleeve in the theater as Forrest spoke to Jenny at her grave. Director Robert Zemeckis took a common concept, the life of a less-than-intelligent man, and tells one of the greatest stories the world has ever heard. Gump lives his so-called ordinary life, a life that runs the gamut of pop culture and American history, and nobody notices, nobody cares. He accomplishes more in one-quarter of the film than most do in their whole lives. And he has love, too. He gives it, unconditionally, but just can’t get it in return, until he ultimately does, and the source of it dies.
I’ve always had tremendous respect for Sally Field, ever since “Sybil” and “Places in the Heart.” She’s a great actress, and she’s adorable. Robin Wright Penn and Hanna Hall were excellent as Jenny, and I will go to my grave thinking of Gary Sinise as Lieutenant Dan.
But of course the big factor is Mr. Tom Hanks, the best actor of our generation. How one man can continue to deliver one dynamic performance after another is inconceivable. His facial expressions, his cadence, and his gait as Gump truly capture human emotion. If you’re a dude, and you think this is mushy, and you can tell me that you weren’t shaken when he said, “I’m not a smart man…but I know what love is,” then you are missing something from your internal inventory. If the line, “She tasted like cigarettes,” didn’t make you empathize and laugh at the same time, you might not be wired right.
Cinema is not an easy thing to write about, largely because of the subjectivity in viewing it. Is there a universal formula for what makes a good movie? If there is, I’ve yet to discover it. One thing I know for certain is that “Forrest Gump” is one of the best movies I’ve ever seen, and I’m thrilled that it – be it intentional or “accidental-like on a breeze” – was made.
13. Unforgiven
Cecil: This is one of my favorite movies of all time. I’m a huge Eastwood fanboy to start with, and this is one of his really, truly impressive movies -- no lazy self-ripoff like “Pale Rider” or silly monkey-assisted hooraw like “Any Which Way But Loose,” more on the lines of “High Plains Drifter” (another of my all-time favorite films) or “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.”
Unlike those last two, though, Clint directed Unforgiven. It was lauded by the critical types when it came out as “the last Western” or whatever, which is ridiculous, but still made some sense in context. This was a movie without heroes or true villains, there was no binary conflict between good and evil with good winning out in a hail of gunfire at the end. Eastwood played an old farmer out to make some money, money that he badly needed, and some whores were going to pay it to him to kill some guys he had no beef with to do it. He was a bad guy (or at least, had been one), the guys he killed were bad guys, the sheriff (Gene Hackman in a tour de force) was a bad guy -- but even though all of them lived by a kind of justifiable code of conduct, no one wore the white hat in this film.
Except maybe Morgan Freeman, who ended up tortured to death. Eastwood has never been better -- the end scene always gets me, when, after killing everyone in the bar, he walks out and screams at the terrified, cowardly townsfolk. “You all better bury Ned right! Or not otherwise cut up or harm no whores…or I’ll come back. Kill every one of you sons of bitches. Kill your families. Burn your goddamn house down.” Wow.
Bankmeister: Right turn, Clyde.
12: Friday
Bankmeister: I cannot recall an occasion in which I have ever wished that I, for many years, did not smoke a gazillion pounds of reefer. It would be nice, however, to have that uncannabinolled lucidity in order to discuss the movie “Friday.” Actually, forget that. I can imagine it just fine: “Friday” is an incredibly awesome movie, one that the Iron Triangle watched over and over again in the office of The Independent in the College Union Building of THE Fort Lewis College. Mind you, the repeated viewing of the film often delayed putting the paper to bed, which delayed pretending to study for actual classes, which delayed our crucial time drunk in the bars. And the only reason we got to watch it so many times was because we were constantly too high to a) remember, or b) care enough to return our loaner A/V cart w/TV. Weed is definitely a focal point to the movie, but you don’t have to be a stoner to enjoy it. Of that I’m certain. The humor, courtesy of writers Ice Cube and DJ Pooh, of the plot, the dialogue, and the characters’ mentality outwits the cinematic humor of most anything that was going on circa 1995 when the film was released. You’ve got an all-star case with Cube, John Witherspoon, Tiny Lister, and of course, Chris Tucker.
Now, I never saw any of the sequels. I might one of these days, if I happen upon one being on, but Tucker went the way of Disney after the original, and for my money, has never played as funny a role since. All of the “Rush Hour”s are on basic cable all of the time, and those aren’t bad movies, but when I watch them, I want to channel Tucker to tell him that he was so much better as Smokey. Although, he was pretty damn good as Ruby Rhod in “The Fifth Element.”
But the dialogue. It’s a bit foolish to drop a few “Friday” quotes since there are so many good ones, but it’d be even foolisher to not leave a few. That said, you gotta give props to:
“Remember it. Write it down. Take a picture. I don’t give a fuck!”
“Borrow my car? Most people wanna borrow some sugar. Man, hell no!”
“Stealin’ boxes? Man what you tryin’ to do? Build a clubhouse?”
“Next thing I know, I was locked up in Deebo chicken coop. Only person could get me out my mama. That’s why I be like, ‘Fuck Hector.’” and
“You got knocked the fuck out!”
There are literally dozens more. In fact, there’s not a bad line in the movie.
11. The Big Lebowski
Old No. 7: A thinking man’s comedy, “Lebowski” is not only the best bowling movie ever made (sorry Kingpin), it’s also the best of the million or so films logged by the Bridges family (Jeff, Beau, Lloyd). You could make the argument that the Bridgeses are wildly underrated, while the Sheen/Estevez posse and the Baldwins are completely overrated.
Riddle me this: are John Goodman and Steve Buscemi great actors, or do both simply fill a niche caricature very effectively? Goodman was phenomenal in “Raising Arizona,” “Barton Fink,” “Lebowski” and “Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?” But those are all Coen Brothers movies, and the Coen Brothers are simply the best filmmakers of all time, so I think we should look at the rest of his resume. Which blows. His big starring roles were as historical figures, Huey Long and Babe Ruth. Unwatchable. He’s got a bunch of supporting stuff, and his best acting job was pretending that he’d willingly fuck Roseanne Barr. I say Goodman’s basically a hack.
Buscemi’s best work was also with the Coens (“Miller’s Crossing,” “Fink,” “Hudsucker Proxy,” “Lebowski,” and especially “Fargo”). But he had funny roles in all of the good Adam Sandler movies and the most bad-ass part in “Reservoir Dogs” (Mr. Pink). I’m willing to overlook his shitty, mailed-in arc on “The Sopranos” that destroyed the fourth season, because he also directed some of my favorite earlier episodes of that show. At the end of the day, Buscemi is a killer actor but just short of Cooperstown as a leading man.
In closing, what the fuck are you talking about? The Chinaman is not the issue here, Dude. I’m talking about drawing a line in the sand, Dude. Across this line, you do not…also, Dude, Chinaman is not the preferred nomenclature. Asian-American, please.
There you go, ladies and gents. Come back tomorrow for the top 10. Read more
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