A-List: Desert Island Top Five
By Josh Spiegel
September 17, 2009
BoxOfficeProphets.com
To be fair, the first four movies that are listed this week are my four favorite films of all time. The fifth is something of a wild card, a movie that barely eked out the spot, beating other favorites of mine, including 2001's The Royal Tenenbaums, Memento, last year's epic hit The Dark Knight, the Marx Brothers classic comedy Duck Soup, and North By Northwest, which is arguably the most slickly entertaining film Alfred Hitchcock was ever a part of. Of course, I'm not saying that my fifth pick is any better than those films (I'd probably try and work my way so I'd get a sixth or seventh film on that desert island), but it is a movie I couldn't live without.
A list like this shouldn't need too much explanation; moreover, though you may send feedback that excoriates me for one or another choice, you can't convince me that, for example, a certain animated film about smart, humanistc toys isn't one of the best animated films of all time. Feel free to bombard me on this one, but I'm willing to stand up for these choices (and granted, I doubt any of them will shock you or cause a lot of controversy). With that in mind, here's this week's A-List.
The Shawshank Redemption
Yes, this prison drama, so oft-played on TNT and TBS, is my all-time favorite film. Yes, this same film appeared in last week's Comfort Films A-List. How do I explain the magic and power of this film, so strongly rooted in a belief of hope, an idealistic view which recently propelled a majority of this country to vote in its first African-American President? It's hard for me to explain why The Shawshank Redemption hits me hard every time I watch it. It's hard for me to explain why it comes so easy to glory in the vignettes that pepper this film, from Andy Dufresne basking in the hot sun as his fellow inmates enjoy a cold beer on the top of a recently tarred roof, or Red and Andy playing chess in the yard. It's easy, though, to recall the exact moment where the movie finally, truly gets me.
It's in the film's final 20 minutes, as Andy escapes his physical and mental prison, and uses a pinup poster of Rita Hayworth, rocks, and a tiny hammer to get out of Shawshank Prison. As he exits the film, for the most part, we're left with Red, as he inadvertently gets an unexpected parole and follows the mythos of his best friend to a secluded tree somewhere in Maine, all the way to Zihuatenejo. Watching this sequence, seeing Morgan Freeman amble along the road to the tree, seeing the fear in his eyes at possibly being spied on for taking Andy's last gift; there is an inexplicable joy I get from this scene, which at first seems out of place because it finally puts Red center stage. By the time Red says the memorable line, "Get busy living or get busy dying. That's Gdamn right", I smile as he does, and I hope as he does that he will not only find his friend in good spirits, but that their friendship will live on.
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
The first time I saw the 1975 comedy Monty Python and the Holy Grail", I had a fleeting awareness of the famous comedy troupe. I was in summer camp, preparing to perform the classic Dead Parrot sketch, in which one man brings a recently purchased and deceased parrot to the pet store clerk who sold it to him and has to convince the clerk that the parrot is dead to begin with. One of the other campers asked if I'd seen Holy Grail; when I said I hadn't, she told me I had to see it, and I had to see it immediately. That night, I rented the film and spent the next 90 minutes laughing so hard, I was crying. I had never imagined such silliness as the scene where King Arthur does battle with the Black Knight, so courageous that he doesn't mind losing an arm.
I had rarely seen wordplay as deft as when the patriarch of a swampy castle has to explain in no uncertain terms to two daft guards that they need to keep an eye on his roving son. The taunting Frenchman, the killer rabbit, and even the dreaded five questions - three, sir! - three questions one must answer to cross the Bridge of Death; all was not only hilarious the first time around, but the second, third, and the many other times I've watched this movie. I have had the pleasure of watching this film with my wife, my parents, and even a theater full of Python idolizers, some even dressed as the film's characters, quoting the film as it played to them. Monty Python and the Holy Grail isn't just my favorite comedy, but probably one of the best of all time.
Toy Story
It's hard to tell you why 1995's Toy Story, the first film from Pixar Animation Studios, is the best from John Lasseter and his bunch of wildly creative artists. Most days, I'll tell you that my favorite overall Pixar film is Ratatouille, closely followed by WALL-E and Up. But for its introduction to some truly beloved characters, the beginning of a new style of animation, an iconic song, and sharp, witty dialogue, I can't ignore Toy Story. It's the shortest film from Pixar, clocking in at 81 minutes with end credits, but in terms of concise storytelling and character development, there's nothing lost. The story you must know by this point, especially with the third film in the trilogy coming next summer. Woody and Buzz start as enemies vying for their owner's attention and end as best friends. But, then again, saving each other's lives does that to you.
I was just turning 11 the summer Toy Story came out, and it was an unforgettable experience; the idea of toys coming to life made so much sense, and with actors as strong as Tom Hanks and Tim Allen as the leads, the movie works from the get-go. What works now is the screenplay, funny without being condescending, filled with more pathos and emotion than most mainstream films, and as conventionally happy as an unconventional film can get. There are real gems of dialogue here ("Wait a minute, I just lit a rocket. Rockets explode!"), but the real surprise may be seeing that cult favorite Joss Whedon, he of Buffy and Dollhouse, is one of the film's co-writers. Who knows how responsible he is for the great dialogue, but the movie is, I'm sure, better for his having been on board. Toy Story was just the beginning for Pixar, but it was a classic from the first instant.
Singin' In The Rain
Here it is, the greatest movie musical ever made. All that's happened since Singin' In The Rain, a 1952 favorite of mine, is just spinning wheels. Sure, there have been good musicals since, but no other movie encapsulates all that's great about Hollywood, all that's great about movies, and all that's wrong with both in 105 minutes. Set at the beginning of the talkie era in Hollywood, the movie is about a charming dancer-turned-actor (Gene Kelly) who falls in love with a dancing girl (Debbie Reynolds) and ends up spearheading an all-new movie format: the musical. What stands out here is the humor. Even in the iconic title number, there's something to smile at, something to chuckle at. Then, there's the show-stopping early number by Cosmo Brown (Donald O'Connor) called "Make ‘Em Laugh".
Not every second of the film is funny; it's a bit of a risk to stop your movie in the third act for a 14-minute ballet scene that takes place completely in a fevered imagination. Of course, even that has its charms, as we watch Kelly go from dorky hoofer to slick star. Also of note is the Academy Award-nominated performance from Jean Hagen, who plays Lina Lamont, our lead's main foil, his on-screen female lead whose voice is like nails on a chalkboard and whose mentality is just as obnoxious. Frankly, if you haven't seen Singin' In The Rain, I don't know what you're waiting for. Even if you're no fan of musicals, this is the film for you; you'll be grinning within minutes, or else your heart is made of stone.
There Will Be Blood
From singing to milkshakes we go. I surprised myself a bit with this pick, but as time has passed since this film's 2007 release, I've become more and more assured of the belief that There Will Be Blood, which initially stood out for the towering lead performance from Daniel Day-Lewis, is the best film of the 21st century. No other film has felt as thought-provoking, as comfortably imperfect, as epic, as important as this one. When I first saw the film, I remember knowing that I loved it and that it would make a great film to analyze in the future. Rarely does a movie come out these days that you wonder would make a good film to look back on in years. The story, about the rise and fall of an oil tycoon who comes into direct and forceful contact with a shrill preacher, is filled with intriguing parallels between fathers and sons, and siblings, too.
What gets me about the film now isn't so much Day-Lewis' performance; I'm not saying he's not marvelous here, because he most certainly is (the look on his face right after the man posing as his long-lost brother reveals the truth is more frightening than any horror movie's cheap scares). However, the Academy Award-winning cinematography, the haunting music, the supporting performances, the craziness of the final sequence, the solitude of the opening sequence, and all else has stuck out. Yes, most people just remember "I drink your milkshake!", but what of the lead character's mocking the preacher for being some kind of afterbirth after his smarter twin brother was born? What of Daniel's frustration about his own family, about his own life? If I had to be stuck on that desert island, There Will Be Blood would be the movie that I pored over for as much time as I had.