Classic cinema: two words that are bound to intimidate the most casual of moviegoers. Even most avid film lovers struggle to enjoy films from prior to the mid-sixties due, in large part, to the inevitable reality that is the natural progression of time. Outdated storylines, visuals, acting and many other things that make up the basic structure of a film, golden age cinema stays stuck in its era. I consider myself to be a broad connoisseur (a little too pretentious) of cinema from many genres and decades, but classic cinema has always been a struggle for me to enjoy. I can certainly appreciate what these films meant for the time, but the golden-glazed corniness and ‘play-it-safe’ censorship makes for uninteresting experiences. There are, however, a number of films from this monumental era that defy this stereotype. While most of these choices would be no-brainers for film buffs and older readers, I wanted to gear this towards younger, and more general readers. I’m 26 myself, so allow me to be the voice that speaks to that apprehension that lies in the back of your mind. Here’s some films your grandparents would appreciate.
Nosferatu (1922)
Don’t let the release year scare you more than the actual film, Nosferatu has integrated itself into Horror pop culture for a reason. I only watched this recently as an attempt to broaden out my choices for this article. I went through a few, but only this one was a last minute addition. I’ve been fascinated by this film for some time. Many my age will remember that one episode of Spongebob Squarepants that used imagery directly from this film for the sake of a bizarre, nonsensical joke; it terrified us all. As my knowledge of film expanded in my teenage years, I learnt just how far this character went back. The first ever screen adaptation of Dracula (made without permission) was made in silent-era Germany. Don’t let that term throw you off, the silence only adds to the horror.
To summarize the plot is to summarize that of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. It centers around a young estate agent by the name of Thomas Hutter, who is sent to Transylvania to sell a house to a mysterious count by the name of Orlock. Hutter is warned by the village that to turn back, told stories of vampires, but Hutter brushes it off as mere child stories. After spending a few nights at Orlock’s castle, Hutter soon realizes the fears of the townspeople were correct, and the ghastly count plans to stowaway on a ship boarded for Germany, so that he can feast on the blood of Hutter’s wife.
Though it was the 1931 Dracula adaptation that most will remember, there’s something special about this unauthorized adaptation, outside of it being unauthorized. Due to how fast-paced most films of the silent era were, this movie manages to rush through the iconic story. This would typically bother me in most cases, but it does this while never losing its focus. Through title cards of text, we are given all we need to know, the mere actions of the cast, through exaggerated expressions and elaborate body movements, there’s no need for any exposition. The look of the nefarious count is still haunting today. He stands mostly in shadows, with the camera often position from far away. He’s less human looking, stepping away from the conventional suave gentleman that we’re so used to.
There’s genuine fear in this film that most Horrors of the era have lost. I always agree with this idea that Horror and Comedy are the genre that always age the worst, as these emotions we generate change over time, but Nosferatu manages to defy those expectations. Perhaps it’s the grainy footage, or the stilted, monstrous look of the count, but I found myself feeling a real sense of chilling down my spine whenever the count was shown. Even aside from the Horror elements, the main characters feel as timeless as ever. Even the obligatory romance of classic cinema feels like a fairytale, and we get a surprisingly relevant moment of empowerment from the female lead.
I initially gave this film a rather average review on my Letterboxd, but the more I lamented, the more I found myself loving it. There is very little that is worth complaining about, and for me to say that about a silent film from 1922 is impressive. I’ve seen films from the 60’s that have aged worse than this. Even in comparison to the official adaptation that came some ten years later, it does a better job of telling the story. I was able to get this film from the BFI’s restoration collection. It took a while to find it, but it was well worth the watch, even for simple curiosity sake.
The Manxman (1929)
This has to be the most obscure film in this article. I never get the chance to talk about the work of legendary director, Alfred Hitchcock, mainly due to my cut-off for reviews going only as far back as 1960. There are a few films he did past this year, but the large meat of his work came from the many decades before this. I did do a one-off review of Shadow of a Doubt, but I wanted to pick one that barely anyone would know about. This is where The Manxman comes in. Another silent-era film, it was one that came about when Hitchcock was still trying to find his voice. A love triangle with a depressing storyline, it’s not exactly monumental for the time, but it’s one that’s stayed on mind for quite some time.
Having grown up together as if they were brothers, fisherman, Pete and lawyer, Phillip both fall for the same woman, Kate. Though Pete eventually ends up marrying the woman he has become so infatuated with, even fathering a child with her, she lives through a face of lies, never truly caring for him the same way. Pete is unaware of how miserable Kate feels, and as he prepares for a fishing trip, Kate begins bonding with the yearning Phillip. In a surprising narrative spin for the time, we have an anti-romance film that betrays they typical Hollywood style of writing for the time.
I’ve never been one for romance stories, as overly cliche as it sounds coming from a man. There’s no machismo involved here, there are just very few films in this genre that feel convincing enough. Films from the 1920’s were prevalent with this outdated, romanticized view on marriage and just relationships in general, so for a film from this era to come along with the message that “love is not always destined” is shockingly ahead of its time.
Even putting aside this, the film is quite well-told. Though it is a three-piece picture, Pete is very much the protagonist. You sympathize with him every step of the way, so to see him fall into the obvious traps of pure, one-sided infatuation is grueling. Even with this childish view of love, you can’t help but admire the man’s wide-eyed optimism. When the last act kicks in, seeing reality tumble down on him is just depressing; you feel every emotion he’s experiencing in that quick second. Even his romantic interest, as seemingly cruel as she can come across, is quite sympathetic herself. Caught in her own romanticized view of the world, she seems to admit reality far earlier than Pete. Though her actions in the last act are cruel, there’s a part of you that feels she’s justified.
I can’t say this film is one that’s going to stand the test of time the way these other films have, and there are certainly better and more impressive films from Hitchcock, but there is something fascinating about this one. In an era where every romance story was told the same way, here’s one that questions that portrayal. The tone having a sense of melancholy also betrays that of the happily-told stories of the era. I do enjoy a feel-good movie, it’s always something we need to keep us going in these troublesome times, but sadness is also important for us to understand and appreciate.
Perhaps it was the fact that I was sifting through an early Hitchcock collection that was filled with, mostly, mediocre to decent films and then followed by this, but I still think this one was quite forward-thinking. While not especially unique, it is something worth checking out.
Modern Times (1936)
Charlie Chaplin is a bit of a curiosity for myself. There’s a lot I admire about this comedy genius, knowing way too much information on him, be it his early, poverty-ridden upbringing, his long journey to being discovered in America or even his heavy communist views, but I had never seen a single one of his films until most recently. The film that inspired me to want to write this article much sooner than planned, Modern Times is probably his most famous film. A fascinating commentary on the Great Depression, and only on the cusp of World War II beginning, it’s shocking just how well this film has aged, but also for how greatly it encapsulates this specific era.
Chaplin takes his most famous character, The Tramp, into the working-class world of the late 1930’s. Initially working in a factory, causing wild hi-jinks and mishaps, the clownish tramp is thrown into jail after a misunderstanding. Though he’s quite fearful of the violence of prison, he soon becomes content with the life he’s living, feeling as though the living conditions are far better. After an accidental moment of stopping a prison breakout, he is let go, but he struggles to adjust to the world, wanting to be sent back. This changes when he meets a young girl who is left stealing on the streets after her dad dies and her sister is taken by child services. She and the tramp try their best to make a life for themselves, with the tramp doing any odd job he can.
As I mentioned with Nosferatu and how Horror often ages the worst, I also said that Comedy follows that path as well. With Chaplin, however, there has always been this widely agreed upon opinion that he stands as one of the outliers. Modern Times more than proves this point. Aside from the obvious parallels to the world around him, Chaplin’s knack for physical comedy, slapstick or otherwise, is put on full display here. There’s the iconic scene of Chaplin being stuck in the gears, with an elaborate set piece that cares little for logic, but even small moments where it’s just Chaplin and an old woman sitting on a bench and their stomachs are rumbling is played up so much, it builds and builds, helped greatly by Chaplin’s wild movements. There’s a great scene of Chaplin playing around with a decaying house, where every prop he touches breaks apart in seconds. There’s even a scene where Chaplin unintentionally ingests cocaine and just goes wild (I am not kidding.)
I don’t want to spoil anymore jokes that the film has, there’s just so many being thrown out a mile a minute. This film also came out after the silent era was slowly retiring, and the tramp had stuck to this silent treatment. There are moments of dialogue here and there, and sound effects make a great substitute for all of this, but a monumental moments comes at the end that shook up this status quo. I honestly do believe that I would be robbing you from a truly hilarious experience if I highlighted more of my favorite jokes, so you simply see for yourself.
What makes this film feel eerily relevant is its views on capitalism and the general criticism of the middle to upper class. Regardless of whatever your political stance is, the reality that is the working class getting screwed over has been a problem for quite some time. Here, we have a film from 1936 that feels reflective of current times, modern if you will. We see people lose their jobs, avid communist supporters protesting the government, a poor youth being chased away for wanting basic necessities and many other pieces of imagery that betrays its comedic nature. Chaplin clearly puts his political views forward, but with how great this depression was a the time, it’s no wonder that the young foreigner from a poverty background, basing an entire character or on the situation, would want to spread these views across the medium he perfected.
This film is shockingly timeless. Put aside any aversion to silent language, black and white visuals or even the downwards look upon slapstick comedy and seek this one out. It’s given me the desire to pour into Chaplin’s other films, and I simply cannot wait.
Citizen Kane (1941)
I really had to wrestle with myself before I put Citizen Kane here. It’s not exactly a film lost to time, with its influence being echoed in much of modern cinema, but what made me second guess this was the pure fact that every time I’ve encouraged others to watch the film, they always come back saying they were bored or didn’t understand why it was so beloved. I certainly don’t want to gate keep people’s thoughts and feelings, but I do feel that most seem to disregard the extra depth that pours so thoroughly into the subtext of the film. For film enthusiasts, it’s no wonder why I would recommend it.
Immediately starting with the death of our protagonist, Charles Foster Kane, an investigative journalist surveys the meaning of his last words, “rosebud.” In the form of flashbacks, we watch as Kane goes from the child of a poverty-stricken family, enjoying his time sledding through the snow, to being adopted by a wealthy business owner. Kane is taught the importance of wealth, and he becomes more and more brainwashed by the darker side of high-class society. What Kane doesn’t realize is how much of a toll this has had on his mental state, dealing with repressed trauma, having had his childhood ripped away from him, Kane falls further and further into loneliness.
This movie had a massive impact when it released. Orson Welles, who both starred and directed, clearly treated this film with a personable passion. We’ve seen many films today that deconstruct the mental traumas of a robbed childhood, but for 1941, this was new ground. This scathing criticism of upper class society, and how it corrupts everyone it touches, isn’t all too unique, even for the time, but it being accused of entirely corrupting innocence is almost below-the-belt behavior that never felt so stark. If you place your entire focus on Kane and only Kane, you end up getting a self-contained story of depression and fragility that was so disguised in those times, especially substantial for a male lead.
Even aside from all this subtext, there is so much to admire about its visual representation. It is not to say that films of the time were not varied in this visual style, but none quite used it to tell a story. So much of the world is presented in a large, open space, but the focus of the camera never leaves Kane. The dynamic angles, the stunning performances, the domineering score, so much paints a picture of industrial isolation.
I can understand why so many today will simply brush this film off as an aged piece of cinema that isn’t worth watching today, but it’s important to remember what this film meant for the time it came out. It’s often regarded as one of the greatest films ever made, and that comes down to the fact that films just weren’t laden with so many layers of story-telling. I implore everyone, especially those of who I recommended the film to, to really soak up everything presented. I will never stop singing the praises of what I see as a timeless piece of cinema.
Harvey (1950)
Here’s something a little more lighthearted. The word ‘timeless’ is thrown around quite freely these days, and very few films actually fit that criteria. The films I’ve spoken about can certainly fit that description, but with Harvey, I honestly think that statement is as true as ever. Amidst the countless ‘played safe’ films of the early era of cinema, here we have one that so comfortable that it negates any issues I have with that lack of risk-taking. Even aside from how pleasant the film is, there’s some surprising added context surrounding mental health and the idea of accepting those with illness; to be not so judgemental.
James Stewart subverts his typical strong leading man role for a hapless schizophrenic that believes a giant rabbit named Harvey has been following him around his entire life. His sister becomes far too concerned for he brother’s well-being and tricks him into being sent to a mental institute. In a classic situation of comedic misunderstanding, the sister is the one who ends up in the mental asylum, and Stewart’s Elwood takes to the town, befriending the doctor and nurse in the process. As Elwood makes his rounds, he manages to convince many more people that Harvey really is there. As grounded as the world around him seems, you begin to question Harvey’s existence yourself.
There are so few films I would completely label as wholesome, but Harvey really defines that word. My worry when I initially watched this a couple years ago was that I would be subject to outdated mocking of the mentally ill, what I really didn’t expect was how far in the opposite direction it traveled. The film really isn’t about mental health issues, it’s more about simply enjoying life and allowing yourself to escape into a fantasy world every now and then. There’s never any subversion with the main character, he truly believes a giant rabbit has been with him all his life, and we never see what he sees. The film encourages you to simply accept what Elwood sees.
I really love how this film talks back to those who try to rob others of their happiness. Elwood is content with his life, seeing Harvey as a force of good and using the teachings he has learnt from his imaginary friend to bestow onto others. The script is so carefully written that you find yourself going through the same motions that the supporting characters do: you laugh at the prospect of Harvey existing and at the end, you find yourself believing that Harvey could exist.
I will say that there are aspects of the film that may not hold up. There’s a forced romance that does serve the message, but entirely unnecessary and the way it shoves away the idea of helping those with mental health issues and simply letting them be can come across as neglectful. These issues are really only nitpicks in the grand scheme of such a great film. If you can past the black-and-white presentation, it’s even one worth showing to your kids. Maybe I’m being too optimistic with that one.
Rebel Without a Cause (1955)
It’s the only color film on my list! Unlike the previous films I’ve talked about, ‘Rebel’ isn’t one that I would call timeless in any stretch of the word. You could relate much of the teenage angst to general issues that plague the youth of each generation, but what makes this so of its time is that it’s so wrapped in the 1950’s. The post World War II generation had a new sense of rebellion, liberated through the turn of a new decade, these kids started to rebel against this idea of simply following in their parents’ footsteps. Rebel Without a Cause is the culmination of that universal mindset.
The Rebel in question is James Dean’s Jim Stark, a problematic teenager that has moved to a new town after a vague crime he committed. His parents appear to be very normal, with Jim’s rebellion coming from his father’s controlling nature. Jim soon finds himself in conflict with the roughs of his school. Finding romance with Judy, who is neglected by her parents, and friendship with young Plato, who is ostracized for not carrying that same masculinity that all men were expected to have. This trio of social outcasts begin to find solace with each other, but this also brings terrible consequences.
Whenever I get the chance to talk about this film, which is very rarely, I always praise it for how specific it is to the decade it was released. The 50’s are such an interesting point in time. The war instilled fear into everyone’s mind, so the next generation were bred with this idea that they must work to be part of a stronger world. This film encapsulates what every teenager felt: that lack of identity. The main trio are all subject to how little their voices are heard. Jim only opposes his father because he is being propped up as a carbon copy of him, Judy being made to follow the path that every woman was expected to of being a simple housewife, ignoring her dreams, and Plato is seen as a foreigner who is looked down upon, not to be given the same liberties as his peers.
I describe this film as a time capsule. The world has changed dramatically since the 50’s and ‘Rebel’ serves as a reminder of what we almost didn’t have. In a sense, you could say that the film has aged phenomenally. We are given so much more freedom to explore the things we enjoy, and while some families still teach their kids to live up to a specific standard, most of Western culture is built on unique expressionism. There’s obviously a lot more to this film than just its timing. The characters are all given double layers to their motivation, it goes into some truly dark areas and the final moments are depressingly haunting. Deep down, however, it’s all done to give us a scathing criticism of society around that time.
12 Angry Men (1957)
Question: how do you make an entire film where it is just twelve men in a room arguing over the fate of a person interesting? You make it a deconstruction of people’s greatest fears and preconceived beliefs that breaks down masculine stereotypes in the process. I cannot think of a more suited film to end on. Though I’ve been listing these films in order of release, 12 Angry Men was always one that I wanted to save for the end. People still talk endlessly on how perfect this film feels, and that’s for good reason. For a film in the 50’s to put the subject of discrimination in the spotlight and to then look down upon it is impressive in its own right, even more so now.
As the title suggests, the focus is put on twelve jurors that have much of their own gripes. A young ethnic teenager is put on trial for the murder of his father. Though eleven of the jury members are ready to convict the child, one member believes there is more to the story than is presented. As impartial as the jury must remain, it becomes clear that they all have their own reasons for wanting to convict the teenager. For one it is a race issue, for another it’s their class, for another it’s for their age, and this list of reasons goes on and on. With only one person willing to give the boy a chance, he begins to convince the remaining members of the jury that perhaps the boy is innocent.
I do have a soft spot for courtroom dramas, so my opinion may feel a tad biased, but I don’t think that bias takes precedent over the phenomenal writing. It’s impressive that we get a story centered entirely in one location and with pure dialogue alone, but to have us see these characters’ greatest problems pulled apart and slowly demolished is ingenious. One could criticize the fact that this nameless jury are nothing more than nameless character traits, but that’s the intention. You go into the film making your own judgments of these people. Slowly, your perception shifts, with revealing information that can make you downright despise a person, or are disgusted that they would go as far as they do with their views. That’s the brilliance of the film: you are in that jury room just as they are.
Whatever the meaning behind the movie is, you still have to keep the audience engaged with such limited tools. 12 Angry Men is entirely dialogue driven, which can bore a modern audience. What can keep you engaged is the mystery element of the film. There’s still a point to the plot: to prove the innocence of a boy that has seemingly killed his father. The film cleverly keeps us second guessing, and while you can probably tell what the final verdict may be, it’s interesting seeing just how each character can be broken down to admitting their own notions. One infamous scene that happens towards the end creates a feeling of disgust that you wouldn’t ever expect from a film of this time.
12 Angry Men would be my definitive recommendation for this list. I obviously encourage you to seek out each of these films, but if you can only pick one, this is the best choice. 12 Angry Men fits perfectly into that echelon of perfect movies. I have literally nothing bad to say about it. It can feel very slow and the lack of diverse locations can throw most casual viewers off, but it is worth checking out.
Happy watching!
There were many films I took into consideration for this list that I ultimately scrapped, either to avoid repeating directors or because, while I enjoyed them, they don’t hold up incredibly well. I considered Singin’ in the Rain for a long time before it got axed, because while it’s incredibly fun and entertaining, much of the classic musical numbers feel very dated, and the glamorizing of Hollywood doesn’t exactly bode well these days. I really had to fight myself on which Hitchcock film to pick. Before The Manxman, I considered doing North by Northwest, but with how popular it is, and given the other films I picked being rather iconic, I wanted a much obscure one.
I do encourage you to look for more films from this classic era. It’s definitely a difficult one to enjoy, but there are some fantastic films that shaped the way cinema is today. Perhaps not too interesting in today’s world, their at least fascinating. I may do a 60’s centric list later down the line as an unofficial part two, but for now, enjoy looking for these brilliant films.
Side note: There’s so much black and white across this entire article, I almost cried when I got to Rebel Without a Cause. I need more color.
Written by Conor Johnson.