Hi, folks! Self-promotion isn't usually my thing, but I'd just like to let everybody know that my newest blog Shooting in the Darkis open for business. It's a companion-piece to Shooting Lessons: 1000 Pictures, and concerns my efforts to watch as many films as possible from the They Shoot Pictures list of America's top 250 film noirs.
I don't expect Shooting in the Dark to be updated quite as regularly as this blog, but give me a while and I'll have compiled plenty of reviews from films that you probably wouldn't hear about from anybody else - many of those film noirs are obscure as hell! In fact, I have no idea how I'm going to track them down myself. My first review will be for Delmer Daves' Dark Passage (1947), a dynamic little thriller with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, their third collaboration.
Anyway, be sure to wander over there (click the above link, or the link in my sidebar) and offer your best wishes. Seriously, the blog smells like honeysuckle. How could I have known that awesome film noir blogs could sometimes smell like honeysuckle?
A warm hello to my loyal readers, of which there are – last time I counted – about two, sometimes three. Yesterday, July 21, marked the six month anniversary of the birth of my “Shooting Lessons: 1000 Pictures” blog, and I’d just like to take a few minutes to reflect upon our achievements thus far in the They Shoot Pictures, Don’t They? Top 1000 quest.
When I first welcomed readers to “Shooting Lessons,” I had seen exactly 178 films from the list. I am happy to report that this tally now sits at 224 films, which means that, in the intervening six months, I have enjoyed a total of 46 brand-new titles from the Top 1000. This figure obviously doesn’t include the countless pictures I’ve watched that do not appear on the They Shoot Pictures list, including many very exciting new releases. If you’re interested in any of these films, full reviews for all can be accessed through my IMDb comments.
Additionally, when I began this endeavour, I expressed my intentions that I should complete the TSPDT top 100 within six months. In this case, I was clearly dreaming. Even early on, I decided that it was fruitless to try and force myself to adhere strictly to such a short selection, and so I regularly interspersed my viewings with films from both the entire Top 1000 and whatever else happened to strike my fancy.
The first six months of 2008 (and December 2007) are also notable in that I discovered the bulk of Billy Wilder’s work, and, after 16 films and counting, he has become one of my all-time most cherished directors. Some of Wilder’s unexpected surprises have included the light-hearted and charming Irma La Douce (1963), the tense WWII propaganda picture Five Graves to Cairo (1943) and the first winning teaming of Lemmon and Mathau in The Fortune Cookie (1966).
What do the next six months have in store for “Shooting Lessons: 1000 Pictures?” Certainly I hope for another fifty films to strike themselves off the list, and, after that, I’ll be at the whim of the TSPDT folk when they decide to update their listings – hopefully the revision won’t be too harrowing for me. With a wonderful Ingmar Bergman box-set currently coming my way thanks to Ebay, I can hope to see more of his films. I would also like to branch out more exhaustively into the work of Carol Reed, John Ford, John Huston, Fritz Lang and David Lean.
At this point, enthusiastic encouragements would be most appreciated. Thanks to everybody for their support, and here’s wishing for another half-year of shooting down pictures. Andrew
Animation, perhaps even more than its live-action counterpart, has the incredible ability to draw a viewer entirely into its world, to construct a completely new dimension of reality. Everything you see onscreen is the product of the animators' imaginations, every subtle stroke purposefully conceived and painstakingly brought into existence. Below I've assembled my top ten animated short films of all time. In order to maintain a good variety, I've deliberately included only one film from each director, though additional recommendations are also included for animators whose other work is equally unmissable. Despite my attempts to keep the choices as diversified as possible, a quick browse reveals a ridiculously-evident bias towards the United States and the Soviet Union. I'd like to venture into some Asian animated short films when I get the chance, so, if you've got any recommendations for me, be sure to leave a comment.
Additionally, so that my readers may also enjoy my ten favourite animated shorts, I've included YouTube videos of each of my top ten films (where available). Just click the Read More... button at the bottom of this post. Now let's get to the countdown:
An absurdly-hilarious and strikingly-human tale of the jealousies and infidelities surrounding a beetle marriage, Russian animation pioneer Wladyslaw Starewicz's The Cameraman's Revenge is a delight of early animation, brimming with highly-effective stop-motion puppetry and no shortage of imagination. Mr. and Mrs. Beetle have a completely uneventful marriage, and both yearn for more excitement in their lives. Mr. Beetle's desires can only be satisfied by the beautiful exotic dancer at the "Gay Dragonfly" night club, whom he visits whenever he takes a "business trip" to the city. A fellow admirer of this dancer, an aggressive grasshopper, is jealous that Mr. Beetle has stolen his lady and, as fate would have it, he is also a movie cameraman. The devious grasshopper follows Mr. Beetle and his acquaintance to a hotel room, where he films their exploits through the keyhole. Also recommended from Wladyslaw Starewicz:The Insects’ Christmas (1913)
9) Frank Film Year: 1973; Director: Caroline Mouris, Frank Mouris; Country: USA
When it comes to experimental film-making, I am the worst possible critic. Where others see great beauty and vision, I see pretension and uselessness. Frank Film is my inevitable exception. Over a five-year period, the directors collected a vast volume of magazine clippings, and these are used to animate the visuals. There are two soundtracks: in the first, Frank Mouris continually lists a number of seemingly-random words, and in the second he delivers a personal synopsis of his own life, touching on everything from school-life as a child to his career-choices in college. These two soundtracks play simultaneously, sometimes cutting over each other and occasionally seeming to merge into a single entity. The animation works like an endless stream of the subconscious. As Frank's meandering autobiography turns its attention towards a particular topic, the visuals unleash a gush of related images. For example, as he discusses his endless love for food, we witness a collage of culinary images, each merging into the other, the memory of ten thousand past meals. This is what I like about Frank Film; it is a film that successfully connects with the way that the human memory works, a stream of long-forgotten recollections brought forth by a simple subliminal trigger.
Eduard Nazarov's Zhil-byl pyos is based upon a classic Ukrainian fairytale that told of a dog making friends with a wolf, re-enforcing the age-old wisdom that good is always rewarded by good. When the clumsy and lazy domestic dog (voiced by Georgi Burkov) is banished from his home after neglecting to stop a burglar, he depressingly retreats into the forest and seems as though he is about to hang himself. However, a wheezy old wolf (Armen Dzhigarkhanyan) manages to talk him out of it, and he offers the dog his assistance in reclaiming the love of his family. The following winter, the dog, long ago returned to his home, hears the mournful howls of the wolf, and he follows the sound. He finds the wolf huddled cold, weak and hungry amidst the snow, and so sets about returning the favour that had saved his life previously.
If you’ve ever felt that animated films were designed solely for the enjoyment of children, then you must seek out Suur Tõll, undoubtedly one of the most unusual animated shorts you will ever see. The story was based on an Estonian folk tale about the gigantic hero, Tõll, who lived on the island of Saaremaa (Oesel) in the Baltic Sea. The imagery of Suur Tõll is completely and utterly unique, and I've never seen anything in its style before. There is perhaps nothing technically amazing about the animation itself, but it is presented in such a bizarre form that you must really see to understand. It's difficult to explain, but the images really do give the feeling of epic mythology; a world not quite grounded in reality, and yet strangely entrenched in history. The soundtrack to the film is majestic, compelling and haunting, with the booming chanting of the men often sending a shiver down the spine.
6) Feed the Kitty Year: 1952; Director: Chuck Jones; Country: USA
It’s no easy task to pick out a favourite from the extensive catalogue of animation great Chuck Jones, but this one has always struck me as his most emotionally-involving. Feed the Kitty was the first to feature two of Jones' lesser-known characters – the loving bulldog Marc Antony and the cute little kitten named Pussyfoot. Following a somewhat frictional introduction, the unlikely pair get into all sorts of adventures, particularly when Marc Antony believes his feline friend to have been accidentally blended and baked into cookies by his mistress. The final minutes of the film are very touching, as an anguished Marc Antony watches the blending through blood-shot eyes, the slightest peek causing him to faint on the spot. Also recommended from Chuck Jones:One Froggy Evening (1955); Duck Amuck (1953); What’s Opera, Doc? (1957)
Parmelee's 8-minute cartoon adaptation of Edgar Allen Poe's short story is a faithful, stylish, atmospheric, genuinely-unsettling feat of clever animation, creepy sound effects and an excellent voice-over by James Mason. It tells the story of an insane man who murders his elderly landlord because of his "strange eye" and is driven to madness by the continual hideous beating of the dead man's heart. We never actually see the madman's face, restricted to glimpsing his shadow on the floor and his dirty, gnarled hands. The audience witnesses the events through the warped mind of the murderer, with even ordinary events and objects taking on a surrealistic, twisted, terrifying light.
4) Geri’s Game Year: 1997; Director: Jan Pinkava; Country: USA
There seems to be little remarkable about this four-minute short film from Pixar Studios, in which a senile old man keeps entertained by challenging himself to a game of chess. However, it’s such an incredibly efficient production, presenting its simple but clever premise without the burden of additional sub-plots that would only distract from the two wonderful characters at the film’s heart. I say two characters, but, of course, they are one and the same, and a significant part of the short’s genius is how, in such a limited stretch of time, Jan Pinkava is able to develop each of the old man’s conflicting personalities into fully-fledged personas. Also recommended from Pixar Studios:For the Birds (2000); Lifted (2006).
3) The Old Man and the Sea Year: 1999; Director: Aleksandr Petrov; Country: Russia-Canada-Japan
Based on Ernest Hemingway's 1952 novella of the same name, Aleksandr Petrov's The Old Man and the Sea is a masterpiece, taking a classic story and offering it a beauty that only Petrov could accomplish. Completed over two and a half years, the film was created using paint-on-glass animation, a technique which uses slow-drying pastel oil paints on glass sheets. Running for approximately 20 minutes, the film is comprised of more than 29,000 paintings, each frame a veritable work of art. The film traces the fortunes of an old man named Santiago, who has had a proud, adventure-filled life, and now whittles away his days fishing alone on the ocean, usually without catching anything. On this particular fishing trip, Santiago comes up against a magnificent marlin, which takes the bait but refuses to give in. The old man feels that, despite he and the fish being brothers, it is his duty to kill the marlin, and only in doing so can he prove his worth. Also recommended from Aleksandr Petrov:My Love (2006);Cow (1989).
2) The Old Mill Year: 1937; Director: Wilfred Jackson; Country: USA
This Silly Symphonies short from Walt Disney was essentially a testing-ground for many of the techniques to be used in the upcoming feature-length milestone, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937). Artists experimented with the animation of animals, rain, wind, lightning, ripples, splashes and reflection, and also debuted Disney’s revolutionary multiplane camera. Interestingly, that The Old Mill was basically a trial-run perhaps contributed to its greatness, as, unburdened by any notion of a solid narrative, the film allows the viewer to simply sit back and lose themselves in the atmosphere of nature scene. The loose plot concerns the wildlife inhabitants of an old mill situated in an isolated swamp, whose quiet night is suddenly violently interrupted by a terrifying and immensely-powerful storm that threatens to tear their home apart. Also recommended from the Silly Symphonies series:The Skeleton Dance (1929); Flowers and Trees (1932); The Three Little Pigs (1933).
I’ve raved about this film before, and a recent repeat viewing only strengthened by belief that Yuriy Norshteyn is the finest animator ever to have tread the Earth. Voted as the greatest animated film of all time by the Animation Olympiad in 1984, Tale of Tales is a triumph of heartbreaking animation and emotion. The 30-minute film is comprised of a series of related sequences, each deeply rooted in the history of the Soviet Union, meticulously evoking a time and place that the filmmaker recalled from his own childhood. A haunting visual poem, presented in the fractured manner of a dream, Norshteyn uses various recurring characters – the little girl playing jump-rope with he disheartened bull, the young boy feeding apples to the crows, the suckling baby, the little grey wolf (voiced by Aleksandr Kalyagin) – to recreate the images, sounds and, indeed, even the scents of a saddening chapter in a nation’s history. Also recommended from Yuriy Norshteyn:Hedgehog in the Fog (1975); The Heron and the Crane (1974); The Fox and the Hare (1973)
Remember: click Read More... below if you'd like to see any (or all) of the films of Youtube. Hopefully they're all still accessible. For my #1 choice, it is a necessity that you see the film at night, in a dark room with no interruptions. Now that I've laid down the ground-rules, enjoy!
10) Mest kinematograficheskogo operatora {The Cameraman's Revenge}:
9) Frank Film:
8) Zhil-byl pyos {There was a Dog}: (no subtitles, but my plot description should be enough to get you through it)
I've been trudging my way through the They Shoot Pictures, Don't They? Top 1000 for a few months now, and I'm glad that you've eagerly followed my adventures thus far - yes, I'm talking to you. There's only one of you, so I couldn't possibly be referring to anybody else!
Anyway, just to show that I'm not completely obsessed with this single greatest films list, I've decided to mount a top ten of my favourite films that DO NOT appear on the list at all. There are some rather unconventional choices, to be sure, but rest assured that each of these films means a lot to me. In keeping true to the chronological bias of my source list, I've deliberately excluded any films from 1990 onwards, otherwise I'd be forced to profess my undying love of all things Lord of the Rings... and I'm not yet ready to lose your respect and admiration.
10)Koneko monogatari {The Adventures of Milo and Otis} (1986 / Masanori Hata / Japan)
My only Japanese film on the list: is it a Kurosawa? Is it an Ozu? Is it a Mizoguchi? I'm afraid that you're all a long way off! As a young boy, I had an almost-obsessive love of animals and adventure, and so it should come as no surprise that The Adventures of Milo and Otis was one of my all-time favourite childhood films. Originally a darker Japanese film entitled Koneko monogatari {A Kitten's Story / The Adventures of Chatran}, the extensive 400,000 feet of footage from one-time director Masanori Hata was taken by Columbia Pictures and completely changed, trimmed and Westernised into a touching children's tale. In an adventure entirely devoid of human presence, mischievous feline Milo finds himself swept downriver, with loyal canine pal Otis in hot pursuit, and the pair find themselves faced with the natural beauty and terror of the unfamiliar Japanese wilderness. This film is a genuine treat.
9)The Untouchables (1987 / Brian De Palma/ USA) After years of shamelessly imitating Alfred Hitchcock's film-making style, De Palma finally came into his own, and the railway station shootout in The Untouchables – a respectful homage to Eisenstein's "Odessa Steps" sequence – is a perfect organism of suspense and intrigue, every minute detail absorbed by the audience with a continually-quickening heartbeat. Kevin Costner stars as Agent Eliot Ness, whose dedication towards bringing down arrogant and brutal gangster Al Capone (Robert De Niro) has been constantly thwarted by the corruption rampant throughout the police force. Sean Connery deservedly received the Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his role as Ness' brisk, irritable and racist mentor. As far as gangster pictures not directed by Francis Ford Coppola are concerned, this is about as good as they come.
8)Le Voyage à travers l'impossible {The Impossible Voyage} (1904 / Georges Méliès / France)
Released in 1904, cinematic magician Georges Méliès' The Impossible Voyage often stands in the shadow of the filmmaker's earlier success Le Voyage dans la lune / A Trip to the Moon(1902), which has long-since earned itself the label of a cinematic classic. In many ways, however, this film is the superior of the two, brimming with stunning set and model-work, creative visual effects, an exciting around-the-world journey and no shortage of imagination. Some viewers may find it difficult to accept the film's questionable take on science and logic, but this all adds to the charm of it. Méliès – a master of magician's tricks, puffs of smoke and impossible disappearances – was never concerned with reality, but with transporting his audiences into a world quite unlike their own. In an era where so many directors were neither daring nor imaginative enough to make the impossible happen on screen, Le Voyage à travers l'impossible is the pinnacle of early film-making.
7)Watership Down (1978 / Martin Rosen / UK)
It would have taken a mighty piece of filmmaking to make me forget that I hate rabbits, and yet Watership Down (1978) had me utterly engaged from the opening moments. Not only did I care about Hazel, Fiver and Bigwig, but I genuinely fell in love with them, and for 100 minutes I was completely absorbed in their strenuous but noble struggle for survival. This mature and intelligent animated film unfolds in the English countryside, as a group of estranged rabbits trudge across the rolling hills in search of a new home. In a series of fascinating, and occasionally frightening, episodes, the animals encounter countless predators who would happily make a meal of them - eagles, dogs, cats, humans - but their greatest obstacle lies in the nasty, tyrannical Chief-Rabbit, General Woundwort, a bloated, domineering lump of a villain who is both reminiscent of George Orwell's Napolean and, oddly enough, Orson Welles' Police Captain Hank Quinlan.
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6)Angels with Dirty Faces (1938 / Michael Curtiz / USA)
Angels with Dirty Faces, one of a string of gangster/crime pictures that frequented Hollywood throughout the 1930s, was a film that I really only watched to see Humphrey Bogart playing a bad guy. However, it was the performance of Mr. James Cagney – of whom I'd often heard, but never seen – that truly inspired my admiration, delivering surely one of the most memorable displays of acting ever seen. Two childhood friends (Cagney and Pat O'Brien), via a twisted act of fate, find themselves taking drastically different paths in life; Rocky Sullivan becomes immersed in a life of crime, and his old friend heads towards the Church, from which he tries to prevent the next generation from going astray. Curtiz, despite his occasional tendency to moralise, effortlessly constructs an intense atmosphere around his dynamite cast of characters, and the image of struggling shadows on the wall has never left such an indellible mark.
5)Frau im Mond {Woman in the Moon} (1929 / Fritz Lang / Germany)
Fritz Lang followed his big-budget box-office flop Metropolis (1927) with yet another big-budget box-office flop. Unlike the former, however, the march of time has caused Woman in the Moon to sink almost into obscurity, which is a shame for one of the silent era's most ambitious cinematic projects. When an eccentric scientist predicts the existence of gold on the far side of the Moon, one intrepid entrepreneur plans a rocket journey to find out for himself. However, a small faction of greedy, elite businessmen hears of these plans and hires the slick, slimy-haired mercenary Mr. Turner to gain control of the expedition. The storyline is one of the purest early examples of science-fiction, steeped in crime, corruption and espionage, and, not only are the visual effects extremely impressive, but Lang tried to be as scientifically-accurate as possible. Just try to overlook the breathable Lunar atmosphere!
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4)Die Brücke {The Bridge} (1959 / Bernhard Wicki / West Germany)
When I blindly snatched a VHS copy of this film off the library shelf, I could never have known that I was about to watch one of the most outstanding WWII films ever made, a harrowing, uncompromising tale of the futility of war and the tragic loss of childhood life and innocence. In the closing months of the War, with Germany at its knees, seven idealistic teenagers join the armed forces. In order to spare them certain death, the boys are posted at a small concrete bridge on the outskirts of a small town. This particular crossing is strategically insignificant, and the commanders plan to demolish it as soon as the Americans arrive, but the boys are not privy to this information. When, indeed, the Americans do reach the bridge in a trio of tanks, the seven young recruits launch a full offensive, a tragedy of misguided courage that results in a devastating bloodbath.
3)Obchod na korze {The Shop on Main Street} (1965 / Ján Kadar, Elmar Klos / Czechoslovakia)
The Shop on Main Street is a truly remarkable film, a gentle mix of comedy and tragedy that manages to tug at our heartstrings without ever resorting to unnecessary violence or over-the-top melodrama. It is 1942, and World War Two is in full force. Tono Brtko (Jozef Króner), a poor Aryan carpenter in a Slovak town, is placed in charge of a Jewish button shop on Main Street, where the the old and senile Mrs. Lautmann (Ida Kaminska), who doesn't realise that a war is going on, naturally assumes that Brtko is here as her assistant. Fittingly, the pair received a special mention at the Cannes Film Festival for their acting performances, and the film itself won the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar for Czechoslovakia at the 1966 Academy Awards.
2)Fail-Safe (1964 / Sidney Lumet / USA)
Sidney's Lumet's Cold War-era thriller, Fail-Safe, is, put quite simply, one of the most engaging films I have ever experienced, a masterpiece of paranoia and destruction. During the 1950s and 60s, the possibility of a nuclear war must have seemed a terrifying inevitability, and many filmmakers exploited this fear for maximum effect, though none more effectively than Lumet with this film. Fail-Safe takes a scenario that sounds remarkably like Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove (1964) and, with meticulous patience and a stealthily-mounting sense of dread, builds towards a single devastating climax. The soundtrack screams an indecipherable mishmash of radio static, piercing feedback and human suffering. Never has a film cut so effectively to black. 1)Skazka skazok {Tale of Tales} (1979 / Yuriy Norshteyn / Soviet Union)
In 1984, in an event held in conjunction with the Los Angeles Olympics, the Animation Olympiad jury attempted to recognise the single greatest animated film of all time. Despite a wealth of worthy candidates, one film was ultimately crowned with the grand title: that film, of course, was Tale of Tales. Norshteyn's masterpiece, created with a meticulous animation process for which most animators lack the patience, is a triumph of stunning animation, ambient sound and a stirring classical score. The 30-minute is comprised of a series of related sequences, each metaphorically rooted in the history of the Soviet Union, every frame so breathtakingly beautiful that you can do little but stare in captivation. We're all still waiting on The Overcoat, the feature-length masterpiece on which Norshteyn has been working since 1981.
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What are a few of your own unsung masterpieces? I'd be very interested in hearing from as many people as possible (which means I'll be expecting at least one reply).
Thank you very much to everybody who is reading this introductory welcome to my film blog, an online journal in which I hope to record my exploits in completing the The Shoot Pictures, Don't They? Top 1000 films list, from the perspective of a relative newcomer to cinema. My calculations inform me that, to date, I have only seen a paltry 178 films from the top 1000, a figure that forces me to ask why I even consider myself a film buff! Nevertheless, considering I only took an active interest in cinema nearing the end of 2006, I suppose that it's a respectable enough figure.
Though I understand that the TSPDT Top 1000 is by no means definitive, it probably gives the most accurate representation of any list that I've been able to find. At the very least, even if I'm ultimately unsuccessful in completing my goal, I will have seen a bucketload of great films in the process of failing, and I really couldn't ask for any more than that! My primary goal in the short-term (the next six months or so) will be to complete the TSPDT Top 100, of which I've currently seen 46. The fact that I'm missing five films from the top ten alone (The Rules of the Game, The Searchers, The Seven Samurai, Tokyo Story, Sunrise) is rather embarassing to me, and so they'll be among the first to be crossed off!
Now, for the sake of interest, here are the 178 films from the list that I have already seen and (for the most part) loved:
Citizen Kane Vertigo 2001: A Space Odyssey 8½ Godfather, The Singin' in the Rain Battleship Potemkin Lawrence of Arabia Bicycle Thieves Godfather Part II, The Raging Bull Casablanca City Lights Touch of Evil Third Man, The General, The [1926] Some Like it Hot Psycho [1960] Sunset Blvd. Gold Rush, The Chinatown Magnificent Ambersons, The Taxi Driver Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb Rear Window Seventh Seal, The Night of the Hunter, The Apocalypse Now It's a Wonderful Life M [1931] Modern Times Wild Strawberries Blade Runner North by Northwest Wizard of Oz, The Metropolis Pickpocket Notorious Sherlock Jr. Aguirre: The Wrath of God Double Indemnity Clockwork Orange, A Man with a Movie Camera, The His Girl Friday Nosferatu Broken Blossoms Battle of Algiers, The Duck Soup King Kong [1933] Treasure of the Sierra Madre, The Star Wars Jaws Manhattan Stalker Grapes of Wrath, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, The Umberto D. Annie Hall E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial Shining, The One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest Chien andalou, Un Philadelphia Story, The Once Upon a Time in America Jetée, La Brazil Maltese Falcon, The Pulp Fiction Monsieur Verdoux Paths of Glory Conversation, The Last Laugh, The Exorcist, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, The It Happened One Night Bridge on the River Kwai, The Schindler's List Close Encounters of the Third Kind Rosemary's Baby Birds, The Graduate, The Raiders of the Lost Ark To Kill a Mockingbird Peeping Tom Alien Great Dictator, The Fantasia Awful Truth, The Night of the Living Dead Strangers on a Train All Quiet on the Western Front Navigator, The Fargo Manchurian Candidate, The [1962] Five Easy Pieces Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs Aliens African Queen, The 39 Steps, The Shadow of a Doubt F for Fake Steamboat Bill, Jr. Terminator, The Reservoir Dogs Mr. Smith Goes to Washington Empire Strikes Back, The Top Hat Frankenstein Rebecca Amadeus Midnight Cowboy Cabaret Night and Fog King of Comedy, The Hard Day's Night, A Groundhog Day I Know Where I'm Going! Come and See Silence of the Lambs, The American Graffiti Limelight Faust Full Metal Jacket Back to the Future Invasion of the Body Snatchers [1956] Voyage dans la lune, Le Elephant Man, The Rocky Eraserhead All the President's Men Monty Python and the Holy Grail Alphaville Shawshank Redemption, The Die Hard 12 Angry Men Dog Day Afternoon Killing, The Barton Fink Scarface [1932] Scarface [1983] Blood of a Poet, The Forrest Gump Hana-Bi Lady Vanishes, The Thing from Another World, The Phantom Carriage, The Dead Poets Society Spirited Away Blood Simple Verdict, The [1982] Seven Chances French Connection, The Day the Earth Stood Still, The Miller's Crossing Straw Dogs Edward Scissorhands Stray Dog Ferris Bueller's Day Off Being There Jason and the Argonauts Ghost and Mrs. Muir, The Thin Man, The Purple Rose of Cairo, The Eyes Wide Shut Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory Fight Club In the Heat of the Night Arrivée d'un train à la Ciotat, L' Trial, The Adventures of Prince Achmed, The Woman of Paris, A Broadway Danny Rose Big Lebowski, The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes, The Man in the White Suit, The Rope Knife in the Water
That's 178 down and 822 to go. My first post and review will follow in the next few days. Wish me luck!
Thank you for stumbling upon my film blog, an exciting new journal in which to chronicle my exploits in completing the They Shoot Pictures, Don't They? Top 1000.
Unlike other similar endeavours on the internet (such as Kevin B. Lee's excellent Shooting Down Pictures - from which I obviously derived my blog title), I am merely a novice in terms of film-watching experience, and this offers me an even greater world of cinema that I have yet to enjoy.
I hope you find some interest in my TSPDT Top 1000 travails, and any contributions - recommendations, encouragement, criticisms - would be very much appreciated.
Godzilla (2014)
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In 1954, producer Tomoyuki Tanaka of Toho Studios decided to make a film
that reflected the true horror of the atomic bomb that the japanese people
had e...
Target #66: Fallen Angel (1945, Otto Preminger)
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*Directed by:* Otto Preminger
*Written by:* Marty Holland (novel), Harry Kleiner (writing)
*Starring:* Dana Andrews, Alice Faye, Linda Darnell, Charles Bickf...
Animation: An Optical Poem (1937, Oskar Fischinger)
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An Optical Poem (1937)
*USA, 6 min*
*Directed by: *Oskar Fischinger
The tagline for Disney's *Fantasia (1940)* read: "Hear the pictures! See
the music!" Thi...
Hi, folks!
A warm hello to my loyal readers, of which there are – last time I counted – about two, sometimes three. Yesterday, July 21, marked the six month anniversary of the birth of my “Shooting Lessons: 1000 Pictures” blog, and I’d just like to take a few minutes to reflect upon our achievements thus far in the They Shoot Pictures, Don’t They? Top 1000 quest..jpg)
Additionally, when I began this endeavour, I expressed my intentions that I should complete the TSPDT top 100 within six months. In this case, I was clearly dreaming. Even early on, I decided that it was fruitless to try and force myself to adhere strictly to such a short selection, and so I regularly interspersed my viewings with films from both the entire Top 1000 and whatever else happened to strike my fancy.
My film-watching highlights for the year? At the top of the list is certainly my May 4 cinema viewing of 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), a breathtaking and awe-inspiring film in every sense of the word, and most likely the greatest ever made. Another worthy competitor is my double-bill cinema screening of 
What do the next six months have in store for “Shooting Lessons: 1000 Pictures?” Certainly I hope for another fifty films to strike themselves off the list, and, after that, I’ll be at the whim of the TSPDT folk when they decide to update their listings – hopefully the revision won’t be too harrowing for me. With a wonderful Ingmar Bergman box-set currently coming my way thanks to Ebay, I can hope to see more of his films. I would also like to branch out more exhaustively into the work of Carol Reed, John Ford, John Huston, Fritz Lang and David Lean.
Animation, perhaps even more than its live-action counterpart, has the incredible ability to draw a viewer entirely into its world, to construct a completely new dimension of reality. Everything you see onscreen is the product of the animators' imaginations, every subtle stroke purposefully conceived and painstakingly brought into existence.
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What are a few of your own unsung masterpieces? I'd be very interested in hearing from as many people as possible (which means I'll be expecting at least one reply).
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