#75. Dances With Wolves (1990)

As a general rule, I don’t dislike something until I have learned enough about it to make an educated decision. Because of this I know more about Toby Keith, the CSI Franchise and the Boston Red Sox than you could ever imagine. However, there are some things I just know I won’t like from the word “go” no matter how much I try to open my mind to them. “Dances with Wolves” was always a movie I knew I wouldn’t like, and it didn’t disappoint me (or did depending on how you look at it).

Kevin Costner plays Lt. John Dunbar, a humble and quite unintentional hero (not unlike his roles in “Field of Dreams” and “Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves” not that I am saying Kevin Costner lacks dimension, but I digress) who rallies his fellow Union troops and inadvertently motivates them to attack a group of Confederates with whom they are at a combat stalemate when he attempts to get close enough to have them kill him. As a result of his botched suicide attempt, Dunbar is given his choice of duty station and asks to be relocated to a post out in the Dakotas. His rationale is that he wants to “see the frontier before it is gone” which is a commendable attitude for military man to have at such an embryonic stage of the Western Expansion. It is the mindset I think most of us have once hindsight is factored in, but it is unrealistic and just comes across as corny even though I know it was meant to be eerily prophetic.

As Dunbar travels west with his guide a voice-over narration begins which is really where the whole thing starts to fall apart. The monotone and drab narration seems very appropriate as we are under the belief that Dunbar is keeping a copious log of his activities for use in a possible military text or field manual. In this case sterile and impersonal dialogue is the only way it would be able to work as such things are done in a very cut-and-dry, black and white way. However as soon as Dunbar begins making jokes and interjecting personal thoughts and observations it is obvious that he is keeping a journal- suddenly the narration becomes absurd to the point of laughable.

After some tense encounters with his neighbors, a tribe of Sioux Indians, Dunbar discovers one of the tribeswomen slashing her wrists. He takes her back to her people and, once it is understood that he means to help, groundwork is finally laid for peaceful communication to begin. The woman he rescued, Stands With a Fist is actually a white woman by birth who was kidnapped by a tribe of Pawnee before being rescued and taken in by the Sioux, particularly the tribe’s Holy Man Kicking Bird, whose judge of character indicates early on that Dunbar is a friend. The love story subplot becomes almost insulting as it becomes “understood” that the two must wind up together because they are both white, even though the theme of the film seems to be the bridging of cultural divide. Perhaps Dunbar relates to her since they have now both attempted suicide, but the lesson comes across as an obligation to stay within your own race romantically. Oh and before I forget, does Dunbar SERIOUSLY write “I love Stands With a Fist” IN HIS DIARY?!?! Honestly, someone thought making him a high-school girl would be a good idea?

Progress is slow but the tribe begins to accept Dunbar and eventually even welcome him as one of their own and is even given the tribal name Dances With Wolves as he is spotted by Kicking Bird playing with Two Socks, his pet wolf. Before long he knows the language, speaks with the elders and provides them with weapons from the seemingly abandoned Army post he is supposed to be guarding to fight off their rival Pawnee. Race relations and demolishing cultural barriers are probably the issues closest to my heart, but when it is unrealistic and syrupy it almost comes across as more offensive and racist than not bridging the racial divide at all, as is the case with the friendship between Dunbar and Wind In His Hair, the tribe’s most fierce warrior. The hostility between them evaporates so fast that it is completely unrealistic and hard to swallow and becomes even more so when we learn that Stands with A Fist’s dead husband (her grief was what drove her to attempt suicide) was Wind In His Hair’s best friend, but now he accepts both Dunbar and his relationship with Stands With A Fist. What could be viewed as a touching gesture of peace between he and Dunbar winds up looking more like Wind In His Hair’s loyalty can be won over in exchange for some guns.

Another disturbing element of this film is the offensive naiveté the tribe is depicted as having. Though they suspect there will be more American troops coming from the East to continue the westward expansion, they allow their fears to be assuaged by Dunbar’s reassurances that this will not be so, though he even says in his little pink diary with the hearts and iCarly stickers on it that he knows they will come and wipe the Sioux out. Finally he admits to Kicking Bird that there will be many white men coming and they will all be hostile- rather than questioning Dunbar’s 180-degree turn in his story, it is just quietly and sadly accepted. When the soldiers finally do come they begin systematically killing everything Dunbar holds dear- his horse, his pet wolf and presumably his adoptive family. Dunbar is arrested and loaded up for transport to be tried for treason but is freed when the Sioux attack the convoy and rescue him, making him a fugitive and spelling almost certain doom for the rest of the tribe.

It was at this point that my disdain became rage. I was able to see that this film was a transparent rip off of a really bad 80's movie called "Enemy Mine." Yes the concept of finding community in a culture other than your own is nowhere near a new idea, but this film borders on plagerism. There is even once scene that was directly lifted where one of the soldiers attempts to steal a talisman hanging around Dunbar's neck which violently snaps him out of a near-coma. The same thing is depicted in "Enemy Mine" with the exact same results and the exact same camera angle. I couldn't believe my eyes- the only reason I can give for Costner stealing from such a terrible movie was the hope that nobody would notice because nobody saw it.

”The white man the soldiers are looking for no longer exists. Now there is only a Sioux named Dances With Wolves” (Ten Bears, “Dances With Wolves)

The same issue I took with the ending of “American Graffiti” happens again here- the epilogue that condenses the next several years of history and just leaves you saying “that’s it?” By doing so, Kevin Costner again misses a prime opportunity to make a real impactful plea for cultural understanding by glossing over the activity that would soon follow. There is something to be said for assuming we all know how bad it was but truth be told, I don’t think a lot of people do. Plus the Sioux characters are not given any real depth or personality, which leaves us feeling detached from them which makes it hard for the average viewer to really become emotionally involved or saddened by their ultimate demise.

“Dances With Wolves” had good intentions, but it is one of those efforts that carries the ball all the way to the one-yard line then ends up fumbling. It comes up short in its focus, it comes up short in its appeal to emotions, it comes up WAY short in its acting and most of all it comes up short in its efforts to show the depth of the beauty, honor and values of the Native American people. One thing I can say for it though is that it contains some of the most gorgeous cinematography I’ve ever seen. It’s a shame really because the power of the outdoor plains shots could have been used as a brilliant directorial tool to help advance the story but instead it winds up serving the same purpose as special effects- it banks on the fact that it will distract you from the shortcomings of the story.

#76 City Lights (1931)

Whenever I hear someone praise the ending of movies like “Lost in Translation” or “The Sixth Sense” I just roll my eyes and think to myself “Charlie Chaplin did it 70 years ago jackass.” Not that the main character turned out to be dead or that the girl whispered something we can’t hear (even though it IS a silent movie so we DEFINITELY don’t hear what she said) but rather the swerve ending as well as the open-for-interpretation conclusion.

Since I can’t talk about the end of “City Lights” without talking about the rest of it I will summarize. Charlie Chaplin again reprises his role as The Little Tramp in what may arguably be his most ingenious melding of comedy and drama. His first post-depression era movie made the concepts of plight and poverty far more relatable to the mass public than in any of his previous work, though the separation of the classes is the only consistent theme in his films. From the opening scene where an extravagant statue is unveiled before a crowd of onlookers only to reveal The Little Tramp asleep in the lap of the nobleman depicted (tons of symbolism in that shot that I don’t even need to explain) viewers were given some comic relief in a scenario that was actually becoming commonplace in society as opposed to just a humorous caricature of Dickensian street life that Americans had previously thought of as something reserved for far-away shores or in a different time.

It is also no coincidence that “City Lights” is the first of Chaplin’s movies in an urban setting that actually looks like America. Before the Great Depression his films meticulously recreated the British industrial cities of his youth. It is hard for a movie to hit close to home in the country where it is most widely released when you see a Workhouse or a Tea-and-Eels café. The streets are crowded and busy rather than dreary and deserted; it is on one of these crowded streets that The Tramp meets a pretty blind girl selling flowers. The sounds of a chauffeur and a car door slamming after her initial encounter with The Tramp leaves the girl assuming that The Tramp must be one of the lucky ones who the Depression didn’t reach.

Later that same evening, The Tramp stumbles upon a drunk, recently divorced millionaire who is attempting suicide by tying himself to a boulder and casting it into a river. Since this is still supposed to be a slapstick comedy, The Tramp’s efforts to save him are repaid with circumstances like having the boulder dropped on his foot and ending up in the water himself. He does manage to convince the man that he shouldn’t kill himself, which is done in brilliant pantomime with accompanying string music and the millionaire shows his gratitude by lavishing The Tramp with food, alcohol, money and even his Rolls Royce. Unfortunately the man has no recollection of his interaction with The Tramp when sober, yet at night once he is sauced again the two are BFF, which leads to especially hilarious misunderstandings when he catches The Tramp driving his car, and even more awkwardly when they two wake up together.

”Don’t give up! Face life! Tomorrow, the birds will sing” (The Little Tramp, “City Lights”

Ever the selfless hero, The Tramp is always very quick to use the money gifted to him to pay the flower girl’s rent or buy her food. Because of this, the girl continues to assume he is wealthy, and though he never attempts to correct this misconception he also never actually tells her that he is in fact homeless himself. While this could be perceived as shady in many cases, one must consider the fact that the girl would not take his charity if she knew the truth.

On one of his visits with the flower girl The Tramp notices a headline that a Viennese doctor has discovered a cure for her type of blindness. Though the doctor is willing to provide the surgery for free the patient must come to him in Vienna in order to receive it. The Tramp finds himself desperate to come up with the money of his own volition, as he has been unable to find his millionaire friend for some time. Hilarity ensues as The Tramp finds himself shoveling elephant crap and attempting to participate in a rigged boxing match. When he finally runs into the millionaire just in the nick of time, his priorities are different. His only focus is obtaining the money for the girl, even to the point of turning down food and drink. Eventually, he is mistaken for a thief and taken to jail for several months- but not before delivering the money to the flower girl.

The film concludes with The Tramp being harassed by some young street kids. It is obvious that his circumstances have somehow gotten even worse. He is messier, his clothes are more threadbare and he is no longer a happy-go-lucky homeless man, but a shattered and angry wreck of a man. From inside a shop window, two women laugh hysterically at the degradation of The Tramp. Finally, out of sheer pity one of the women attempts to offer him a handout. Not only has the flower girl regained her sight, but has clearly prospered due to her new lease on life at the hands of The Tramp. Upon recognizing her, The Tramp attempts to avoid her, humiliated with his situation, but she forcefully grabs his hand to place the money in it. The girl touches his hand, then begins to reach up his arm and to his chest and face- feeling the familiarity as her secret benefactor we see every possible emotion blanket her face; shock, fear, pity, disgust and a slight touch of happiness, but mostly the other things.

There is a tiny bit of very awkward dialogue between the two and the girl’s final words of “yes, I can see now” not only express so much, but also leave so much room for interpretation. She sees now that her impression of the man she loved is not like she imagined, she sees how much he has sacrificed for her, she sees that she has been lied to in a roundabout way but also that he never took advantage of her and that what he did for her was done with no expectation of thanks or repayment. The screen fades to black with absolutely no resolution or closure- we are as uncertain as to what happens as the girl is as to how she should feel.

There are so many things to love about “City Lights.” The comedic elements are rarer than in earlier Chaplin films, but given the seriousness of the subject matter they are much funnier. The segment where The Tramp believes he is going into a boxing match that will be an easy way to make some money and winds up getting his ass kicked are not only hilarious but balletic as the two opponents constantly move in opposite directions attempting to pursue each other, with an overzealous referee getting in the way the entire time. I mentioned earlier the significance of the attempted suicide scene, which manages the unenviable task of finding humor in one of the darkest possible places while still not making light of it. And then there is that ending again I keep waxing idiotic about.

I know this sounds bizarre, but next time you have a date night do yourself a favor and WATCH "CITY LIGHTS!" There are few movies that will please the guy as much as the girl (or the people who play the guy and girl role if that’s your thing) as this one. It’s a little bit Three Stooges, a little bit Drew Barrymore and 100% epic f’ing WIN!

#77. American Graffiti (1973)

I have always had the belief that really bad movies have excellent soundtracks. It is true of "Armageddon" it is true of "A Knight's Tale" and it is true of "Dirty Dancing." In fact, it seems that in most cases, the better a soundtrack is the worse the film attached to it is. "American Graffiti" has one of the best soundtracks I have ever heard. Take that however you want to...

Actually, it's not that "American Graffiti" is a terrible movie, it's just not a very deep one. If you check your brain at the door and understand that you are watching a piece of fluff then it's really not too bad.

Set in Southern California, the film follows a group of recent high school graduates who are, for the most part, heading off to college the next day. As the larger group splits into smaller factions the movie follows the (mis)adventures of the gang. Like every other "coming-of-age" type film, there is the obligatory nerd (Toad) tough-guy-who-goes-by-his-last-name (Milner), the head cheerleader (Laurie) and the sensitive guy who is kind of the group's de-facto-leader (Curt, played by Richard Dreyfuss). Their various paths lead them on conquests as crazy as seeking love advice from DJ Wolfman Jack, cruising with an annoying jailbait girl, quasi-stalking an older woman, getting mixed up in one of those crazy hot-rod street races and Toad's quest to presumably lose his virginity. Yeah, all the cliches are there, though, in "American Graffiti"'s defense it presumably started these trends rather than borrowed them, so rather than calling George Lucas a copycat we wind up blaming George Lucas for subjecting us to movies like "The Goonies" and "Sixteen Candles."

I would liken watching "American Graffiti" to watching pro-wrestling: you have to suspend disbelief in order to buy a lot of the movie. You have to assume that a cool car is enough to get a misfit laid or that such a diverse group could ever be friends. But one thing that I refuse to accept with this movie is that I am expected to believe that Richard Dreyfuss- complete with his receding hairline and deep Richard Dreyfuss narrator voice- is supposed to be an 18 year old kid. Also, Cindy "Laverne and Shirley" Williams is very unbelievable as someone who is either young or a virgin.

"I like the color of your car there, man. What's that supposed to be? Sort of a cross between piss yellow and puke green?" (Bob Falfa "American Graffiti)

Normally, I am very critical of movies that are completely lacking in character development, however in "American Graffiti" it actually works and benefits the film. Since the movie takes place over the course of about 12 hours how much character development can there be? It would insult the viewer's intelligence for there to have been some significant overnight changes in any of these people. For all the bad things I can say about this movie, I can commend the real-time plot advancement and the simplicity of the main characters. So many high-school'ish movies try to instill more wisdom and insight into young lead characters than would really exist.

Another praise-worthy element of the narrative of this movie lies in the frequently jumping vignettes. These characters are all, for the most part, shallow and annoying. Thus we can spend a few minutes with them, laugh at their circumstances and be done with them for a little while as we check in on another set of people. Also, since each scene is segued very cleverly with a classic oldies song, the flow of the storyline is that much more creative, sort of like switching gears on a car, or changing the channel on a radio. I also like that there is a sort of "home base" for everyone, the setting of course being the stereotypical 50's/60's diner- it serves as the backdrop for the plot just like that era is the backdrop of the film itself.

One dramatic tool that I have always felt was a cop-out is the concept of the epilogue. A movie ends abruptly then a voice-over or an onscreen script tells us what happened to everyone. This is like taking someone from Point A to Point Z but leaving out the entire rest of the alphabet and the way it is done in "American Graffiti" is very unsatisfying. As if its not bad enough that they don't fill in the blanks, they take it one step further in this film by throwing in the cliche' of the rebel gets killed in the car accident.

I will probably never watch "American Graffiti" again, but that doesn't mean it was anywhere near as bad as I expected it to be. It is a simple period piece that doesn't pretend to be anything more than that. It is in this simplicity and honesty that the real appeal is able to come through. If it weren't for the sham of an ending I think I would have been able to appreciate this movie a lot more. By mentioning the deaths of both Milner and Toad (in Vietnam) George Lucas briefly flirts with the notion of implying a loss of innocence or a forcing to grow up, but he doesn't quite close the deal.

#78. Rocky (1976)

While there may or may not be such a thing as the perfect movie, there are definitely perfect circumstances surrounding a movie- there may be no better evidence of this point than "Rocky."

Everything from the movie's low budget to the timing of its release equated to a perfect storm of film-making. Despite what the franchise would eventually become, I think people tend to lose sight of how credible and artistically/culturally significant the first "Rocky" movie was.

A self-described "ham and egger" boxer in Philadelphia, Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone) works primarily as a hired goon for a small-time loan shark Tony Gazzo but still believes he may be able to make something of himself as a prizefighter. He is strangely fascinated with his best friend Paulie's reclusive sister Adrian (Talia Shire) and pursues her every day with little success. Meanwhile, world heavyweight boxing champion Apollo Creed (Carl Weathers, in the best Muhammad Ali impression ever put on film) is looking for an opponent for his big New Year's Day 1976 main event, which Creed has been marketing all along as a huge bicentennial match, as his original opponent has a broken hand.

Knowing that there is nobody active in the sport who would be a marketable name, he decides to change the focus to a gimmick match where he gives an unknown fighter a title shot. Despite the pleas of his handlers, Creed decides on Rocky, ignoring the alleged Southpaw Curse (inherent fear that left-handed boxers are too difficult to read) and instead focusing on the marquee value of "Apollo Creed Vs. The Italian Stallion." All the while, Rocky and Adrian's relationship finally begins to take shape once the challenge is issued- another sign that things are looking up for Rocky.

The first time we see Rocky outside of the boxing ring he is talking to his pet turtles, not the way normal pet owners talk to their animals, but as equals- more evidence to the fact that Rocky is so terribly lonely rather than him being punch-drunk or weird. It is this isolation that establishes him as a good guy in a bad situation rather than just a goon.

Loneliness and isolation is a character trait that runs through most all of the main characters in the movie- Adrian, as we find out, has never had a boyfriend prior to Rocky and has a co-dependant relationship with Paulie, who, while he blames his obligation to take care of Adrian, knows deep down that this is not the case. Even Rocky's trainer/manager Mickey, a gruff old-time boxer from the 20's forms an oddly paternal relationship with Rocky, for reasons that at first seem selfish but are later revealed to be a product of vicarious living, which not only speaks to his personality but also sets the stage for the significant amount of character development that occurs over the 5 week period in which the movie takes place.

Nowhere is the change in a character more evident than in Adrian. By being the first man to ever notice her, let alone make her feel special, Rocky completely liberates Adrian. She is able to stand up to Paulie, speak for herself and openly show affection for Rocky. The beginning of this transformation begins on Adrian and Rocky's first date, which culminates with her seeing Rocky's apartment for the first time, which is another form of cinematic beauty all its own.

Had "Rocky" been a big-budget movie, the presentation of Rocky's apartment would have taken on a contrived and over-the-top feeling. You see it all the time with Hollywood films; poverty has to be spelled out to an almost Dickensian obviousness. Rather than a modestly furnished apartment the place would either have been bare or strewn with junk, the beat up couch would have springs and coils coming out of it, his refrigerator would be shown as either empty or full of old junk food and God only knows what his bathroom would look like. Rather, due to the film's modest budget, the apartment is made modest and thus appears lived in by a real person instead of theatrically run-down.

"You gotta be a moron... you gotta be a MORON to wanna be a fighter" (Rocky Balboa, "Rocky")

The most important part about "Rocky" being a low-budget film lies in the photography itself. Without top-notch cameras and lighting the film looks grainy, gritty and a little dirty- which transports you into the slums of Philadelphia without even being self-aware. The absence of cranes and rolling cameras gives the movie a bare-bones and unglamourous feel, the only way it could have worked. One other element that gives the characters a sense of being real is the use of repetitive language. Rocky loves to use the word "absolutely," and Gazzo frequently says "You don't think I hear things?" This is done in such a delicate way that it never comes across as cheesy catch-phrases, but rather speech patterns we observe in everyone. Little nuances in their vocabulary and words they use more than others- we all know those people.

In addition to the awesome training montages which I have to believe raised the bar for all other music montages to come later, the training sequences themselves are very telling. We see Rocky busting his ass and performing amazing feats while there is never a single second of footage showing Apollo Creed preparing for the fight anywhere other than on the marketing end of things. As a result, we get a much more believable feeling that this fight really can go 15 rounds and end in a split decision- Creed didn't prepare for a fight that should be a give-away.

After all is said and done, the most fascinating thing about "Rocky" is the fact that it was a textbook case of art imitating life and vice-versa. Sylvester Stallone was a nobody when he wrote this movie and defied all the studio expectations and predictions of the film failing because it didn't have a well-known lead and still it won the Oscar for Best Picture that year. It is inspiring, optimistic and charming despite the misconception that it is a movie about boxing.

More to the point- it has inspired over 30 years of out-of-shape tourists to run up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art for over 30 years!

#79. The Deer Hunter (1978)

There are movies out there more disturbing than "The Deer Hunter." Of course they are snuff-films and scat-porn.

Set in rural Pennsylvania in the mid-1960's, the film begins by showing us the close relationship between a group of steelworkers, 3 of which are getting ready to leave for Vietnam with one, Steven, getting married presumably mere days before they ship out. There is some dark foreshadowing of things to come (a theme that will become very prevalent as the movie progresses) when a recently returned soldier shows up at the VFW where the wedding is being held. The men ask him what they can expect and he responds with a bitter and curt "fuck it" which they take as him blowing them off, totally unaware as to what is in store for them.

Another one of the men, Nick (played by young Christopher Walken) professes his love for Linda, one of the bridesmaids (an even younger Meryl Streep) and the two commit to get married as soon as he comes back. This wedding sequence is a good and interesting way to get us all acquainted with the characters and their personalities, though the scene itself goes on for far too long, the same objective could have been accomplished sans a couple of the lengthy dances.

One last trip to the mountains for a deer hunt, the group's favorite pastime, reveals that quiet and pensive Michael (Robert DeNiro) is the leader as he is the most responsible and intelligent. We also learn that Michael is closest with Nick, as the two confide several things to each other, including Nick's fear that he will be left behind in combat- another brilliant if not obvious use of foreshadowing.

"Every time he comes up, he's got no knife, he's got no jacket, he's got no pants, he's got no boots. All he's got is that stupid gun he carries around like John Wayne." (Michael Vronsky, "The Deer Hunter")

With absolutely no warning the movie suddenly jumps to the middle of a heated battle in Vietnam. Michael, Nick and Steven are captured by the NVA and imprisoned along with several Southern Vietnamese. As a form of torture, the Viet Cong force the POW's to play Russian Roulette for their amusement. The use of Russian Roulette is an obvious metaphor for so many things; the risk involved in war, the "accidental" form of suicide that ensues from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and even the value people of different philosophies place on human life. During one of these disturbing games, Michael orchestrates an escape plan, turning the roulette gun on one of the captors, disarming him and blasting their way to freedom. As they float aimlessly downriver a transport chopper spots them and rescues Nick but Michael stays with Steven who has broken both legs.

Some time later, Nick wanders into an underground club where a French gambler offers to make him rich if he agrees to participate in competitive Russian Roulette. Nick is so badly wrecked from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and so psychologically damaged over worrying about the fate of his friends that he accepts the man's offer without a second thought. As it turns out Michael is also in the same building but the two never see each other.

As abruptly as the Vietnam segment begins it ends as Michael returns home from the war. He avoids his friends, ducks his Welcome Home party, checks into a motel and spends the night battling flashbacks and night terrors before finally going to see Linda. After they both confirm they haven't heard anything about Nick they quietly accept the fact that he is probably dead. After many months of awkwardness and isolation, they finally succumb to their loneliness and begin a relationship.

Michael slowly begins to readjust to life back home, but when he attempts to go on his first deer hunt since returning we see just how badly the war has affected him. When he comes practically face-to-face with an incredibly large buck, he struggles with his ability to kill the creature, and eventually fires an almost point-blank warning shot to scare it off and let it go. It is through this incredibly subtle yet telling action that we start to see the true importance of "The Deer Hunter." Many war movies before and since have shown the short term impact of war, the immediate carnage. But this film takes it an unprecedented step further by showing the permanent after-effects. While talking with friends after the failed hunt, Michael learns that Steven has been home the whole time Michael has been back but he won't see or talk to anyone. Michael finally tracks him down; he is a double-amputee living in a Veteran's Hospital, refusing to discharge himself to live with his wife.

Steven reveals to Micahel that he is receiving huge sums of cash in the mail from an unknown benefactor in Saigon. Micahel suddenly realizes that Nick must not only be alive, but competing in the horrific "sport" of Russian Roulette that Michael witnessed in the club the night he and Nick almost crossed paths. Utterly devastated that he has inadvertently allowed Nick's biggest fear, being left behind, to come to pass- he frantically rushes to Vietnam vowing to bring Nick home. When he arrives Michael learns the only way he can get close enough to Nick to confront him is to buy his way into the competition. Across the table from each other Michael tries despearately to get Nick to come home, though Nick is so far gone he has no recollection of his friend or his life back home and he insists the game continue in what leads to one of the most climactic, gutting and utterly shocking cinematic moments of all time.

As dark and dreary as the subject matter is "The Deer Hunter" is riddled with artistic beauty. The sudden jumps from Pennsylvania to Vietnam back to Pennsylvania clearly illustrate a defined first, second and third act, an absolute necessity for any truly theatrical tragedy. The repeated use of foreshadowing is identifiable enough to where you know that's what it is, but not so clear that it gives anything specific away. From Michael's repeated hunting mantra of the importance of what "one shot" can do to a close-up during the wedding sequence of Steven spilling the wine from his goblet during a traditional toast meant to bring good luck to the bride and groom, the use of foreshadowing serves one vital purpose: to help prepare the audience for things to come.

I spoke earlier of the importance of showing what war does to people, but this film takes it to a whole new level. One thing though that I thought was conspicuously absent was any kind of depiction of the mistreatment returning veterans experienced back home. While I understand this couldn't have been explored too deeply without taking the narrative off course it still would have been nice to see in a film that broke all kinds of taboos as far as it's honesty in dealing with war.

While I don't know how intentional it was on the part of the director "The Deer Hunter" does a phenomenal job of bridging the classes. By showing men who are inherently, almost stereotypically blue collar doing very blue collar things (working in a steel mill, hunting, going to war) the film uses a remarkable amount of artistic elements previously only seen in hoitie-toitie opera, theater and classical music.

The most unique and commendable thing about "The Deer Hunter" is the level of intensity. The point-of-view shots that alternate between the Russian Roulette combatants makes you feel uncomfortably close to the events being shown. I literally held my breath, cringed and subsequently exhaled every time a chamber came up empty, or audibly gasped when one of the men falls to the ground dead.

I would not recommend "The Deer Hunter" for everyone, but at the same time I think anyone who passes on it would be robbed of an experience that would give them an almost incomparable level of understanding of other people's struggles.

#80. The Wild Bunch (1969)

I keep wanting to like westerns. I can get into almost any kind of movie and above all have enjoyed discovering I really love movies I expected to hate as I move through this list. I want to love one of these these films so bad and they just keep making it so damn hard!

"The Wild Bunch" had the potential to really pull me in. There is a really interesting metaphor played out during the opening credits as some kids feed a scorpion to a colony of ants- which to me suggested that if a bunch of underdogs pull together with a common goal, they can overtake a seemingly insurmountable opponent. This combined with the eerily silent build up to the robbery-gone-wrong that leads to an intense and awesome gunfight scene REALLY sucked me in... until it started to just suck.

Even after the robbery is thwarted, even after the group of desperadoes finds out their big score is actually a bag full of washers, even after Pike, the leader of the group played by the amazing William Holden pulls the group back together after some internal squabbles, the gang the film focuses on shows no real likable qualities or even interesting ones. Though they speak of loyalty to each other and codes of honor, they seemingly have none. During the opening robbery scene the group leaves one of their own men behind, not just any man, the grandson of one of their allies, making him think he is just covering for them but knowing all along he is just distracting the authorities while they escape. There is even an exchange where they wind up sarcastically debating whether or not they should provide a dead gang member with a burial, which is dismissed as foolish. However, all the while they continue to posture as some sort of band of brothers.

"I don't know a damn thing, except I either lead this bunch, or end it right now!" (Pike Bishop, "The Wild Bunch")

The leader of the deputized gang out to get the Wild Bunch is Pike's former friend, Deke Thornton, who not only wants to collect the bounty on the gang, but also has more at stake as he is an ex-con who risks going back to prison in Yuma if he doesn't succeed. Though he is working for the law, even Deke illustrates the backstabbing traits every character seems to have.

Pike and his closest partner Dutch are (Spoiler alert)getting too old for this game- gee, I've never seen THAT theme in a western before this one *wink wink* and have plans on one last big score that they can retire on. They strike up a deal with the Federales to hijack a military shipment of guns n' ammo, sell it to them and be on their way. The subplot involves the obligatory minority in the gang (another played-out western film contrivance- in this case, a Mexican outlaw named Angel) agreeing to sacrifice his share of the score in exchange for a small fraction of the weapons to go to his village to defend themselves, ironically from the same people they are delivering the guns to. Even Pike, who does still seem to have some honor identifies himself as a shifty bloke as well when Angel questions the morality of arming the people who killed his family. Pike's crass response is "$10,000 cuts a lot of family ties."

With Deke hot on their trail the gang piles one shady deed on top of another as they leave behind a trail of debauchery and general throw-under-the-bus-ery. So much so that Dutch freely hands over Angel to the Federales. It is this deed and it's aftermath that lead to the most half-assed redemption effort I've ever committed to film. The Bunch decides to march into certain death in an effort to rescue Angel from the Mexican General, despite the fact that they have already let him be tortured and drug by a car to near-death for several days. The final gun battle which might even be cooler than the opening one bookends an otherwise sub par movie.

I understand the principle of having anti-heroes as protagonists in films, as I have said before, flawed humans are far more believable and likable than cheesily perfect good guys. However in the case of "The Wild Bunch" there are just too many negative qualities for us to care about them. Their whole new degree of bastardness puts them on the same level as the typical henchmen/goons who work for the main antagonist in any other film- thus they are not only unlikeable, but uninteresting.

The slight physical resemblance between Pike and Deke, their similar names and the overly frequent jump-editing in this film makes it hard to tell at times as to which one of them we are watching when a new scene starts. Had it not been SO obvious this would have been a good directorial tool; illustrating the closeness that remains between the men and showing how evenly matched they are. Instead it is just frustrating and a little confusing.

In keeping with the old adage "save the best for last" I am now going to delve into the good aspects of "The Wild Bunch" that I can truly appreciate. The gunfights are gory and intense, a far cry from the westerns and for that matter any kind of movie that depicted a violent action, of the times- instead opting to show sanitized and unrealistic accounts of death. "The Wild Bunch" put that production tactic in a pine-box and set the tone for movies as diverse as "Braveheart" to "The Texas Chainsaw Massacare." That's all.

No, that wasn't my thoughtless and lazy way of writing a summary paragraph, I literally mean that's all as far as good things I can say about this film.

#81. Modern Times (1936)

They say silence speaks louder than words. In the case of “Modern Times” truer words have never been spoken.

Nine years after Al Jolson introduced the talking motion picture, Charlie Chaplin was still protesting the medium while also protesting the age of industry in this film. Chaplin, ever the opportunist, still had his eye on the world’s market (by which I mean the global market, not the cheesy store where you buy wicker elephants) rather than just the English speaking parts and held out as long as he could on making a talking picture. He continued making silent pictures for over 13 years after everyone else had switched over to sound, and looking back, thank God he did. “Modern Times” would not have been the same movie it was had dialogue been added.

The film begins with blatant imagery of sheep being herded and fading into humans pushing their way out of a subway tunnel on the way to work. That is about as tame as the comparisons get. Next, we are shown Chaplin’s “Little Tramp” character working on a random assembly line tightening widget bolts on a conveyor belt. The tediousness of the work begins to impact his psyche, as he is still making the tightening motion when he goes on his break or attempts to eat. The factory owner, who bears a non-coincidental resemblance to Henry Ford is so focused on abundance at the cost of the worker’s sanity that he even entertains the notion of implementing a feeding machine that crudely shoves food into the employee’s mouths as they work, thus eliminating the need for a lunch hour. Not only is this one of the most comical sequences in the film, but also illustrates just how bad things were pre-OSHA.

It is also no accident that Chaplin did insert a small amount of talking for this part of the film alone, the owner of the factory is able to shout at employees and bark orders via-closed circuit TV. The insistence that only the wealthy and powerful have a voice in modern society is not lost on any moderately intelligent viewer.

After suffering a nervous breakdown due to the redundancy of his job, the Tramp returns from the psych ward jobless in the midst of the Great Depression. Not only does this development advance the story, but it is also very telling of the times. There was no kind of protection in place for people who became debilitated by their work and instead they were basically thrown out on the street, literally and figuratively.

The next “gag” in the movie takes square aim at the poorly prioritized sentiments at the time as well as incorporates elements of Chaplin’s real life struggles with the Communist witch hunts. As he is wandering aimlessly, the Tramp sees a red construction flag fall off of a truck. Attempting to do a good deed and return the flag to the driver he begins chasing the truck and waving the flag in hopes of getting his attention. As humorous misfortune would have it, a parade of pro-Communist protestors rounds the corner a few steps behind him. Charlie is mistaken for their leader and is subsequently jailed as a Communist sympathizer, which quietly serves the comedic purpose of pointing out the irony of someone being jailed for their beliefs in a NON-Communist country.

While in prison, the Tramp accidentally gets high off smuggled cocaine and thwarts an attempted jailbreak in the process and is pardoned and released, despite his protests that he is happy and comfortable in jail. The prison sequence features two comedic routines that are decades ahead of their time. First, the Tramp’s cellmate is depicted as a burly and manly bully- yet he is doing needlepoint angrily on the bed as Charlie looks on in horror, proving that you can imply a gay prison rape joke without having to mention dropping the soap. The second being the entire cocaine scene- showing a comical result of drug ingestion blazed (pun VERY much intended) the trail for films like “Reefer Madness” and the Cheech and Chong series… though I forgive Chaplin for accidentally unleashing this on the world.

Now if you don’t know anything about Charlie Chaplin’s personal life, this next part of the narrative might shock/horrify or confuse you- people like me just accept it as a quirk. He meets a 16 year old orphan who has escaped from child welfare workers and subsequently becomes his love interest. This character is played by Charlie Chaplin’s real-life teenaged third wife. The two move into a shanty and live as good a life as they can under the circumstances while focusing on the goal of finding work and living in domestic, suburban bliss.

”I’ll do it! I’ll get us a home, even if I have to work for it!” (The Little Tramp, “Modern Times”

Just when things start looking up, The Tramp and the girl are forced to become fugitives as child protection services are hot on their trail looking to keep her in custody. Following a brief moment of despair, the Tramp pep-talks the girl into finding the courage to move on in the face of adversity. The relative creepiness of the ending is belied by the beauty and emotion of it, as the Tramp and the girl head down the road together in search of, well, anything. The contrived and stereotypical “walking off into the sunset” is given a positive and encouraging twist as we watch the two side-by-side moving toward the horizon.

“Modern Times” not only was a scathing social commentary, but more importantly it was a beacon of hope for Depression-era Americans. I don’t know if it was good timing or if the end of the Depression was in sight, but not long after it’s release, the United States began to turn the corner. It was as if Chaplin’s motivational speech (on title cards of course) energized a nation. After almost a decade of abysmal prospects, people needed to laugh again. Specifically, they needed to laugh at what had happened to them. Had Chaplin not been able to find some humor in the darkest of times, and had he not illustrated the extreme levels of despair that had not yet come to pass, there may have been many more suicides in the late 30’s.

Rarely do I get to use the expression that a movie may have saved lives, but “Modern Times” makes a strong case for having done so.