2022 has passed, or at least it will have by the time this article goes up, and it had me reflecting on all the great films that had released. While the overall year may not have been the greatest in the grand scheme of political divide and the threat of a third world war, the film landscape was spectacular. That being said, I wanted to hold off on that specific year for a little bit to talk about the older films that managed to enlighten my cinematic experiences and give me lasting memories that will forever carry onto my later years.
I always aim to watch a newly experienced film almost every day, so I have a slew of films that could easily ram this entire article, but I decided to narrow it down to a film for each decade (from the 20’s) leading up to the 2020’s. I will not be covering films in that decade, as my final choice is going to make my 2022 list. I hand-picked the films that had a profound, or ferociously entertaining, impact on me. It’s a list of films I encourage just about everybody to watch. Without further ado, let’s cycle into the roaring 20’s…the old 20’s, not this current hellscape.
1920’s
We’re going far back for this one. Early on in the year, I began pouring into the realm of the Horror genre; one that I had somewhat ignored due to my terrible squeamishness. This year was laden with countless, and iconic, Horror films, but Nosferatu isn’t exactly one that would get the blood pressure boiling. I’ve been curious about this film since that one episode of Spongebob Squarepants (yes, I am a millennial) and I remember the image of the ghoulish count left me mildly traumatised. I learnt more about this film in the many years since, but it was only last year that I finally sat down and watched it.
Nosferatu is a masterclass in Horror, that is to say, it laid the foundation for much of the Horror we consume today. Being an unauthorised adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, the film also began the tradition of countless adaptations of the prolific novel. Heading into this film, I was worried that the age of the film, and the tropes that have been more fine-tuned in later years, would bore me, but this couldn’t further from the truth. I absolutely love this film.
Drawing its terrifying atmosphere from the hauntingly dark look of the world around the characters and the outwardly unsettling appearance of Count Orlock, this film uses simple techniques. Just seeing the ghastly count standing far in the background and staring at the audience is enough to send shivers down your spine. The silent nature of the film only lends to the haunting atmosphere, allowing the imagery to work its magic. The characters still remain interesting and are complimented by the sheer physical dedication of the silent era.
For me, this was an ageless experience. I can see people being put off by the one-hundred year difference, but I implore everyone to watch this. The 20’s is such a fascinating era to me, as we see the eve of modern cinema, with film makers experimenting with new ways of story-telling. I watched a few Dracula adaptations this year, with the class Hammer adaptation from the 50’s and Coppola’s phenomenal version from the 90’s, and while Nosferatu may not live up to that later version, it’s still one of my favourites. I loved this film so much it made it into my Classic Cinema article.
1930’s
Another first for me came in the form of Charlie Chaplin. In all my years of cinematic divulgence, I had never looked too far into the comedy legends of the early era. Chaplin is considered, by many, to be one of the great fore-fathers of the Comedy genre, but I was always very cautious. Comedy tends to age the poorest of all genres, with subjective humour evolving year after year. That said, I knew I had to watch one of Chaplin’s eventually, and I started with one of his most infamous films: Modern Times.
Modern Times may invite the audience to a world so specific to the Great Depression of the pre-war world, but it has stood the test of time for how relevant much of it feels to the increasingly capitalist sentiments of Western culture. Chaplin, a devoted Communist, provides scathing criticisms of America during one of the most enduring times of their history. Not afraid to express his views, he mocks the rich and wealthy with a brilliant, timeless comedy. His slapstick antics lead to some hilarious visuals, complimented greatly by Chaplin’s knack for working around the limitations of the Silent Era. Adding to this is a fun chain of circumstances that will have you laughing just as much as any modern comedy. The message is still strong, with the melancholy feeling persisting. Whatever your political views, it’s hard not to sympathise with the Tramp’s turmoil.
As this is my first Chaplin film, there wasn’t much for me to fall back onto. The most of what I had known about the legendary performer came from the excellent biopic during the nineties. I understand that this film followed an entire legacy of Chaplin expeditions, but in this contained viewing experience, this had been an eye-opening experience. The financial recession that we are currently in matches so closely to the strife of the character, with his hapless attempts at keeping a job feeling too relevant. That said, it never writhes in pain, it has the nerve to speak up against those in power while also finding solace in making jokes about the turmoil. I was charmed and consistently impressed by how smart this film felt, recognising immediately why Chaplin was considered such a genius.
Like Nosferatu, I included this in my Classic Cinema article. It’s one that will stand the test of time for many decades to come. In a way, that’s more depressing than anything, but is tragedy not the perfect companion to comedy? I imagine Chaplin would’ve thought so.
Other Highlights:
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931)
Freaks (1932)
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)
1940’s
Here’s something that I feel almost shy about admitting: I don’t care much for 40’s cinema. While looking back on the previous year, I noticed that the few 40’s films I watched were met with middling opinions. There’s something about the era that feels stale to me. Outside of the classic Hitchcock affairs, I’ve always brushed this off as one of the most uninventive decades in cinematic history. That is not, however, to dismiss the masterpiece that is the Italian classic of Bicycle Thieves.
In a similar vain to Modern Times, it presented a world of recession, this time in a setting unfamiliar to American and British audiences of the 40’s. Unlike Modern Times, this film is far more depressing, presenting a working world of hopelessness with very little humour. The main character drags his young son around to see him fail to maintain a job, or to fail spectacularly at getting a job in the first place. These failures are not from that of the main character’s abilities, but from the world be so relentlessly cruel. It draws raw emotion from such a relatable subject matter that it’s hard not to feel a sense of pity and deep sadness.
I’m a bit of a sadist when it comes to depressing cinema. I admire when a film can draw such raw emotion out of me; it stands above the very easy, homeliness of the feel-good affair. I do like when a film can make me feel comfortable, it’s certainly needed in these awful times, but it’s important to address the problems of the world as well and make us feel that little bit of sadness. Bicycle Thieves shows us a man down on his luck, but to add that extra bit of pain, his son has to watch his father be demoralised at every turn. This works so well as an accompaniment to Chaplin’s satire, but both present the same issue a decade apart with different approach. It’s raw and emotional and I found myself deeply sympathetic all the way through.
Bicycle Thieves isn’t as easy to recommend as the other two films I’ve talked about. Even aside from the more depressing subject matter, there is a more aged feel to it. I personally loved it, despite my lack of care for 40’s cinema, but to a modern audience, it’s difficult to watch. Italian films are ones that I’ve learnt to love more in the last two years, with the language of these films being so rich in atmosphere and a romantic heart that is hardly matched by our British sentiment. A beautiful film, it’s not the only Italian movie I fell in love with this year.
Other highlights:
It’s a Wonderful Life (1946)
The Third Man (1949)
1950’s
I’ve loved Japanese cinema for quite some time, hell, Japanese culture in general has been curious wonder for me for as long as I can remember, but films the films of this country have been especially fascinating to watch. With the plethora of Japanese films I’ve seen, I felt quite ashamed to say that I had only seen a couple Akira Kurosawa films, neither of which had included his legendary Seven Samurai. I finally watched it this year, amongst a handful of Kurosawa’s other samurai films, but I wasn’t as attached to that as I thought I would be. No, Throne of Blood had me contemplating much of the director’s masterworks instead.
Bringing me back to an old school nemesis of mine in William Shakespeare, this looser adaptation of Macbeth immediately struck me as a phenomenal idea. With countless, straightforward retellings of the same story, to reconceptualise that into the realm of the much beloved samurai genre was such a relief. Kurosawa takes full advantage of this new coat of paint, with intense storytelling and wilder battle scenes. The spiritual side of the story is only strengthened by that folklore-inspired approach, having the witch being more of a soothsayer and the stand-in for Lady Macbeth being much more unhinged through her dependence on spirituality. Adding Kurosawa’s immense eye for the spectacular, the final conflict is nothing short of perfection.
I can see some of the stronger fans of Shakespeare’s works disliking this particular reinvention. It does stray from the source material in favour of slightly more bombastic imagery, but it’s that very bombastic nature that had me gripped. With the same tired stories being recycled time and time again, it’s refreshing to have such a prolific director just have fun. These other films I’ve talked about gave me some sense of profound introspection, but this one is simply entertaining. That is not to say this film is devoid of artistry; it’s how Kurosawa carefully crafts the entertainment that makes this so distinct. He knows how to make thos most out of such simple concepts, something equivalent to Spielberg’s vision of the eighties.
I watched a number of Kurosawa films last year, but it was Throne of Blood that stuck in my mind. It’s not difficult to see why this director cross borders and became cemented in Western cinema. While I am disappointed that Seven Samurai didn’t quite live up to my expectations, I still left that year with a great admiration for the director. This is one that’s so easy to recommend to anyone now, just as much as every other film he’s directed.
Other highlights:
I Confess (1953)
Seven Samurai (1954)
The Hidden Fortress (1958)
The Defiant Ones (1958)
1960’s
As mentioned way back up there when I talked about Nosferatu, I got into the habit of cruising through many of the most iconic Horror films of all time. I’ve found, over the years, that my preference with horror tends to gear towards the psychological side of things. Shoving away the excessive use of gore and lazy jump-scares, my tastes have refined to an almost pompous extent. What glanced over my horror-filled vision was Roman Polanski’s iconic Horror classic, Rosemary’s Baby. Regardless of what I think of Polanski as a person, it’s been hard to deny his talented body of work. That alone was enough reason to prioritise this particular film.
Watching Horror films from the 60’s is always a treat because you can see the transition between old, safer horror and more daring, timelessly terrifying horror. Rosemary’s Baby creates an unsettling atmosphere from the very beginning and it never dissipates. Even just a simple scene of a couple walking through a flat feels uncanny. You always feel that something is wrong, questioning reality and the sanity of our main character. Something that later Horror films can fail to do is make us sympathise with the victim, but Rosemary is somebody you feel an immense need to care for. Adding to this a possible satanic cult and the possibility that Rosemary is housing the little Antichrist and you get a film that balances unsettle and disturbance in a winding ball of horrifying proportion.
I feel this film has been overshadowed by the more visual slashers that started just ten years later. This film is everything I want from a Horror. I was terrified, confused and always felt this desperation to protect Rosemary. Her progressive insanity is such an easy thing to feel as it works perfectly at trapping us in the confines of Rosemary’s world. Like any great Horror, it had me questioning reality, wondering just how much of this lives within the head of the protagonist, but it doesn’t really matter because it’s the reality that Rosemary sees.
This film was so viscerally important to me. I’ve found that by exposing myself to more Horror films, that squeamishness has long since gone, with most films doing nothing more than making me feel a little frightened, but Rosemary’s Baby made me feels tortured and disturbed. It’s crazy to me that such a great Horror film could come out of an era still unsure if they were able to take many risks. I almost considered putting The Haunting here, but it’s hard to deny the near-perfection that has become one of my favourite Horror movies of all time.
Other highlights:
Ivan’s Childhood (1962)
Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962)
Masculin Feminin (1966)
PlayTime (1967)
Belle de Jour (1967)
1970’s
We venture into my favourite era of cinema. As I have a particular devotion to this very experimental time in cinematic history, I had more than a handful of films that I took into consideration. I sat upon the idea of writing about one Luis Bunuel’s films; an Italian director I was entirely exposed to in 2022, with The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoise almost making it, but then my eyes glanced past a distinct film, one that I refused to rate based purely on how complex it is. I’m not sure that Andrei Tarkovsky’s Stalker was the best film I watched last year, but it was one of the most inspiring experiences I’ve ever had.
The Russian director has tackled many complicated subject, even back to his first movie in Ivan’s Childhood (narrowly missed the 60’s spot), but I’ve never seen one so vague and interpretable than this masterful work. Presenting a dismal world where only the select few may walk into another realm full of unseen promise, these three characters tread carefully with the promise of something better. You learn so much about them through rich dialogue, learning about them as they learn about each other. It presents many possible ideas and messages that one person’s experience will always be drastically different from others’.
Putting into words what this film did to me is near-impossible. Knowing that the film would be much more artistic and never giving us a straightforward answer for its dilemma, I spent so much time gluing myself to the dialogue. It’s a film that requires that you never miss a beat and soak up every little word and facial expression. It’s slow and strenuous, but you still feel this desire to reach the end. My own interpretation of the film’s subtext was that it presented that same idea of the rich and wealthy standing above the poor. The idea that only a select percentage of people will be able to achieve what they desire felt so specific to that timeless sentiment. On the other hand, I also got the sense that Tarkovsky was dismissing the prospect that you need to put yourself through hell just to gain a bit of happiness, that all that hard work will mean nothing if you’re not happy with yourself.
This is the beauty of Stalker. There is no clear answer, nor does it ever guide you down a specific path, ironic, considering the plot. I wanted to go back to this at a later date to give it a proper ranking, but I simply couldn’t. It is an amazing experience for those who are looking for some more daring movie experiences, but it isn’t something I could recommend to everybody. Even now, I’m still thinking about the film, being too afraid to give it a definitive rating. There are very few films like this. Simply brilliant.
Other highlights:
The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoise (1972)
Pink Flamingos (1972)
F for Fake (1973)
The Phantom of Liberty (1974)
1980’s
When writing this list, I thought that the seventies would be the most difficult decade for me to nail down; I was not prepared for the following decade. I sat and wrestled with my thoughts for a good twenty minutes, arguing with myself over which film I thought was most deserving of the spot. Classic Horror movies like Evil Dead II and The Thing were so close, both being phenomenal Horror films for completely different reasons. I was almost entirely confident in The Thing being my choice. I also considered Predator for its insanely fun presentation, being one of the greatest Action films I’ve ever seen. I even had some oddball choice like When the Wind Blows and Fitzcarraldo, but I finally landed on the Japanese food-Western, Tampopo. There’s a good chance that others would be positively offended over the fact I prioritised this over The Thing, but I did it for just how uniuqe this entire experience was.
I’m not very attached to Westerns, often looking for more unique takes on this long-exhausted genre. Tampopo doesn’t seem like a Western, certainly not at first, but carefully watching the film shows just how closely it follows the genre’s traditions. It takes what we know and switches out a dusty old town, harassed by outlaws into a ramen restaurant that must overcome the owner’s inability to cook. A lone cowboy enters this store, showing her the craft of cooking ramen, intercut with segues of others experiencing food-related joy. This entire film is glistened in the visual salvation of all things food, while also boasting an ensemble of distinct renegades that help the titular Tampopo find her passion.
I’ve never felt a film like this. I’m not exactly the most diverse when it comes to food, being quite a picky eater, but even I can’t deny just how delicious everything looks. We often take food for granted, so Juzo Itami reminds us of just how special such a thing can be. Mixing delicacy with intimacy, this takes a luxury and sexualises it. These small cutaways play around with the food in a shockingly erotic way, contradicting much of the joyously fun tone that makes up the main plot. This is done to make sure you never lose sight of what’s so important to the film: food. Even aside from the theme, the movie uses the backdrop of the Western genre to make us feel more at home in this strangely hypnotic world. The characters are all very likable and memorable, with the lead chef being so indisputably lovable.
I’ve thought about this film a lot. There’s a lot of imagery that will stick in your mind because of how little you would’ve seen it elsewhere. I do think it’s better to go into this blind, but without me talking about it, there aren’t many people I know personally that would’ve even heard of it. That being said, there is a lot in the film I’m keeping at bay. This is one that anyone can jump into, and if you have a food-addicted personality, there’s no better film.
Other highlights:
The Thing (1982)
Fitzcarraldo (1982)
When the Wind Blows (1986)
Predator (1987)
Evil Dead II (1987)
Bird (1988)
1990’s
While my taste in food hasn’t exactly been the most diverse, my taste in film has expanded to all kinds of countries, as is rather evident by the list so far. My biggest regret, however, has been my lack of exposure to films closer to India. Even aside from the more widely known Bollywood industry, I hadn’t dabbled in the more comparable films. This would be my first jump into anything from this area of the world, let alone its home country of Iran, and what an experience. I sat in deep contemplation over which of the two films from the 90’s I wanted to put here, with the other being the breath-taking Before Sunrise, but Taste of Cherry presents something that many films of the era were afraid to touch: depression.
While there have many films that can draw that deep emotion out of you, very few have tackled the complexities of our mental health the same way this film has. Watching a man on his final legs, finding potential players in his attempted suicide is unknowingly looking for someone to stop him. The emotionless acceptance and complicated plan that he wishes to enact contrasts greatly to the severity of the situation. Adding to this complicated ordeal is the religious belief that suicide is a terrible sin. This, and the state of the world around him, has left him in a state of stubbornness that sees no other option. A bold point made in a country that frowns upon such a delicate subject, this is something you have to sit back and take in.
I could compare this to Stalker. This isn’t to compare it thematically, but more from how every little bit of dialogue needs your full attention. It slowly burns into the subject, leaving you unsure what’s going through the protagonist’s head. Once he begins his journey to find somebody who would be willing to help him with his suicide, I began to feel this innate sense of sadness. It isn’t so much for the character as it is that feeling. Many can relate to that state of feeling desperate and done with life. Having been through my own experiences of suicidal thoughts at a darker time in life, I couldn’t take my attention away. The lifeless way he communicates and how he pressures others to enact his request is so poignant. You get these three supporting characters who represent different points in life, all reacting to his request in different ways. By the time we get around to the old man, I desperately wanted a more positive resolution.
Taste of Cherry is a deep, cerebral experience. There’s such a deep understanding of the pain many experience that it makes you feel a sense of relief that we live in a country where we aren’t typically lambasted for the way we feel. It’s a powerful film that left me in slight state of emptiness for a good while, not because I suddenly felt the same depression, but because of how honestly and heavily it made its point. To be open with your own problems and have the slightest bit of comfort from others is so important, and I’ve never quite seen a film that tackles this issue so perfectly.
Other highlights:
Dreams (1990)
Dracula (1992)
Three Colours: Blue (1993)
Three Colours: Red (1994)
The Postman (1994)
Natural Born Killers (1994)
Before Sunrise (1995)
The Blair Witch Project (1999)
Jin-Roh: The Wolf Brigade (1999)
Magnolia (1999)
And far more…
2000’s
You could almost make this a follow-up to my first Cinematic Contemplation: Foreign Cinema, given how this has been a very diverse list of films. Of course, this is for good reason, seeing as so many of the best films I watched last came from other countries. My choice for the 2000’s wasn’t very difficult, with Thai film, Yi Yi being too obvious. I remember buying this film purely based on the fact that I had never heard of it. I often find that these are the best experiences.
This long look at life and mortality isn’t the most comfortable watch. We get looks at the different lives of a single family and their respective troubles. Many of them down on their luck and left with the constant reminder that death is following them with the elderly grandmother lying in sickness. What follows is a fly-on-the-wall look at the family members spanning different ages, with a very young boy at the centre of all the conflict, unaware of just how bad life has gotten for everyone. In a film full of people breaking down in tears as they have no idea what to do, near-affairs and the threat of suicide, it’s surprisingly complimented with a warm sense of humour.
I was surprised by how much I ended up loving this one. From the opening alone, I could tell this was going to be an emotional clencher. Seeing a woman break down in tears would only be the start of characters feeling so desperate that this all they can do. We all contemplate our lives and, from time to time, we think about the day we eventually die. Yi Yi addresses this with such brutal honesty and a guiding hand that swerves them back to the present. As somebody who used to struggle (and still somewhat struggles) with worries about the future, there was so much weight to this combined sadness. This universal worry breaks the language barrier and reminds us that we’re all connected through our humanity.
It is weird to say this film left me feeling happy and content. So much of this movie is constant gut-punch after gut-punch, but it ends with such a sweet and sombre message. It may not compare to something like Taste of Cherry, but it still feels very unique, with an understanding that will continue for years and years to come. Films like this are the reason I love this artform so much; expressionism in its finest form.
Other highlights:
Millennium Actress (2001)
City of God (2002)
Morvern Callar (2002)
Before Sunset (2004)
Dogtooth (2009)
2010’s
Looking back on the previous decade, I had forgotten how much beauty I had managed to glance over when these films had come out. There were stories I could relate to and ones I was shocked to find myself enticed by. There were even a couple documentaries in Nostalgia for the Light and 13th, another genre I rarely dabble in. And while I sat there and considered these films, I couldn’t escape the fascinating beauty of At Eternity’s Gate. Of the two films based on Vincent van Gough that were released that decade, I think many preferred Loving Vincent, and I certainly understand that; it’s brilliant, but for my money, there better of the two goes to this introspective fascination of the man’s being.
This film doesn’t explore the exact details of Vincent’s life, but rather, captures the essence of his creative spirit. A film that speaks to the artist inside of us all, it shows us the sequential symmetry of sadness and art. It places a lens on the oddballs of the world, the ones that speak their minds, regardless of public opinion. The film cleverly shows us the struggle that comes from vocal indifference to the lines of life and the slow journey towards accepting those for who they are. As an impassioned fanatic myself, I was practically intoxicated with this film.
Some of what this film presents may feel redundant. We know much of the legacy behind van Gough, but rarely have I seen a retelling so obsessed with just a part of the man, rather than trying to paint the entire picture. Dafoe, in all his brilliance, brings to life a man internally tormented by his own demons and the sneers of the villagers around him. Much of this film is frantic conversations, moments of spontaneity and violent brush strokes. It’s one thing to appreciate van Gough’s art and to tread over his mental struggles, but it’s another to capture his spirit. I felt this deep connection to everything. I’ve never been any sort of art connoisseur, but the broader world of art is something I am naturally attached to, as are we all.
This is so easy to recommend to people. Besides it being focused on a person everyone is familiar with, it captures a distinct state of being and makes it easy for anyone to understand. There are, perhaps, better movies from this decade, even ones that I have watched, but I can’t help but feel this pull whenever I even considered talking about something else; it’s alluring.
Other highlights:
Four Lions (2010)
Nostalgia for the Light (2010)
Before Midnight (2013)
Philomena (2013)
Ida (2013)
Gone Girl (2014)
The Witch (2015)
A Silent Voice (2016)
Train to Busan (2016)
13th (2016)
Burning (2018)
Happy Watching
There were a lot of films I had to leave behind that pained me to do so. I didn’t have a concrete map of which films I wanted to put on the list, more to just pick the ones I felt the strongest feelings for. Each year, my library films expands more and more, and it’s not something I think I’ll ever stop doing. These films remind me that there are still uncharted waters for me to travel, through all decades and genres. There’ve been a great number of films released in this previous year alone, and I’m already writing through the list as we speak. If you want to see a ranked list of all the new films I watched in 2022, including my favourite film of this decade so far, stay tuned for next week.
Written by Conor Johnson.
Conor's Corner of Criticism 