My Favorite Movies

Some great films, Gone with the Wind, Lawrence of Arabia and the likes, contains far-reaching backdrops and epic scope, but "12 Angry Men" only revolved around a low brow jury room, yet it's also one of the best films ever made. The main reason for its acclaim is the solid acting, great direction, and its unforgettable characters, which exposed the hardest part of the jury's job: forming a verdict. "12 Angry Men" is the most solid proof that "epic" does not mean "great" or "classic", its all about the characters and the writing.

A bravura film directed by master filmmaker Stanley Kubrick. The scene when Bowman was sucked into the vortex left me breathless.

A very brilliant film about the trials and tribulations that directors faces, and the moral dilemmas and confusions that accompanies it. One can't help but to compare Fellini to his underground counterpart, Alejandro Jodorowsky, both using surrealistic touches to their films to achieve certain effect. But Jodorowsky's use of the medium is very extreme and it reaches the level of "absurdity", but Fellini used it with great dedication to his film's story and maintained the beauty of it. The opening scene was very beautiful and weird, but it does summarizes what the whole film is all about, watch it for yourself. The film's ending at last showed the film's protagonist a sense of redemption, as he realized all of his past mistakes, and succesfully balanced his life. This is not an easy film to watch, but it is very rewarding once you do, trust me. "8 1/2" is both an artistic and cinematic achievement.

A brilliant film about the consequences of violence, one of Kubrick's finest work. McDowell shines as delinquent Alex DeLarge.

Arguably Kinski's best performance, and Herzog's best film. It is a story of a doomed journey to El Dorado and the mad man that led it, Don Lope de Aguirre

An observing masterpiece about man's real place in the universe, and also about the simple, unconditional love of a child to his/her parents. It could have been very interesting for this to be finished by Kubrick himself, but Spielberg hit all the right notes and made maybe his most reflective film without any explosions. Another sci-fi film with a heart that transcends emotions. Haley Joel Osment's performance was unbelievable, possibly the best performance of a child in a film that I've seen.

The film was released in 1930, but its everlasting anti-war message endures the test of time and is still relevant today. The concluding shot will surely make you cry.

Only 5 minutes into the film, I liked it instantly, an hour later, I found the film to be very charming, funny, and still a little bit in touch with the weird side. As the film ended, I casually loved every single second of it, and only a few films can give an audience such a warm, loving cinematic embrace. Weird enough, I had seen Jeunet's more serious, sepia-toned "A Very Long Engagement" before "Amelie", which have given me what to expect from his varied style of directing. Audrey Tatou, which I have only known before as Sophie Neveu in "The Da Vinci Code" has given a great, engrossing performance as Amelie Poulain, a character that I can describe as a more optimistic, hope-driven version of Lars Von Trier's protagonists. I also like to commend Jean-Pierre Jeunet's transformation of Paris into some sort of a magical place, where dreams hover in mid-air, and love always waiting in every corner. Yet, with that Disney-like description, "Amelie" is, in some ways, a mischievous comedy enclosed in the confines of a very colorful dream, which produced such a wonderful result. Amelie Poulain, a naive young woman longing to help many people, stumbles upon love, and found much, much more.

Before I had the chance to watch this film, I was first welcomed to Inarritu's works on "Babel", which is pretty much the same in style with "Amores Perros", but deals with a different subject matter. The three seemingly random but somehow connected stories of people are interrelated by a car crash. The best of the three stories is the first one, while the second one, which many found very redundant and unnecessary, was also very engaging. The final part is the most emotional of the bunch, and as if all the characters' filtered emotions are collected by "El Chivo", which is very evident in his climactic emotional outburst in his daughter's room. Gael Garcia Bernal's performance was very good and realistic, removing all his childish playfulness in "Y Tu Mama Tambien". Emilio Echevarria gave the best performance in this epic film, playing a very complicated, and almost an ambiguous character in the beginning, and as the story progresses, we learned more about him and learned to sympathize with him, a character which I doubt that can be portrayed better by any Hollywood mainstream actors today. In terms of visual and music, it is almost indistinguishable with "Babel", but the inner messages of both films are very different, but very relevant for a person's life. The car crash, for me, was not meant to be taken literally, but instead, it was a metaphor for a person's devotion for love, because as depicted throughout the film, love is like a car crash, even though how painful and brutal it is, we must recover, recover, and recover, but after all, well, love's a bitch.

In between the lines of the "against all odds" romance lies one of the most extreme portrayals of racial prejudice(implied as being heightened by the Munich Olympics Massacre), very much ironic to Fassbinder's minimalist treatment. We have just discussed all about "social stigma"(or informal sanction) inflicted to those breaking the norms of society in our Sociology class, and I was quite surprised at how relevant this film was to that particular course of mine. And although "Ali: Fear Eats the Soul" is a realist picture in the literal sense, director Fassbinder has able to insert some auteur touches, those of which has benefit the film much and gave it a more artistic, almost hypnotic edge, departing from the common "raw" feel being applied to majority of realist films. Brigitte Mira gave a very heartfelt performance as Emmi, the woman aged by time and blinded by love. Her evocative moments of melancholic stares perfectly accompanies the long, hanging shots incorporated by Fassbinder. "Ali: Fear Eats the Soul" treads the soil of realism all throughout its duration, but the eponymous characters' collapse near the end may very well be the companion interpretation of the title, resulted not by some health complications, but an implication of the vermin-like gossiping and hypocrisy that plagued his relationship with Emmi. Just like almost all films of the German New Wave movement, "Ali: Fear Eats the Soul" is a mirror reflecting society, but one in very much danger of shattering.

Very different from the role he played in the earlier Billy Wilder classic "Some Like it Hot", Jack Lemmon had shown in this film his pure comedic genius, and at the same time, a great emotional depth that sometimes even reaches comic melancholia. Many people who have seen the film often state that the 60's corporate culture implied in the film was very dated, but for me, it did not aged a bit, because even though the "yuppie" culture has ignited its entirety in the 80's, "The Apartment" has able to capture that certain feel. Lemmon's love interest, Shirley Maclaine, also gave a great performance, and so was Fred MacMurray and Jack Kruschen, who played roles only pure-talented character actors with genuine grasp of the material can pull off. Jack Lemmon's character, C.C. Baxter, is an insurance company employee, and the film ironically suggested that even though insurance policies can cover the costs of physical injuries, nothing but true, unconditional love can pay up for a broken heart. Early romantic comedy at its best.

The best war film of all time, Apocalypse now shows man's journey into the heart of darkness. This film's dream-like quality is mesmerizing, at the same time, horrific. Coppola's best film.

Last year, I did not like Sean Penn that much, primarily because he nabbed the Oscar, which I thought should have belonged to Mickey Rourke. But after that, I watched many of his films, from "Mystic River" to "We're No Angels", with "Dead Man Walking" being his best film. It is, until I saw this very brilliant film. Penn, being one of the best "chameleon" actors in Hollywood, has once again dissolved into Sam Bicke, completely personifying the character with stark realism and brutal inner turmoil. The first half of the film shows him as a normal person, but because of his estrangement to his family, thinks of himself as an outsider, forever casting himself out of the beach we call world. "The Assassination of Richard Nixon" is one of cinema's greats in terms of character study, and though it received a rating that is not very exceptional today, I put my trust that someday, this film would emerge in a classic status it richly deserves. I thought Sean Penn was great in "Milk", good in "Mystic River"(but Tim Robbins was better), but "The Assassination of Richard Nixon" showcases him at his very darn best.

A very masterful, but yet very depressing film by veteran master filmmaker Sidney Lumet. Philip Seymour Hoffman and Ethan Hawke's performances are stunning, breath-taking, and hard to watch, because you can see the pain they're going through because of the botched robbery. The unique back-and-forth narrative structure was great, and its just a great display of swift editing. For those who are looking for an average thriller, I'm sorry, but this film is very rough compared to the stereotypes, not because of the violence, but because of the very dark relationship of the family involved on the tragedy, just that alone makes the film very hard to watch, unbearable, but yet there is a strange beauty in it that it is impossible to look away from it(no, I'm not talking about Marisa Tomei's nude scenes). The ending reminds me of (SPOILER) One flew over the Cuckoo's nest, but the only difference is the emotional content of both sequences, but in my opinion, the final scene in this picture is much more shocking and disturbing compared to the latter Milos Forman classic. "Before the Devil Knows you're Dead" is amazing and well made, especially for an 84 year-old director.

It was puzzling to see "Being John Malkovich" categorized only as fantasy and comedy on IMDb, because for me, this is a pure human drama, with characters on the verge of romantic despair and self-crises. This film tackles a wide range of themes such as post-modern thinking, existentialist views, and the strange redefinition of love. All of these revolves around a person's mind: That of actor John Malkovich. This is one of those films that belongs to the "love it or hate it" category, and I, for one, belonged to the first, but to those stucked in the limbo of middle ground, give it another try, it really requires multiple viewings to savor all the philosophy, humor, and uniqueness encapsulated in this film. A big mistake for the Academy to not nominate John Malkovich, it could have marked the first time an actor was given an Oscar nod playing himself...well not exactly.

A highly deserving best picture winner, with unforgettably poignant performances by the three leads: Fredric March, Dana Andrews, and Harold Russell(a real-life WWII amputee). And though the two(March and Russell) won the Oscars, it was Dana Andrews' emotionally penetrating, yet still charming performance as Fred that was ultimately left in my mind. "The Best Years of our Lives" is not an anti-war film, yet it shows the deep psychological effects of the war, with strands of high optimism. The three main characters went home as soldiers honored as heroes, but as it all wore off, they're prisoners on an unwanted paroles. But through all the emotional uneasiness, they all eventually found the way to turn an alien world feel like home again. A grand tribute to all the veterans of the great war, not for their belligerent acts on the battlefield, but the reality of their lives after it. "The Best Years of Our Lives" is certainly one of the great films of our times.

Definitely up there with "2001: A Space Odyssey" as one of the best science fiction films ever. Harrison Ford, known mainly as the straight leading man/action hero, gave maybe his best performance to date, filling his character with ambiguities and puzzling humanity. The visuals is, of course, top-notch, doing wonders with lights as what "The Third Man" has done with shadows. Aside from being a great sci-fi film,. "Blade Runner" can also be seen as a visual experience alone, and even if you remove the plot, you still have an artistic piece. The one particular sequence I really admire was (SPOILERS!) when Deckard shot Zhora the replicant two times in the back. Her fall and collision through endless glasses was visual poetry at its best.

A mark of a great sci-fi or any other films in any genre is a great creation of its own universe, and although confined in the screens, would not resist and grab the audience and let him/ her explore it himself, that's what "Brazil" is. "Brazil is a moody film, sometimes showing uncommon beauty, but more frequently a sardonic nightmare. All the themes and deep explanations regarding the film are endless and can only be caught after several more viewings, but as a film-goer wanting to give the film a first try, just watch it for what it is, and enjoy the ride. Yes, apart from it being a heavily surrealist film, it is an entertaining one, containing en exhilirating performance by Jonathan Pryce, whose knack for physical comedy was just amazing. Terry Gilliam has since left his good old Monty Python days, but little subtle sketches can still be seen here, which added to the delight of viewing it. "Brazil" can evoke different feelings from the viewer, whether it is awe, disgust, amazement, or shock, only one thing can be left engraved to the mind: That this is a great film by any means. If one would want to see Terry Gilliam at his freshest and most unique, this is it, his best film in his career.

Bill Murray's talent of giving a character a sense of internal turmoil physically shown in his subtle facial expressions was used to masterful effect in "Lost in Translation". And here in Jim Jarmusch's equally great "Broken Flowers", Murray used this distinct trait into more heightened emotional implosions, all displayed in his weary eyes. The pink color motif recurring throughout the film was the eponymous "Broken Flowers". If one would notice, fragments of the said color were scattered around the film, and though its significance would not be much noticed in a straightforward viewing of the film, these color fragments represent Don Johnston's(Murray) life's ultimate harmony, and this can be accomplished by his main goal of finding his supposed son. All the women in his past that he has met in his spontaneous road trip has some of those pink shades, but none of them were completely enshrouded by the said color, because his(Johnston) search wasn't complete, and his goal still in tatters. In the end, in one of the film's most poignant scenes, he helplessly chases a kid who he believes to be his own, but was unsuccessful. And the main point of the film came from this very moment with a sudden punch: Johnston's journey wasn't about the goal after all, it was the reflective in-between encounters, and the whole new way it has changed his perception of his existence. But what we all see in the final shot was Don Johnston's confused, melancholic face, with the "could have would have should have" thing running in his mind.

Almost a rehash of "Goodfellas", Scorsese's more successful film. The style was also the same, but the meaty and compelling story will glue you to your seats until the end. DeNiro and Pesci, as always, are incredible, but the most surprising performance in the film is Sharon Stone. Beware, the final scene is very hard to watch.

A third viewing (or fourth perhaps).

Reading my old "City of God" review once more (a very short one at that), I can still visualize and feel through the praising adjectives that I've previously used (such as 'breathless', 'brilliant' and 'powerful'), the extreme awe and cinematic revelation that I have witnessed. And even after all those years when my copy of the film rested somewhere inside the bowels of my black CD wallet, popping it back once again in the DVD player reignites a personal film experience quite unprecedented. And watching it once more, although like visually revisiting a chaotic moral hellhole, proves one thing: its power, both from its narrative drive and its despicable yet richly molded characters, is purely inexhaustible.

As the knife appears out of the initial blackness and creates contact with the chopping block in the film's raw and frantic opening scene that shows the eponymous place's abundant disorder, we suddenly see a doomed chicken which suddenly broke free of a cook's hands and inspires a hood chase. The scene, shot as if drifting between carelessness and control, may simply look like a vignette-like slip-in to expose the life in the ironically named slums, but it is particularly vital for the film. In its entirety, with its non-linear progress, we eagerly anticipate the film's highs and lows as the protagonist Buscape (Rocket), played by Alexandre Rodrigues, narrates the brief but violent history of the place.

In a way, the film's narration is a cinematic comfort. It is a re-assurance, delivered both in a conversational glib and half poetics, that what we see on-screen isn't just witnessed by the fourth wall population that we are. Of course, it's adventurously insightful to see a film created out of a 'fly on the wall' perspective, but like De Niro's Sam Rothstein in Scorsese's "Casino", we need a distinct personality to somehow filter everything that occurs. And even though Buscape is neither special nor participatory in the film's crucial events, he is our bridge that leads us into the gang-overtaken, drug-financed urban mutation that is the 'Cidade de Deus' and the ever-investigative world of journalism (considering that he is an aspiring maverick photographer).

Analogically speaking, he is our Virgil into Ze' Pequeno's (Lil' Ze') (award-worthily played by non-actor Leandro Firmino) 'Inferno', and in this hell, there's no fires and brimstone but guns, trigger-happy fingers and lots of drugs. Now, for it being set in a repugnant slums and it being based on a true story, I think it's expected for those who still haven't seen the film to mention "uber realism" as its primary visual preference. But with its clever, stylish and fast-paced usage of flashback transitions and montages that are usually accompanied by percussive musics, it has elevated the film from being an excellently written crime film into a truly unforgettable representation of a modern masterpiece. One that shows violence through close range, observant eyes and redemption through distant but hopeful ones.

'Join in or die out'. that may ultimately be the clockwork maxim that runs through Lil' Ze' and other hoods' minds, but for Buscape' and, to a certain extent, Benny (Lil' Ze's best friend, played by Phelipe Haagensen), there's something in it for 'or', and it is worth a try.

"City of God", pitch-perfectly directed by Fernando Meirelles (who also directed the great "The Constant Gardener" and the quite abysmal "Blindness") and Katia Lund, does not condescend to the harsh realities of living the life of illegalities and crime. It criticizes, exposes and sometimes even understands, but it never looked upon the 'Cidade de Deus'' extreme alternative of a lifestyle with a fully raised eyebrow. I think the film concedes to its existence but never the pertinence of escape. With that, "City of God", albeit a transgressive facade, provides a slight relief.

As Giuseppe Tornatore himself stated, "Cinema Paradiso" is an obituary to the old-time moviegoing audiences and the theaters that once brought joy and endless wonders to them. Unlike other films dealing with epilogues of certain themes (such as Clint Eastwood's "Unforgiven"), "Cinema Paradiso" offers an optimistic farewell, of course not without tears. And through the magic of the movies we meet two people, Alfredo the projectionist and Toto, the aspiring one. Their father-son-like friendship grows through the years, until Toto went away and became a filmmaker. The rhythm of the film is like that of Fellini's "8 1/2", although "Paradiso" is more frequent in the flashbacks. In the end, they all wept, as (SPOILERS!) the theater was finally demolished, and as Alfredo said, do not remember any Nostalgia, life must go on. But once in a while, it is unbearable not to look back at certain memories: childhood, first kiss, moments of embarassment, friends, because these things are the foundation of our spirits and our motivation to move on.

Before our film industry has turned into the mainstream disappointment that it has been today, masters like Ishmael Bernal strengthen the industry's foundations, not by big-budget films that boasts of colorful, shallow nationalism, but supported its pillars with critical bravery, exploring the themes, subjects, and immoralities in a time of modernistic bondage of expressive sovereignty(Marcos era). I've always conditioned my mind that "Maynila: Sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag"is the best film to ever portray the eponymous capital of the Philippines. But witnessing this work for the first time, it has altered my perception of the Lino Brocka classic, and at the same time, "City After Dark", for me, has immediately entered the realms of being one of the "definitive" Filipino films at its highest auteuristic control. But do not get me wrong, "Maynila: Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag" offered an unforgettably painful look of the city from the eyes of, putting it bluntly, an alienated 'promdi'. It's a film that steers raw emotions, and at times slipping into melodrama, but "City After Dark" may have been the opposite; it explores apathy in the midst of moral decadence. There's moments in this film where the characters asks each other artificial questions like "Do you really love me?", or "Will you really marry me?". they're not honest queries, but merely asked so to pass the time. And though same questions may have come from sincere hearts, it's beyond their grasp. Manila's too busy a city to provide secure answers.

I do not know, but words certainly can't describe the brilliance of this film by genius Charles Chaplin. And "City Lights" also contains arguably the most hilarious sequence ever filmed: The Boxing match. I cannot believe how a film of 80 years of age can still tickle the funny bones of our generation. And the ending is a beauty, filled with heartbreak and pathos.

A very existential, and sentimental film with a great actor in the lead, in the perfect form of the late Paul Newman, a perfectly subtle performance to a very timeless prison tale. From Luke's first appearance, you can see it in his eyes that he is destined to be an iconic character. The genuine relationship between the prisoners gave an authentic feel to an otherwise cinematic surroundings. The Oscar-winning performance by George Kennedy was pure gold, as he really showed the pure friendship between him and Luke without the usual cliches. Expect many uplifting scenes with hidden religious imageries, with a very inspiring ending despite of a very offbeat and depressing climax. It was also very fun to see Dennis Hopper in a bit role as Babalugats. "Cool Hand Luke" is, in my honest opinion, one of the best films ever made, with one of the best performances by an actor, RIP Mr. Paul Newman, you will truly be missed.

Claustrophobic and tense, "Das Boot" is an epic human study of survival set in the less-explored battlefields of the great second world war: the vast nothingness of the oceans. We know the stories of war zones: Stalingrad, Iwo Jima, Normandy. All has been said about those places: heroism, tragedy, casualties, you name it. But then there lies, beneath the watery abyss, the untold lives and existence of U-boat crews, the tension, anticipation, disappointments, camaraderie. Who would have surmised that a film out of these would be conceived? And even more so, the Germans, the much-dreaded stereotypical villains of the war genre, as chief protagonists? Director Wolfgang Petersen broke the boundaries of the genre and presented the said race not as ideological ethnocentric monsters, but as vulnerable individuals that still cowers on the face of imminent danger. Jurgen Prochnow was unforgettable as the U-boat's captain, having the required experience and strength of character for such position, but still mentally encapsulated by endless insecurities and anxiety about the military hardware and capabilities of the Nazi regime. There were sequences of supreme technicalities always obligatory on the war genre, but ultimately surpassing it and boasts not of the loud explosions and hard clashing of metals, but its brilliant foreshadowing of tension, its perfect balanced criss-cross between the narrow, sweaty confines of the U-boats' interior, and the turbulent expanse of the perilous waters. Some complain about its long running time, but I think its the right approach to the film: To thoroughly maintain the distress throughout the film, bombard audiences' senses with relentless suspense, and create a credible bond and affection between the characters. Adolf Hitler is on his podium, reciting reasons of the Aryan race's supremacy and yelling preposterous ideologies. But deep down the unforgiving bowels of the seas, lies the men to whom the world he promised; disillusioned, desperate, and hungry for home, they don't care about global conquest, they just need the 'silent run' and the 'surface'.

Allegorical film that depicts the moral decay of 1930's Hollywood. Donald Sutherland gave an unusual performance as Homer Simpson. The epic, horrifying climax is the true highlight of the picture, one of the best sequences of cinema ever filmed. Masterpiece.

Very, very underrated piece of cinema with two great artists (that would be Sarandon and Penn) together in one of their best performances in their respective careers. There is not much of a story to bother in this film, but instead we are pulled by an unseemingly invisible force from the film to let us focus on the two main protagonists and their awkward relationship. Sean Penn has slowly became one of my favorite actors, because he proved us audiences that he can completely vanish into a specific role, be it a retarded man, a man with a bum ticker, or a gay rights activist, and his performance here is certainly not an exception. While Susan Sarandon, who won an Oscar for his performance in this picture, started up slow early in this film, but as it progresses, she gave stunning, unflinching scenes after another, making it almost unbearable even for us audiences to watch her flawless outflow of emotions throughout the duration of this amazing film. The climactic scene is very depressing, frightening, but poetic in a way, combined with the beautiful background music. Tim Robbins did a great job as a director, and its undeniable he will get an Oscar nod for his work. "Dead Man Walking" is an underrated gem, and a proof that performances is what films is all bout, 2nd to the story, of course.

Stripped off of all the cinematic gloss and melodrama of "Infernal Affairs", "The Departed" is much more raw and pulsating in its delivery compared to the said Hong Kong original, and also more entertaining in its step-by-step revelation and thrills. Headlined by an all-star cast, particularly by Matt Damon and Leonardo DiCaprio (evidently showing how a Hollywood pretty boy before can convincingly pull off a hardened and at the same time conflicted character) and with the film itself fully enhanced with a much extensively realistic and sometimes spontaneously comic screenplay, it's a Best Picture Oscar well-deserved. And don't get me started about Martin Scorsese's best director win merely being an overdue honor for his legendary film career and not for his individual merit for this film. It sickens me, really.

"The Departed", above all, is the crowning jewel of his post-De Niro 'crime' film resume. Unlike "Infernal Affairs", which presents a deep articulation about choice, identity and destiny, "The Departed" ignored those flowery things and instead replaced them with sharp-edged machismo, rough visual texture and a hint of madness. This time, it's not much about the double lives of two moles pitted against each other and their subtle connection but more of an acute generalization of the violent nature of gangsterism itself.

And Jack Nicholson, as caricature-like as he can be, still displayed a thoroughly commanding and menacing presence as Frank Costello, whose knack for unpredictably pungent humor puts a slight comic antidote to refresh and balance the film's dark tone. An overly serious villain for a gravely-toned film is too much a chore to watch, so having someone like Mr. Nicholson to grace the screen with a conspicuously unique persona is, although I know how violently ragged "The Departed" can often times be, a thing akin to beauty.

But that does not mean that Nicholson owned and breathes fire and life unto the film. Damon and DiCaprio, the dual center of the film, didn't give in to Nicholson's larger-than-life screen occupancy. Matt Damon, with films such as "The Talented Mr. Ripley", "Good Will Hunting" and the more recent "The Informant!" as evidences to his stellar acting range, shows how he can be as increasingly heroic as Jason Bourne but can be equally despicable as a con man, scam artist, a nervous liar or as a man who runs a life of cyclic performance art. His Colin Sullivan, a mole planted by Nicholson's Costello in the police ranks, belongs fully to the last, but is a combination of all that were mentioned. That's how tricky and quite complex Damon's role really was.

Again, unlike "Infernal Affairs", who treated its Sullivan equivalent as a redemptive anti-hero, Scorsese (and screenwriter William Monahan) molded Colin Sullivan from pure lies, self-advantage and pure-bred 'pretty face' villainy and manipulation. Maybe it's just me, but I can't see one likable factor regarding Sullivan, except for the fact that him being constantly pushed around by more righteous bullies like Mark Wahlberg's Staff Sergeant Dignam (who would have thought that he's the same guy who played Dirk Diggler?) and, of course, Leonardo DiCaprio's Billy Costigan is surely a pitiful view. And after seeing the film for about four times, I believe that Damon's character is much harder to pull off than DiCaprio's, although both performed with equal energy and considerable dimension.

Some scenes were taken contextually verbatim from "Infernal Affairs", such as the wrongly-spelled word in the envelope and the pre-climactic final unraveling of the film's integral secret via the scene between Sullivan and Costigan inside the police headquarters. But what takes me in as to why "The Departed" is the better film overall, quality-wise, is the fact that everything seems to belong, and not a single thing felt forced.

Granted, the Hong Kong original is much more exquisite in its moody cinematography and perfect choice of seedy locations, but there's this pure spontaneity encapsulating "The Departed's" wholeness, enabling all its aspects, from its gallery of characters to the endlessly profane sputtering, to attain a specific level of believability.

Martin Scorsese, after creating opuses after opuses in his directorial heydays, seems to have been merely sitting tight and effortless while directing "The Departed". But that does not suggest any negative connotations. 'Sitting tight', meaning that he's been through so much cinematic gems (It's just not easy to choose just one 'best' film from his resume) that directing another masterpiece such as this one is, for him, not even a walk in the park, but like a leisurely sit in some prairie.

"Could you double-check the envelope?" Martin Scorsese uttered while finally taking hold of his first ever Oscar statuette. Don't worry, sir, that may just be a sole award, but with all the films that you've made that have waited and truly deserved that little golden man, the one that you've just received is much denser in its meaning.

And besides, you've transcended the AMPAS a long time ago, and a masterwork such as "The Departed" is just a mere reminder that you certainly still have 'it' and your burning artistry won't go out anytime soon, on this life or the next. It's (the film) also a clear-cut benchmark of how one must do a contemporary gangster neo-noir: with rough intensity, abundance of grit, and a penetrating moral undertone.

I have a certain love-hate relationship with surrealist films, with the likes of "Inland Empire" and Godard's "Week End" I consider to be too pretentious, while some like "El Topo" and "Eraserhead" I highly regard. But Luis Bunuel's "The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie" is on a different level, having its share of self-indulgent moments, while maintaining the sharp wit and sarcasm of its satiric nature, all the while being a critic on excessive lifestyles without taking itself too seriously. People that belong to the Bourgeois society, when portrayed in a darker light, can be the most irritating of film characters, but when took on stage to forcibly look at their own shortcomings that they hide with their material excesses, can be one of film lovers' secret pleasures to watch on celluloid: Let the self-obsessed hypocrites be deconstructed by some unknown force. But Bunuel, although making the film to be a major attack on the particular social class, did not finish the film laughing along with the audience; But more of like postponing the punchline of an insult joke. As shown in the film, when it's a dream, "kill them all!" and "humiliate the bastards!" can be some of the most recurring of proletariat battlecries, when fantasy fades and reality sets back, "absolve them of their sins" more like. Maybe having them miss some of their lavish lamb chops and caviars is enough. Surrealist film at its top form.

Sidney Lumet was known for the grittty realism he always injects to his films, and in Dog Day Afternoon, you can see this trademark comes to full circle. Do I even need to mention Pacino's performance? It's one of the greatest performance I've ever seen. The tense and claustrophobic atmosphere of the film, mixed with Pacino's energetic performance made it more riveting. I thought I've seen everything Sidney Lumet can offer in "Serpico", not until I've seen this masterpiece. The "Attica" scene itself is worthy to be called a classic, and Al Pacino's facial expression in the end is priceless. Once again, I want to praise Mr. Pacino for his performance on this film, a performance that will rank among the likes of Michael Corleone.

Epic mosaic of war-time Germany in the brink of Nazism's fall and can also be an ultimate film portrayal of extremist pride. I was quite surprised at how expansive the film has been in terms of parallel narratives, be it the brief story of a Hitler Youth's father or Traudl Junge's(played by Alexandra Maria Lara) observant but deeply emotional involvement with the life within the claustrophobic bunker. All of this pieces converge and circle around Adolf Hitler himself and his central deterioration from being a brain-washing, all-knowing tyrant/political rhetorician into a man grasping helplessly for desperate pride and twisted ideologies. The Fuhrer to which the story focused its attention most of the time was brilliantly played by Bruno Ganz. Yes. Bruno Ganz. That sweet philosophically lovelorn angel in "Wings of Desire", now portraying the "worst ethnic cleanser the world has ever known". There has been numerous transmutations (even an alternate reality) of Hitler's cinematic persona, but after seeing "Downfall", with his undying ego and his stubborn final salvo for what he calls 'principle' perfectly portrayed by this film inside out, surface and within, no other cinematic evocation of Hitler and his life would be as definitive as this one. "Downfall" never intended to entirely humanize Adolf Hitler(though I spotted some tears in his eyes). It merely gave a personification of a seemingly invincible prime ruler of the Aryan race and stripped him off of all the enigma and occultic intrigue. What we have is a Hitler stumbling and shouting his way into his defeat; a headfirst descent into ruins reciprocated by last-minute theatrics disguised as unswayed authority.

A very entertaining Kubrick film, one that will surely make you laugh, a very nervous laugh to be even more exact. Great performances all-around, especially Peter Sellers, who hardworkingly played three characters (Yes, like Eddie Murphy these days) and able to give each of them unique personalities, particularly the namesake of the film, Dr. Strangelove himself. But the one that also caught my funny bone was George C. Scott, I can't stop myself to laugh every time he is on a scene, specifically when he wrestled the Russian Ambassador in the "War Room". And of course, who could forget the scene involving Major Kong, that amazing sequence (considering the time it was made) became the trademark of this Kubrick gem. The final scene was pure irony at best, combining apocalyptic scenes, with jolly old songs, which is indeed very common to most Kubrick films, but it was still very unnerving, and to a certain extent, very beautiful. "Dr Strangelove" is pure chaotic comedy, but besides the humor and all, Kubrick has able to paint an exact replica of what will happen if paranoia takes over an entire nation. Bravo again to master Kubrick, another great film that will surely enter my top 30 list of all time.

One of those few, unorthodox, avant-garde American films to be named one of the best by AFI, and in my opinion, it rightfully deserved the honor. The main protagonists(not including George Hanson) was not literal characters, but instead personifications and moving, breathing symbols of many people's states of mind during the time. Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper delivered great performances as Wyatt and Billy, the two riders who decided to go into a cross-country journey against the wind of conformity to be in time for Mardi Gras. But do not be misled, that festival was merely a Macguffin to give way for the real intent of the film: And it is to show the changing morals, lifestyles, and beliefs, sometimes for the worst, of an ever-changing, evolving America. And just what Jack Nicholson's character(in a brilliant performance) said: "This used to be a good country", and he's right. In some ways, "Easy Rider" reminded me a lot of Fellini's "circus of life" point of view, as the protagonists encounter many disillusioned people along the way. There were some disturbing sequences, which I found to be brilliantly filmed, and the final, tragic scene symbolized America's unwillingness to submit to Hippies' different view of the word "freedom".

The best of the Burton-Depp collaborations. This film vividly tells the story of "The worst director of all time", Edward D. Wood Jr. and his relationship with legendary B-movie actor, Bela Lugosi. Martin Landau is brilliant, and D' Onofrio really looks like Orson Welles!!

The most bizarre western ever, and one of the most disturbing films of all time. The film contains many surreal imagery and symbolism. Alejandro Jodorowsky simply shines as actor and director, you may not know the true meaning of the film, but you will never forget this masterpiece.

Visually disturbing film by David Lynch. Very surreal, and hard to understand, but hey, it's Lynch, what do you expect?

Kubrick's complex psychological study about a couple's crumbling marriage. Severely underrated.

"This is a true story".

That is the opening statement here in "Fargo" which, more or less, automatically connotes the utter seriousness of the film's noir-like predicament. With seedy criminals like Steve Buscemi's funny-looking Carl Showalter and Peter Stormare's psychotic Gaear Grimsrud initially populating the screen with their presence, and with William H. Macy's Oscar-worthy performance as the awkward car dealer/equally awkward kidnap mastermind Jerry Lundegaard making the film more fascinating to watch, it's easy to foresee the unfathomable consequences that their weird chemistry and premeditated kidnap scheme would bring about.

And with that penetrating, albeit untrue claim, it is but common for the film to depict a criminal situation with diabolic relentlessness. But Joel and Ethan Coen, even though how limiting the film's genre and premise may be, are just too darn versatile, brilliantly sardonic and oddly comic to be hindered by limitations.

As a result, not only did we get a well-executed, wildly comic crime film, but, more significantly, also an unstoppable cinematic tour-de-force that wallows in cinematic perfection, be it in terms of characterization, the desperate plot or the finely photographed (by Roger Deakins) titular setting itself.

But if there's one reason that separates "Fargo" from other films, it surely is its peculiarly rhythmic dialogue. Delivered in all its integrity by the cast, especially by Frances Mcdormand as the pregnant police chief Marge Gunderson in what may be the most wisely chosen of all Oscar Best Actress winners, "Fargo's" tongue-in-cheek screenplay gives it an otherworldly comic feel with an originality that makes its own stand even when compared to Tarantino's uniquely trivial dialogues that has been an alternative staple for the crime genre ever since "Pulp Fiction" altered the stream of popular cinematic culture.

The film's story, told in a narrative that mixes violence, laughs and pity, involves Jerry Lundegaard, a car dealer that is waist-deep into money-related problems, and his plan to kidnap his own wife (by hiring the aforementioned criminal duo above) so he can 'monkey business' his way into collecting a million dollar ransom, which his filthy rich father-in-law (played by Harve Presnell) would pay.

But then the Coens couldn't just allow themselves to give us a smarter, calmer and cooler Jerry or a more organized and systematic Carl Showalter and Gaear Grimsrud either because if that's the case, as common sense would always say, there won't be enough grounds for a film. Instead, they gave us a Jerry in the form of the great William H. Macy that is superficially smart, ostensibly calm and just a tad bit cooler than a panicky little rat who's merely dragging his own hide out of an unexpectedly nightmarish situation that he himself has created.

Shrouded in criminality and founded in frustration, "Fargo" is a double-sided film much like the Coens' later adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's "No Country for Old Men". On one side, "Fargo" is an individualistic tale of a cornered man nearing himself into financial crumble and unnoticeable isolation who just happened to have formulated a perverse idea as his last resort. On the other, it's your common police procedural with a not so common police chief on the bloody trails of Showalter and Grimsrud, both of which are not really the smoothest of low-lives

If Tommy Lee Jones' Ed Tom Bell in the Coens' later "No Country for Old Men" displays the elegiac sentiments of a geriatric policeman who witnesses the Texan landscapes' criminal evolution with melancholic eyes, Marge Gunderson is a fast-thinking, no non-sense woman that is wholly focused on her work that, despite of the icy entirety of Fargo, always see every day as a beautiful one.

Naturally appealing and sometimes even condescendingly-toned, Frances Mcdormand proved in this film that she is one of the most agile actresses out there while at the same time effortlessly integrating her portrayal of Marge Gunderson into the pantheon of great film heroines. Marge may not be the most immediately memorable but she definitely is the most unique.

As time passes by, as I repeatedly watch "Fargo", my main reason for revisiting the film is becoming less and less about the plot itself but more and more about the characters and the wonderful dialogue.

When their masterful rookie effort "Blood Simple" was released in 1984, Joel and Ethan Coen were hailed as 'fresh' talents representative of the neo-noir world. After "Fargo", it was never the same for them, and they haven't stopped since then. But out of their wonderful body of work, "Fargo", after all of these years, still stands tall as their towering masterwork.

One word could actually summarize the experience of watching such documentary: Harrowing. It's a rare concert documentation that treats the music not as a testament of art in the rock n' roll scene, but more of an inaudible score to accompany the chaos. Even for rock purists, it's hard to appreciate The Rolling Stone's works amidst the anarchy, because rather than it(the songs) being the celebration of the music, it's a bitter taste not just in our mouths, but also for Mick Jagger's and his troupe, whose influence among the "hippie" culture has brought about this unexpected folly. There were many sequences of sheer absurdities that one would mistake some of it to be purely surrealist ones, but the scene that lingered in my mind was the shot of The Rolling Stones' helicopter's departure, as the "hippie" counterculturist desperately said their goodbyes to the leaving band. It is a scene reminiscent of the final shot of George Romero's "Dawn of the Dead", and for once, I thought, the audiences of that fateful day was comparable to Romero's undead: Both animated by something beyond their control, but ultimately likes. After witnessing the horrors of "Gimme Shelter", I instantly had the desire to rewatch "This is Spinal Tap", just as how I liked to take a shower after watching "Salo".

"A sequel that surpassed the original", this is the historic statement about this brilliant follow-up to the Godfather. And yes, that statement is very true. A great example of methodical acting by DeNiro. Pacino's best performance.

I was quite weary before watching this film as I haven't been that familiar with the history of German division aside from the fall of Berlin Wall and well, Reagan's famous 'tear down this wall' speech. But "Good Bye, Lenin!", with a narrator (that's also the film's protagonist) that seem far too poetic at times but ultimately convincing, delivered the necessary information with a tone of mundane deliberateness to highlight the character's naturalism for audiences to follow the film's political background closely .

It's as if there's a far more important theme to tackle other than socialist intricacies. But of course, there is: An enduring story of a son's love to his mother devoid of any conditionals.

After his socialist mother (Katrin Sass in an impressive performance) has awakened from an 8-month comma due to a heart attack, Alex (played by Daniel Bruhl, whom you may recognize as Frederick Zoller in the later Tarantino film "Inglourious Basterds"), who have learned from the doctor that his mother shouldn't be shocked or hooked into excitement in any way whatsoever as it may result to complications, is eager to keep her home. But complications is never just a health dilemma. The Berlin Wall has fallen. It's now one Germany, and the stocks of Spreewald gherkins has cruised into scarcity. Her mother's reality has turned into a unified land filled with alien capitalism.

He faced the situation with a calm demeanor and absurdist resolute, and helped by his friend and aspirant filmmaker Denis (Florian Lukas, who's like a cross between Robert Carlyle and a younger Ed Harris), decided to re-create GDR in ingenious kinds of ways as to prevent her mother from having the heart-thumping revelation of her life. A well-intended deception heightened by comedy. A 'comedy' that surely roots out from social idealism (the mother) suppressed by empirical determination.

Director Wolfgang Becker directed these sequences with uncommon energy and quirks that the first hour of the film flowed so effortlessly with quick pace, ease and story-telling delight. Yet from those elements mainly conceived from clever concepts and scenarios, "Good Bye, Lenin!" is still focused in its human drama.

It's less a politically-toned film than it is a penetrating study of connection (Alex's family), re-connection (the father sub-plot) and disconnection (from A horrid emotional past and the attachment to the GDR). Of course, from the point of view of a German who have experienced the social atmosphere of East/West Germany, "Good Bye, Lenin!" is mainly affecting due to the countless nostalgic references to olden times and the euphoric destruction of separatist sentiments. But from those way outside looking in (like me), what's very special with this film is its balance of happiness and melancholy by way of how it highlights the fun of liberty and the anguish of mistakes.

"Good Bye, Lenin!" is very eloquent on all sides, capturing the essential 'celebratory' mood of reunified Germany and the irony of the countless ruins and how it tries to accommodate its reverberated surroundings in desperate vain, especially how the wrecked Lenin statue hanging below a helicopter seems to communicate something to Alex's mother (one of the many great scenes in the film) as if asking for forgiveness or asking for her hand and saying, 'my child, my deeply socialist child, come with me'.

From its shifting pace to comic moments and times of tears, "Good Bye, Lenin!" has been strongly consistent with the entirety of its delivery and it has rendered a political reverie-turned reality into a convincing world of varied emotions and where euphemistic acceptance is a possibility. And moreover, departing from the complexities, the film is, simply put, a lasting love letter to all mothers who have loved their children unlike any other.

Alright, before anything else, let me say that "The Graduate" is definitely one of the best films of all time. And I rarely brand any films with such commendations quite easily (as if I'm a somebody. Ha.). It features a more-than-worthy star-making performance by Dustin Hoffman and Anne Bancroft's memorable and definitive portrayal of a promiscuous cougar in the guise of Mrs. Robinson. Add up the beautiful songs of Simon & Garfunkel and a deeply resonant ending, we got here a masterpiece.

But when I say 'masterpiece', it's not by the standards of what the word may immediately connote (pageantry, scope, larger-than-life actors) mind you, but what this influential little film has left behind. Back in the late 60's when it was released, with much cultural changes happening in the forefronts of America, maybe it's popularity has sparked mainly because its main theme hasn't been explored before. Sure it's a romantic-comedy. Sure it's a love story. But at the time prior to this, mainstream speaking, any films of the genre won't mean anything if it isn't anchored by A-list stars.

Then "The Graduate" came. It's a story of a newly graduated man. It should be happy, right? Even I thought so. The film opens with our protagonist, Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman) sitting in an airplane. He should be glad, right? the camera then follows him as he steps onto a moving walkway with his face filled with uncertainty, fearfulness and a hint of dread. Yes, he graduated, but he doesn't know what to do next. Then he encounters one of his parents' friends, Mrs. Robinson. She asks him to drive her home, offers him a drink and requested for him to unzip her dress. This should have been a meet cute film, right? After some time, he delves into a semi-guilt-ridden affair with her. Hesitant at first, he likes the idea of it, and he likes her too. But then he meets Mrs. Robinson's daughter, Elaine (Katharine Ross). He loves her at first sight but Mrs. Robinson won't allow love to bud between the two. It should have been very easy, right?

From those complications rooted out from the idea of romantic relationships, "The Graduate", based on a novel by Charles Webb, unfolded what it was all about. Of course it's mainly focused on Benjamin's elusive quest for love, but I think the film is more about his existential search for meaning and its consequences. Only from that that his two-sided encounter with love, transgressive, determined and all, was inspired. And with the help of the uncommon cinematography by Robert Surtees which occasionally focuses shots into Hoffman's face with an intent to document his subtle pain and emotional crisis through his facial expressions, "The Graduate", aside from being an unorthodox tale of romance, succeeded to show the sweltering pressure of a newly grad whose own mind dictates he's got nowhere to go.

The film is filled with many memorable sequences, but there's one great scene in it where Benjamin, wearing a scuba outfit, enters the swimming pool and in the presence of his parents and some other guests, remained standing, motionless, below the water. It's a moment that can easily be gazed upon as a random slip-in about suburban life's view of young people's successes. But through its initial first person point of view to his plunge into the pool, it finely highlights his isolation, with the water pressure translating into his own and from that bluish loneliness he seeks to find warmth. But he is cornered. By his parents. By his parents' friends. By himself.

"The Graduate", directed masterfully by Mike Nichols, is an unforgettable film. Not just because of some of its laughs or its central romantic arc, but because of its exposition of the difference between flirting with the idea of love and simply embracing it. We saw both sides, Benjamin experienced both; he preferred the euphoria of true romance. But after all, uncertainty is still in his eyes and a sole question still in his mind: "What should I do next?"

As the film ends, I can't help but give "The Graduate" a small applause and slightly scold myself as to why I haven't seen it sooner. A true classic, and what "Fargo" is to Roger Ebert (as a definitive reason as to why he loves movies), "The Graduate" is to me. It really is.

Chaplin's masterful and very humorous attack to the insanity that is Nazism. And just like Mr. Chaplin's silent films, "The Great Dictator" as a full talkie, still has its fair share of golden moments. Though a lot can be mentioned when asked "What is the funniest sequence?" in the film, my favorite is the whole state visit to Tomania by Benzino Napaloni, it's just funny to think what could have happened if Hitler and Mussolini acted that way. And the final speech, somehow caught me off-guard, because I expected the Jewish Barber to blabber nonsensical things, but instead, Charlie Chaplin delivered what maybe is the best monologue in cinema history. This is without a doubt, one of Chaplin's greatest achievements, and inspired many other war parody films, such as "Dr. Strangelove".

Very, very underrated film, and in my opinion, this is one of Brian De Palma's finest films. It is great to see Robert DeNiro in his humble years, and this is certainly not an exception for me. His performance and the film itself is very natural, but still with artistic touch. The amateurish look of the film added to its humor, and the editing was good. The ending determined the fate of the three main characters, each having a semi-tragic feeling, but still be giving your face a weird smile as the credit rolls. I was very surprised by "Greetings" as a whole, I never thought it will be this good, because I just picked my copy of this in a "sale" bin, so thank god I've bought this unique film. The non-linear approach to the film made the film one-of-a-kind, filled with quick cuts and colorful title cards to separate the episodic scenes. The "peeping tom" scene was very unforgettable, one proof that Brian De Palma, even at a young age, can make a film that is both artistic and humorous. The satirical approach to hot issues at the time was hilarious, especially the one about the JFK assassination and how can it drive a normal person into paranoia. "Greetings" is literally a hidden gem, one that I really did not expect to be that good.

A very different Western film, with many of the primary ingredients of the said genre removed. Some said that "High Noon" was an anti-Western, and in some ways, I agree with that speculation. It's one of the first westerns to remove the superficial courage and heroism of the wild west, and instead replaced them with fear and cowardice among others. Some western film heroes treat shoot-outs like a simple walk in the park, but not Will Kane(Gary Cooper). He came back to town not for self-affirmation, or to be branded as a hero, hell, not even because of courage, but as a moral obligation and closure. In many scenes, everyone could even see deep, flinching fear in his eyes. The whole town has abandoned him, treating his many years of great service as if it all did not happen. In the end, there's nothing satisfactory enough but to see Will Kane to be triumphant, because who would not? But one thing's the most satisfying above all: And it is to see the look in the townspeople's faces when Will Kane finally did. One of the best westerns ever produced.

A Filipino film of epic proportions, it is the story of Elsa, and her life as a false prophet. The climactic stampede scene in the desert and Elsa's speech are one for the ages.

What does "disturbing" means? In an automatic definition by one's mind, it pertains to thematic elements that leads to violence or sex, and sometimes, the two combined. Many filmmakers had experimented with it, but the conclusion of it all, whether he/she is an auteur or not, is that nobody has done justice to the word without ultimately submitting on using some of the elements mentioned above. Enter Neil Labute's "In the Company of Men", a film tightly written with dialogues(mostly conversational ones) that can be alienating to most people, but would certainly pass as mundane in the darker corners of the corporate world. But still, I have to say, it's one of the most emotionally unsettling films I have seen. It involves two yuppies in their ultimate plan for revenge on the opposite sex, an extreme contempt brought about by past relationships. But through the duration of the film, we laugh with them, but then a one word question arises, "Why?" Then suddenly we question their actions, and another "Why?" The next thing we know, it's the end of the film. Aaron Eckhart is unforgettable as Chad, maybe the most appalling of film characters, and with the most narcissistic("Because I could") of motives. He may not be in the extremes of Easton Ellis' Patrick Bateman, but with a misogynistic act that is just as unnerving. "In the Company of Men" was a film tailor-made for people to watch and ponder on, to re-evaluate one's thinking, and also a bitter commentary to the emotional vanity of most men.

A violent, and disturbing film, but beyond its skin is a message presented to us with honesty by director Gaspar Noe': "Time Destroys Everything".

A very emotional film about revenge and faith to god, this will remain as one of the most powerful films ever made. It did not even contain any musical scores, but instead relied on the silence of the surroundings to create tension and feel of discomfort to the viewers. Max Von Sydow's performance as a multi-layered character forced to exact a disturbing revenge on those who raped and killed his daughter was magnificent in all of its subtle glory. The atmosphere and striking images of the film was also unforgettable, especially the "tree secene". An important film about the futility of revenge and the undying faith to god.

A slow-moving story, but hits you right in the head with its shocking climax that came very unexpected. Vic Silayan is great.

My personal favorite among Kurosawa's film. Haunting, surreal and nightmarish, this is Kurosawa's darkest film yet. Mifune's best performance in my opinion.

A great tribute to old classic film-noirs, "L.A. Confidential" packs a wallop. Containing three great actors top-billed by the brilliant Kevin Spacey, this film can't do any wrongs. The film shows Los Angeles' underbelly, contained with sleazy blackmails, murder, and corruption. At first, I thought "L.A. Confidential" will most likely copy the style of Martin Scorsese's brilliant "Goodfellas", which is most likely a bad sign, but as the film progresses, it shifts from its subsequent flaws and turned into a brilliantly weaved crime saga. The story at first is thin, but as time passes by it slowly thickens and hit you right in the face with shocking revelations after another. This should have won best picture instead of the heavily-bloated "Titanic", but that's just my opinion. Russel Crowe's performance is very underrated.

Warheads being stolen in spy-thriller films: That's common. But seeing an honest, impoverished man's bicycle to be stolen: That's different, yet familiar, because it's life as it is, not sugar-coated by any means by director Vittorio De Sica. "Ladri di Biciclette", a testament of how powerful films can be even with the simplest means to create them. David O Selznick, interested in the project, wanted to push Cary Grant for the role, but don't even get started with how the film would turn out, the character is not a charismatic leading man. Then De Sica himself wanted Henry Fonda for the role, but the character is not even a morally upright hero, yes, Antonio is fictitious, but his story is real, so it comes to De Sica like a divine intervention: Cast amateur actors.

It's the perfect choice to such film, remove the camera from the father and son, and they can still continue on with their lives. That's the main power of neorealism: To transform the lenses of the camera not as part of the illusion, but as an eavesdropper to their plight, without passing any judgment. I always wondered why this film got both "The Bicycle Thief" and "Bicycle Thieves" as its title. I think it's not an issue of language translation, but a barometer of an audience's judgment to the film.

(SPOILERS)Antonio stole a bicycle in the end after his futile attempt to repossess his own, it was a wrong move, but only brought about by his despair: He represents "The Bicycle Thief". The man with the german cap, accused by Antonio, may or may not be the thief, but if he is, those who protected him against Antonio's wrath should also be branded as such: They are the "Bicycle Thieves". It's up to audience's perception and standpoint what to call the film.

This Antonioni film has caught my attention first when I've recalled how a pointless recommendation to this film was made by "Life of Brian". Then again, reading from a book(from what I remember, "Christianity in Movies" or something along that title), how "impenetrable" this film is. So indeed I gave the film a try, and as I have expected, it's a slow-moving film but never plods(at least in my view), as it was created not for audiences to anticipate every plot developments, but to be attached into it, to be an observer hovering around the apathetic streets of Milan, an eavesdropper looking in into private social parties, and more importantly, a poor fellow watching over a marriage unaware of its decay. Marcello Mastroianni and Jeanne Moreau captures with their facial expressions, the ennui of an unhappy companionship, walking around, greeting and smiling to people, but never to each other. Maybe it's just me, but I can imagine "La Notte" to be a very potent companion piece to Fellini's "La Dolce Vita", not just the idea of having the same lead, but also the very core which both films unusually share. Both dealt with a writer not knowing much of what to do but to divulge into senseless parties, which vividly, ironically depicts the imperfections of the so-called "perfect life". Yes, "La Notte's" center is a failing marriage, and "La Dolce Vita" about one's existential anxiety, but the similarities between the two films are just worth mentioning, especially both being directed by two uncontested masters of the craft. As much as "La Notte" may look very complex on the surface, Antonioni may have one simple, provocative theme to send through: That the only thing worse than a bitter separation is a marriage pretty much civil in its exterior, but with hidden, deep wounds left to rot within.

Like "Grand Illusion", Renoir's "The Rules of the Game" almost became a 'lost art', made and shown in theaters at a time of imminent war, this film never had a single sympathy from neither sides, be it it's very own France, which banned it for morally repulsive contents, and of course the Nazi regime, which bans everything that moves. What's so great about this film is its humorous handling of its serious subject matter(extramarital affairs), making all the complex, secretive affairs seem playful, and all the participants look nothing farther than normal. I reckon the year this film was made, 1939, and again I'm awed at how even at the time where cinema is just learning the ropes, a period where directors are nothing but just experimenting with the technical diversities of the medium, Jean Renoir has created a most articulate, substantial film, looking into the Bourgeois life through both point of views of masters and servants, but never with any bias. Renoir crafted it with how both sides talk, how they think, and to act, while all the same never intruding the structure with his personal views. As subtle as it seems, Renoir's directorial presence is clear, knows when his characters will throw words, when to increase the sounds for further impact(the gunshots during the rabbit hunt), and when to go back and forth with farcical comedy and serious drama. The term 'presence' there can even be a literal one, as his prowess as an actor is also very much on display. I've just made an analysis on the Filipino novel "The Woman who Had Two Navels" by Nick Joaquin, and I've unearthed a most unusual similarity between him and Renoir; and it's how they put both the aristocrats and the lower ones on common thinking, on same inclinations. The novel dealt with how both embraces materialistic western influence. the latter, however, is more morally prevalent, as this film shows the commonalities of how both classes, however different, anticipates, adores, and plays with the universal idea of promiscuity. For once when they look at each other, they never stare at their contrast; they're looking at a mirror.

A sensitive theme no one could have dared to touch, what more to turn into a film? Based on Nikos Kazantzakis' book of the same name, Martin Scorsese pulled off the almost impossible, creating a film so rich on emotions and visual beauty that it eventually transcended its controversial subject, although of course, not released worldwide unscathed. The film's majority was about Jesus Christ and his messianic exploits that are nothing but common staple on Catholicism and told countless times everywhere by almost all media. But as it came down to its final hour or so, it turned from being a provocative hate-inspiring picture into a deeply humanist film, one that turns even the most powerful figure of Christianity not into an ultimate savior of sorts, but instead a center of an engrossing drama that is as contemplative as it was beautifully acted. Willem Dafoe delivered the best performance of his career(or perhaps one of the best ever), not being bothered that he did not look like Christ(based on existing illustrations) at all. He embodied the role, owning it both heart and soul even just for 3 hours. Harvey Keitel showed Judas in a different light, but not completely deconstructing the mythos behind the figure that is known today as the epitome of a traitor. I have much to say about the greatness of this film, but only one sentence was formulated in my mind once the film ended: "This is why I watch and love films". Although this film does not usually recall to one's mind when asked "What defines Scorsese's career?", it's indeed, without a shadow of a doubt, one of the milestones of his career.

The EPIC film to end all epic films, "Lawrence of Arabia" is very rightful to be called such. The film itself succeeded to show TE Lawrence as he is, not romanticizing his personality and turning him into a flawless hero. Lawrence have his own flaws, and those are rather seen in this big-budget spectacular. He is one of the most complex characters I've ever seen, but the portrayal will not be that successful if not because of Peter O 'Toole. Yes, his performance was a bit stagy at times, but he gave the exact emotions in every scene and did it perfectly. O 'Toole deserved his Oscar nod, and in my opinion should have won it, maybe a tie with Gregory Peck, who also gave a great performance. Lawrence of Arabia should not be called a glorious epic, because it is not, "Lawrence of Arabia" should be ranked along "The Godfather part 2", as both deals with man's emotional tragedy. This is David Lean's masterpiece, a film that serves many purposes.

Very seldom do I privately clap at what I see on screen, and this film is one of the rarities. To be very specific, it happened during the film's most famous(or notorious, if you may)scene(the toilet-dining room). Luis Bunuel is very open about the fact that sometimes, the imagery he creates has little to no meaning at all. But in that particular sequence, I just lauded at how perfect his surrealistic symbolism has come into, and how he, once more, placed the upper-class in utmost ridicule. It's a very inspired moment in the film, and may very well be summarized by a vulgar colloquialism: "They speak out of their a**, and they talk sh**". Of course, as much as I expected "The Phantom of Liberty" to be a part of a "Bourgeoisie satire" trilogy("The Exterminating Angel" and "The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie"), it was unveiled as a humorous attack on police procedural and the judiciary system itself, and not just to a specific social class, but to the morally fallacious behaviors of its human studies. For some filmmakers trying to create a critique-type film about these subject matters, they would rather delve into uncomfortable territories, then construct a palatable narrative out of it. But Bunuel, always known for his complexly analyzed surrealistic films, has came up with an idea of unusual simplicity to give the film a more lasting impact: a clever application of unconscious sarcasm. Films with this content, comedic or not, can easily be branded as an attack to the common premises of cinematic mores, but this work is handled very delicately(with very convincing performances) that it came out looking very harmless. But just like his 1972 Oscar winner, it comes with a sharpened pitchfork hidden behind its humorous cloak, always armed to radically poke its intended targets, but at the same time, still ready to entertain with its uncommon laughs.

A second viewing.

Time and time again, it has been proven that a mark of a great film is the fact that no matter which place and what timeline you bring the core of the main story and its themes, the impact will always be the same. That claim is valid, of course, not strictly limited merely for films, but in every medium of artistic narratives as a whole, so to speak. Shakespeare's works, for example, right? Set "Hamlet" in Ancient Greece, "Macbeth" in Imperial China and "Romeo and Juliet" in Monarchical India, but the essence of their tales won't even be affected. 'Timeless', as they say.

But then there comes Sofia Coppola, armed with a little film called "Lost in Translation", a very picturesque 'Japan' to render fresh and some emotions to transcend. The aforementioned claim to greatness of films, as what was stated above, appeared to be not the case for "Lost in Translation" that made it rightfully so. Its theme of alienation and a subsequent connection in a haze of culture shock and language barrier (although were treated by Coppola's script with witty naivety that does not poke fun in the wrong places) was tackled perfectly by specifically setting the film in 'Japan'.

Putting it in China will get the same effect of misunderstanding and cultural difference, but the ideal Japanese bluish grayness wouldn't be there. Setting it somewhere in Europe may look too elegant, while locating the film somewhere exotic and infinitely tropical will be too adventurous and lively. The film needed stagnation, but at the same time, it asks for some unpredictable quirks and eccentricities. Japan is, after all, the definitive country there is. Tokyo's technologically advanced, contemporary metropolis, to be exact.

So, now that the alienating location was established, where would the film extract its romance? With the help of Scarlett Johansson's knowing yet discreet performance as newlywed twenty-something Charlotte and Bill Murray's naturally comic performance (that is one of the best performances of his career) as midlife crisis-inflicted actor Bob Harris, the film (along with its emotionally observant screenplay that won Sofia an Oscar) has further elevated the film from being a potentially lackluster travelogue-cum-romantic comedy film into a whole new height.

Granted, there were scenes that may look like cinematographic clichés for films set in foreign countries (the much used editing where a character is looking out from a car or a train's window, while images of landmarks are juxtaposing along with their wondrous stares and awestruck faces), but it was part of their characters. Beyond their situations, one tagging along with her husband (played by Giovanni Ribisi) for a job (Charlotte), and the other in there to shoot a whiskey commercial (Bob), although debilitated by cultures and places immensely different from their own, they still strive to appreciate Japan as it is, and to understand.

In some scenes, it was quite obvious that Bill Murray were ad-libbing lines mostly for comic effect, but it makes his character's bond with Charlotte much more genuine with all its tender spontaneity. To be precise, it is in a scene where they are eating in a typical Japanese restaurant of some sorts. Scripted or not, Bill Murray delivered his lines so irrevocably funny in a certain conversationally mundane way that Scarlett Johansson's laughs looked more authentic and very 'by-the-moment'. These sequences have helped to uphold their already very involving chemistry, and through that, they have achieved to inhabit the sensibilities of real people that for once, although how admittedly beautiful Scarlett Johansson is, by way of her portrayal of Charlotte, I wouldn't even be surprised if I bump into her character in a crowd of tourists all dazed and confused. Yes, she was that convincing.

There were many unforgettable scenes in the film mostly enhanced by Bill Murray's everyman-type humor and Scarlett Johansson's combination of ennui and starry-eyed cultural wonder. But it has got to be the final, evocative scene that easily takes the cake as the film's defining moment that exposes the silent power of love.

We see them say goodbye in the hotel lobby, but we all know that it was merely for formality's sake. After the brief farewell, Bob rides a car. Then in a busy corner, Bob Harris asked for his driver to stop. She saw a blond-haired woman that seems like Charlotte. It was her indeed. He went into her and they embraced. He then whispered to her something inaudible to us, but what Bob has said were just meager in importance. We have followed their connection, their relationship and their love close enough for the film's entirety that in that final whisper, we accepted their privacy and we gave it to them.

And as Bob returns to the backseat of his car that will bring him into the airport and then back into America, he alternately looks out the window and around him. The buildings and the highway. The cars and the skyline. At first, when he arrived in Tokyo, he looked upon them with questions in his mind, but after he has professed his love to an acquaintance in a foreign land that has unconsciously taught him to understand, he looked upon the metropolis with cathartic eyes. This time, it's with clarity, and with a hint of a smile.

Very, very unique, one of a kind film that is one of the best of the late 60's, and probably of all time. The film is heading into a very realistic path, but with the help of great editing, the film has garnered the style of an art-house film that often uses psychedelic, non conformist images not seen on a regular basis in cinema. One of the very first films that fearlessly and had the guts to show New York's real color, beyond all the formality of its unseemingly corporate surroundings. Lead actors Dustin Hoffman and Jon Voight gave career-defining performances as they showed us that camaraderie can sometimes be found on most ironic of things. What makes this film so great, in my opinion, is its vivid, and dark visual portrait of New York city itself. Never have I seen a film so great in terms of outer texture, and so artful in its presentation that it is very hard to take your eyes away from it even though how grueling and depressing the film gets. Downbeat ending may detract some, but it is utterly justifiable, because it is about time the silver screen will finally taste the pungent taste of REAL life.

Idealism and principle clashing with political graft and conformity, with James Stewart's legendary Jefferson Smith being the unlikely warrior for the first, and the Senate as the battle arena. Although the main theme of the film is very serious and even condoned by numerous fascist governments at the time, Frank Capra has able to inject some humor that has made this film both compelling and a joy to watch. For those having interest on entering politics, or even those already there, "Mr. Smith goes to Washington" is essential viewing, and it's not just a recommendation, I think it's highly necessary for them to see such film, it really is. Very inspiring at its display of democratic bravery, and its lasting message still untouched by its age, relevant even today, or, ESPECIALLY today.

Women reign in this unstoppably comic romantic farce directed by famous Spanish filmmaker Pedro Almodovar. I do not know, but Spanish actresses really have a very unique way of conveying cinematic energy. Maybe it's their relentless native language or the contrast of their seemingly ordinary, straight-laced feminine features with unfitting comedy that has able to pull it off. They inhabit the screen with deadpan hysteria and overwhelming desperation that they never seem to bother with any kind of consciousness with how they look or act.

Do you reckon how some actresses act on a comedy film obviously aware that they're in on it anticipating every punchlines and absurdly crude behaviors? "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown" came wallowing in the opposite, making its characters squeeze out stupefying humor from the odds of their internalized romances than the jokes concerning them. It's a pure comedy film parodying the maddening residues of a romance and the secretive yet strangely amusing life of 'lovers' than real 'couples'. It's never a rom-com romp. Yes, the film's comic foibles is at play, but the idea of romance is so far away.

The film's visual composition is very impressive considering that it's more concerned with its characters than its surroundings (its various settings are treated merely as narrative 'addresses' than truly involving set pieces). And accompanying the far-fetched reality of the whole plot, the film is uniquely exuberant in its colors (especially in Pepa's (the beautifully, dryly humorous Carmen Maura) scenes in her apartment), depicting quite subtly, although with vibrant hues, the colorfully crazy nuances of a mistress' life.

Yet with its overwhelming, intricately written female characters that show the likes of a squeamish woman involved with Shiite terrorists, one who faked her sanity to get out of a mental institution and a woman whose facial features resemble a Picasso painting losing her virginity in a dream, which director Almodovar may have injected some feminist empowerment into, "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown" is never a film mainly concerned about feminism. Above all, I think it's more inclined with destroying the foundations of chauvinism and the romantic narcissism of men. Hell, we even see our women characters at the peak of emotional vulnerability after their devotions to their 'loving' men spiral out of their control. Is that purely feminist? No, I do not think so. I think the film is more of a tongue-in-cheek portrayal of the overall sloppiness of modernist love; quick and easy, passionate yet dire.

There's a scene in the film where the main object of affection, Ivan (a namesake of mine), Pepa's ex-lover, Lucia's (classy madness by Julieta Serrano) ex-husband, and Paulina's (Kiti Manver) current flame, is shown dubbing a Hollywood film with his Spanish language. The actor in the film within the film, Sterling Hayden, is commanding Joan Crawford to repeat what he says ("Lie to me. Tell me you've always loved me. Tell me you would have died without me."), but her mouth, although spouting words, never lets out any sounds. It was all silence on her part.

Yes, in the film's immediate reality, Joan Crawford's dubber (who is Pepa) is not yet present. But Almodovar, through that subtle scene, may have expressed his particular stance to what women must do in times when men's affectionately 'hollow' words pervade itself and when their romantic authoritarianism takes over: Shut up. Think. Wait.

Well, Pepa certainly didn't, and in the next scene, as she hears Sterling Hayden's words dubbed by Ivan through her headset, she fainted. Stung by the flowery words of an aging 'Don Juan', she was. But then there's always time for sobriety.

A stunning visual treat for Lynch fans. the tagline of the film is very misleading: "A love story in the city of dreams." The LOVE story in the film is very nightmarish and ambiguous, two things that are expected in a Lynch film. Naomi Watts showed in this film that she is a very talented actress.

One of the best ensemble films ever made that, thanks to director Sidney Lumet and screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky, has able to balance the sharp satire and the emotional drama. In a more straightforward film, this could have been a relentless stretch of caricature characters, all leading to an inevitable message in the end. Peter Finch delivered an unforgettable performance as the mad Howard Beale, but though he is the one much remembered if people hear about this film, it is William Holden's turn as Max Schumacher that was the heart of the whole film. It was almost a necessity for an Oscar-winning performance to contain great amount of emotional content, but Faye Dunaway gave a performance so heartless, emotionless and cold, that for me, her character belongs to the rogue gallery of cinema history. And Robert Duvall, famously known as of that time to be the soft-spoken consigliere in "The Godfather", was ecstatic and throwing unstoppable rants as Hackett, while Ned Beatty, although a brief role, gave a great portrayal of a TV executive, with saracsm and sharp wit. It can be noticed in this review that majority of the praise I gave was for the actors, why not? It was an actor-powered film, and it was clear that Sidney Lumet gave way for them to shine, but he still left an indelible mark of a great director. "Network" was a satire of the maddened and media-frenzied world of ours, but it was also about how heartless media people can be just to get rid of a "lousy rating".

Very, very disturbing, blood-drenched melodrama about a man who seeks revenge to those who put him into imprisonment for 15 years. Just revealing the twist at the end is a very big sin to commit. The showcase of technical mastery in the film was amazing, one could compare this aspect to that of "Fight Club". The performances was great all around, especially by the lead actor. This is one of the most frightening non-horror films I've seen, and that is a very rare case. The hallway fight was a bit overrated, but the film itself is a masterpiece on its own, even without that fight scene. A grand achievement of Asian Cinema.

Marlon Brando is one of the best actors of all time, and here in Elia Kazan's masterpiece "On the Waterfront", he showed us why he is hailed as one. Forget Godfather, put aside streetcar, move away last tango, this is Brando's ULTIMATE performance. I heard a lot about the "I coulda been a contenda" speech, and I thought at first that the line was vastly overrated and I thought that any actor could have done it, but when I saw Brando delivered the immortal lines, it is the end of my skepticism. The mixed emotions in that particular scene adds power to the lines, it is hard to imagine any actor delivering the speech, even great actors like Robert DeNiro or Al Pacino does not come to my imagination delivering those dialogues. The scenes were crafted perfectly, raw and simply powerful, and in the end, one cannot help but praise Elia Kazan's staggering masterwork. This is an important film to watch, and it just not concern film history, but it is also significant on a moral level.

It started out with an opening scene with a western-type editing. We see a man walking in a no man's land and we wonder how he got there. He's not a man going into a mission, but more like coming back from a failed one. He's Travis, a man who unofficially took a vow of silence and is heading towards uncertainty. "Paris, Texas" is a Macguiffn of a title, making us audiences believe that it is Travis' ultimate destination, only finding out that there is more to him to redeem than a piece of a dry land. The main character was played by character actor Harry Dean Stanton in one of his rare leading roles. Producers must have found him fairly unsuitable for a lead in terms of physical appearance, but no one dared to look at his ability to evoke great amount of emotions in such small ounces of effort. The climactic scene is the ultimate proof of this claim. Many sentimental pictures in the mainstream scene concerning reconciliatory themes have characters that are tailor-made for audiences to empathize with, and all rushing into a satisfactory ending to finish the story. But "Paris, Texas" made it an hour longer than the usual, completing the circle of emotions with subtle ease. And though the characters were literally throwing out their repressed emotions, it never felt contrived. The end scene of Travis' face with a faint glint of smile, has able to support the heavy pour out of emotions in the earlier scene, which only proved the film's literal, emotional power.

Deeply emotional, and moving war film, which is basically not about war itself, but about the people, on both conflicting sides, who dealt and suffered with its destruction. In all honesty, Adrien Brody's performance is one of the best of all time, in my opinion, and he really deserved the Oscar he received for the role. The war is not the central theme of the film, but survival, it was about Szpilman's(Brody) journey through life and death, his journey to redemption. Polanski's portrayal of Germans was not clearly biased, he showed it based on his experience, with honesty, and truth. Even the battles scenes isn't a central piece of the film, as you may notice, the battle sequences were not glittered with epic camera movements and glorious editing, but they were indeed viewed through the eyes of the protagonist, and how he coped with every explosions, screams, and gunshots he hear. And then, there was a very unexpected character that took center stage, a German superior by the name of Hosenfeld, who, by a sudden leap of fate, helped Szpilman to survive the extreme hunger that the destructive war has bought into him. Even though the end was quite upbeat, the depressing feeling will still creep into your subconscious, because even though Szpilman has able to survive the horrors and captivities of war, these things scarred him forever. Polanski was great in Chinatown, but his crafts and artistry came into real form in this film.

This film really and effectively proved that subtlety is a formula for utter brilliance and beauty. Holly Hunter gave a very effective and powerful performance without even saying a single word(Let's not count the narration at the end, shall we). Sam Neill and Harvey Keitel both gave top-notch performances, and Anna Paquin's unforgettable portrayal of the mute woman's daughter. Eerie and tragic, with a little touch of surrealism made this an unforgettable masterpiece. And let's not forget the haunting musical score that will certainly stay in your mind for a long time and one day, you will just notice yourself humming it, and you will suddenly realize that the world is a better place, and life is bitter-sweet.

Again, with Miyazaki's unique artistic touch, he turned a potentially stereotypical action-adventure story into another magical film, but this time, in a more realistic ground. As with the case of "My Neighbor Totoro", Hayao Miyazaki carefully maintains the originality of his works, be it in the emotional or visual aspects. "Porco Rosso" is also the funniest Ghibli film I have seen, with "My Neighbors the Yamadas" in close second. But if singular sequences is the one to talk about, the climactic fight between Porco and Curtiss may stand in the pinnacle of hilarious filmmaking. Yes, there are many films that were considered to be Miyazaki's best, such as "Spirited Away" and "Princess Mononoke", but "Porco Rosso" is really the one that gave me a genuine awe to Hayao Miyazaki and his masterful works.

An artistic western film filled with allegories about life and death. The landscapes are beautiful, as if the whole film's backdrop was a painting, while the "Peggy Gordon" scene was very hypnotic, a very beautiful peace of song playing against a flagellation sequence, an example of great irony commonly explored in films, but not as effective as the one in here. The performances are great, especially Ray Winstone and Danny Huston, while having the great John Hurt as a some kind of a bonus. Guy Pearce completely embodied his role, a very sympathetic character, but still carries the animalistic characteristic of an outlaw. The cinematography was very top-notch, and the melancholic plot was very effective. The blood and violence, in my opinion, was very necessary to the film's central theme: life and death, and it also adds to the emotional factor of key scenes, particularly the very downbeat, but powerful climax. The ending was very poetic, sad, and melodramatic, to a certain extent. "The Proposition" was like a punch to the gut, a film that should not just be seen but rather be experienced. One of the best films of the 2000's, a masterpiece, not just in the western genre, but a masterpiece in general.

Oh, how "Pulp Fiction" exemplifies the very meaning of the phrase 'it gets better after every viewing'. One can watch this film any way he/she wants to. If you're in a mood for a pretty slick, densely-written comedy of characters and choices, then there's nowhere to look further than this film. If you're in for some pop culture-laden crime film, then "Pulp Fiction" it still is.

Now, if you may initially think that this film is nothing but a shallowly self-indulgent farce that extracts its energy and ideas from worn-out B-movie references and obscure music, then simply look at it through Jules Winnfield's (the immortalized Samuel L. Jackson) desensitized eyes. It will immediately turn into a film of staggering, multi-layered power, and a rough-edged ode towards spiritual redemption and hard-bound honor, which is what the film is really all about, at least in my view.

But do not get me wrong about that 'selective exposure'-type subjective viewing that I have recommended. I mean, it can still be enjoyed in its immediate layer of violence and involving dialogues. But "Pulp Fiction", unlike any other films not just of its kind but of any films in general, gets better every time you dig a little bit deeper. There's little to no doubt why critics have endlessly analyzed the film ranging from its theological relevance to its devilish undercurrents (Did Marsellus Wallace's really sold his soul to the devil?). Many people have since relished all that's been there, surface-wise. Now it's time to further the appreciation.

There have been countless deconstructions, theorizing and analogizing (I'm not even counting how many speculations have been formulated regarding the content of Marsellus Wallace's briefcase) that have occurred and transpired ever since this film claimed one of the uppermost pedestals of postmodern cinema so that it can rightfully stand side-by side with the seminal works of Jean-Luc Godard.

"Pulp Fiction" has also created a colorful, albeit violence-laden, alternate reality where gangsters may kill in cold blood and talk about foot massages and cheeseburgers and rejected TV pilots at the same breath. A parallel but infinitely peculiar netherworld where normal-looking fellows can ably run pawn shops the same way they can also be dangerous homosexual perverts.

But the film, a masterful merging of spontaneous articulacy and empirical pop culture knowledge by Quentin Tarantino, Quentin Tarantino (I just have to mention him twice) and Roger Avary (who both deservedly won an Oscar for the film's unique screenplay), ceased to be just a cynical exploration of the wholeness of crime.

For a film that consists of sex, drugs and violence that blur the boundaries that separate it from the thematic commonalities of a typical B-grade fare, Tarantino and Avary infused their subtly hopeful sides into it to provoke, balance, and substantiate the transgressive nature that they have visually depicted all throughout the film. "Pulp Fiction", with its ironic mixture of cruelty and humanity, displays an unorthodox poise that makes it even more special and, to a certain extent, quite illuminating.

There's not much to say regarding its top-notch all-star cast, with Sam Jackson, John Travolta (as Vincent Vega) and Uma Thurman (as Mia Wallace) delivering the highlight performances, and with Bruce Willis as prizefighter Butch Coolidge serving as our rare glimpse of heroism that may either be self-serving, unconditional or both.

But what really served as the film's transition point from darkness to light is Jules' powerful dual delivery of the "Ezekiel 25:17" Bible verse. Notice his initial delivery that seems to be an oratorical expression of superficial, god-like anger. Then compare it to his enlightened utterance of the said verse in the film's final scenes. For people who may say that "Pulp Fiction" is nothing but a pretentious, overwritten mess that has an almost 3-hour running time but does not even have anything concrete to say at all, take a look at the tonal difference between the two line deliveries and how Jules, in his latter enunciation, stresses the line about how he tries real hard to be a shepherd with glittering conviction. It's just stunning.

Sometimes, it's not mainly the narrative that hands out change, but the characters themselves. Consider Winston Wolf's (Harvey Keitel) unforgettable remark: "Just because you are a character doesn't mean that you have character." Fortunately, Jules surely is and certainly has.

This is one of Kurosawa's finest, and one of the greatest ever. The story was based on the Shakesperean tragedy, "King Lear" and was modified to fit the setting of feudal Japan. It also contains the most beautiful opening scene I've seen, a stunning piece of location that Kurosawa perfectly implied into the background of the opening credits. This film is simply great, Kurosawa's last epic, and one of his most remarkable achievements.

Anthony Minghella's "The Talented Mr. Ripley" has vibrantly shown the eponymous character's descent into controlled insanity. But here in "Ripley's Game", although John Malkovich's portrayal of Tom Ripley was much more ruthless than Matt Damon's, the film unexpectedly delved into the character's resurging conscience and humanity. The film, like its unofficial predecessor, contains actors of great talents, and though Malkovich was perfect as Ripley, Dougray Scott gave the best perormance as the terminally ill picture framer. Tom Ripley is the player, and in his amoral world where art and music converges in an elegant harmony, his murderous con games is ever present, and usually comes with a price. Great piece of cinema.

Considered as Kurosawa's best film, and the gateway for modern action genre. And as usual, Toshiro Mifune is amazing.

More polished and disturbing than "Carne", this full-length continuation of the doomed life of a man only known as "The Butcher" will surely put chills to a viewer's spine as it explores a man's inner struggle against madness. As suggested by the "Warning" sign near the end of the film, the last few minutes are very painful and depressing to watch as the butcher reaches the verge of insanity. The main protagonist's fate was concluded at the beginning of Noe's later film, "Irreversible".

Fairly unique film filled with cobwebs of philosophical questions about life, religion, and the existence of god himself. Another merit of the film is its great depiction of medieval times, the black death, the religious frenzies, and other absurdities of the time. Director Ingmar Bergman has made a film that is important for all people to see, but also made it with his own personal and philosophical thoughts, questioning the validity of christianity at the time. At the end, all the questions are left unanswered, but the film has proved that redemption can be achieved through sacrifice, and that's what Max Von Sydow's character did in the end, exchanging his life for the sake of others.

A heartwarming tale of an enduring friendship inside a prison. This maybe overrated at times, but this is the greatest story ever told on film, and could not be easily forgotten, so thumbs up for me.

Buster Keaton, using his vaudevillian agility, created "Sherlock Jr.", a film so timeless that a modern viewer can watch it and still think it's very clever. With this film, one can conclude that Keaton's antics were far more dangerous and in the leagues to be performed by proper stuntmen compared to Chaplin's, which makes his film(Keaton) very worthwhile not just because of the humor, but the awe-inspiring physical feats. "Sherlock Jr." is a surrealistic comedy, but Buster Keaton never succumbed even once to be called an intellectual hiding some deep symbolism in this picture. He wants audiences to taste straightforward entertainment, while subtly suggesting his eye for detail, precision, and comedic perfection all at the same time.

Just like Alexander Payne's earlier film "About Schmidt", "Sideways" is a road film, a trip for practical purposes of savoring great wines, only for them (Giamatti and Church in exceptional roles) to taste the bitter ends of life instead. Although advertised as comedy, I found "Sideways" to be heavy in its emotions, emotions that are enough for three feature films. I'm not talking about emotional crying scenes, but the simple, natural emotions that are all inclined to express a universal message about friendship, freewill, self-discovery, and of course, love. Beyond the emotions, "Sideways" manages to be quirky when necessary, thus balancing the happiness and despair. One particular scene I liked is the conversation between Miles and Maya about how wines breath life, just how Virginia Madsen delivered it was breathtaking in itself. Paul Giamatti should also have received an Oscar nod, this is even better than his performance in "Cinderella Man".

I look at the year this film was made(1984) and found how well it has aged. Maybe it's the unusual style, or the effortless telling of the story itself, but one thing's for sure, and it's my conclusion that I have really seen something very special. Honestly speaking, after my last viewing of Jarmusch's fiasco "The Limits of Control", I have expected this film to be another pretentious exercise of the said medium: Lots of philosophical nonsense and pseudo-intellectual displays. But quite the contrary, "Stranger Than Paradise" surprised me at how simple its narrative really is, with wide scenes only a quarter filled with its three major characters, but their unorthodox relationship and mutual bond is enough to fill the entire screen with immense presence (although one which is bound by simplicity). It's a slow-moving, observing film, with Jim Jarmusch using black and white to create an unusual sense of emptiness and solitude even in the most mainstream of places(New York, Florida). Black and White color is used vastly in films with different reasons: Be it to conform with budget constraints, to be considered as an artistic expression, or even as simple as a colorization of a flashback in a full-color film. But never has it been mentioned that it's used to transcend a film's time of creation; well, that's the case for "Stranger Than Paradise".

The "American Dream" at the peak of its promises, and the brutal realization of its non-existence. These are the primary themes explored in "Stroszek", one of Werner Herzog's best, and one of the finest films ever made. It's primary concern was to follow Bruno Stroszek, a complete nobody whose pursuit of the comforts America has to offer became initially fruitful, but turned out to be nothing but temporal. Majority of the picture was shot by Herzog with a certain touch of Cinema Verite, and even using non-actors to portray the characters. But the last ten minutes or so was transformed from hard reality to Herzog's trademark weird beauty, with a visible phrase in one scene that can sum up Bruno Stroszek's late realization: "Is this really me!" We have already seen many film protagonists chasing the "American Dream", and many of them, like Joe Buck and Ratso from "Midnight Cowboy", or Wyatt and Billy in "Easy Rider", tumbled down with it. But what's more painful is seeing this elusive dream through foreign eyes, whose only sin was wanting some piece of the sweet life.

The best silent film I have seen, tied maybe with "The Passion of Joan of Arc". It is a simple story of a man, his wife, and a woman from the city. With these characters, F.W. Murnau has molded an expressionistic masterpiece about love lost, and how it can be regained in ways very unexpected. There were countless beautiful shots, particularly the ambitious tracking shot towards the carnival. As the camera glides with gentle, but yet magical movement(The father of the creator of the Steadicam maybe was just only a baby at the time), we see people in an orderly line, side by side, then we see the grand carnival unveil through our eyes, it is a moment of cinematic magic, yet many people today totally ignores these kinds of things a film is made of. The performances doesn't even have sounds, yet their powerfully sublime actions spoke for their characters, actions so effective, that I even do not bother about the title cards anymore. There are so many grand things to tell about this amazing film, but I rest my case, with two thumbs up...

Just like films with the likes of "The Godfather" or "Casino", "Syriana" offers an insider's look on corruption, power, politics, but this time, focuses on the dirty rules of the oil industry's constant tug-of-war. Just like Stephen Gaghan's screenplay in "Traffic", "Syriana" is not a linear narrative, but instead consists of fragments, that in the end, only solidifies the power of the theme of the whole film. While other political thrillers portrays CIA agents as cool, charismatic, and always packed with insurmountable cunning, here, we are shown an overweight middle-aged man with an ignorance of personal grooming, yet reluctant and willing to be the government's foot soldier in perilous missions. It was a radical change in his career direction, but George Clooney showcased the great actor inside him, resulting in the best performance of his career. "Syriana" is a film where we are not allowed to take sides, because there is none, but if sympathy will be evoked, in my opinion, Bob Barnes(George Clooney) and Prince Nasir(Alexander Siddig) deserved it, and as symbolized by their otherworldly glare at each other in the climax, it is as if the film is suggesting that they are both the moral center of a film ironically fueled by corruption. if Greed, according to Gordon Gekko, is good, Syriana suggests that, with an effective delivery by Tim Blake Nelson, "Corruption is why we win". two fearless quotes by two powerful films.

A film review/analysis of what may be the best film ever made:

With its main target being to portray the extremely acute post-Vietnam War angst and disillusionment, director Martin Scorsese focused his lenses and vision to a lone cab driver cruising through the filthy streets of New York that almost alludes to a contemporary 'hell', and subtly articulates about the ambiguous nature of insanity. And the result is, well, not just his masterpiece, but one of the finest films American cinema has to offer. It stars Robert De Niro in a heavily complex (and one of the screen's greatest) performance as Travis Bickle, exhibiting both his mastery of subtle acting and his ever-escalating intensity.

But his Travis Bickle is never just a character. He is a representation. A social mirror of how depression and loneliness exist in a subjugated psychological fragment of society where existence is just for the sake of it, and the meaning of the word 'interaction' a fading afterthought. There are those who do not want to meet any new people save for some of his/her few acquaintances. There are those who do not know people much but is striving to meet some. And then there is Travis.

One of the film's timeless aspects is its disturbing, angry, but ultimately sad narration by Bickle himself. Here's a man who transforms his solitude into an anger-laden vigilantism against the so-called 'filth' of the streets. Here's a man who has nothing but his own breathing body and his own deteriorating psychological health. But at least, here is a man who stood up. But to look at Travis Bickle as a flawed hero is far from what "Taxi Driver" is all about. To look at him as a man with a goal and and a concrete initiative is far from the film's nightmarish view of what Travis Bickle is and what he's in for.

If we'll go into a direct assumption that him saving a young prostitute is a heroic deed, then why haven't they just made "Taxi Driver" into a dramatically redemptive little action movie? The answer is this: the whole 'saving the prostitute' mission he had is, like his existence, just for the sake of it. Looking at Travis's motivational pattern, all of his actions root out from him being rejected by the beautiful campaign worker Betsy (played by Cybill Shepherd).

With him having nowhere to go from there, he went on for a plan to assassinate presidential candidate Charles Palantine, not just to horribly capture the imagination of countless people regarding the fact of how terribly 'far-out' a man can be to do such a thing (John Hinckley Jr. and Mark David Chapman already captured ours in real life) and also to take hold of Betsy's attention. This is where ambiguity regarding his actions really starts to go haywire.

Some would say that his plan to kill Palantine is a condemning act to blame the said candidate for not being able to clean up the city's filth. But take note of their scene inside Travis' cab earlier in the film. Their conversation, although a bit distant in nature, is an honest exchange between two men craving for change. See how Travis' eyes went from being patronizingly phony into deeply-set ones as he stated how he wants someone to just flush all the city's scum down the toilet.

In all fairness, Travis do want some change, but relating this sentiment with his act to kill Palantine for not being able to do so (to do something with the city, that is) is foolish. Just like a common psychologically disturbed fellow resulting from extreme social isolation, Travis dreams of 'grandeur'. He wants to be 'that' man that has purposely killed the presidential candidate, and the people will remember him for it. The same applies to his final ditch effort to save the young prostitute Iris (Jodie Foster in a performance that earned her an early Oscar nomination) from his manipulative pimp (played by the great Harvey Keitel).

Because he failed in his previous plan, and also maybe because he has thought that killing a high-profile political figure may put him into the psychotic row of the history pages, Travis decided to enter the territories of folk heroism and masqueraded himself as an obscure social crusader, albeit an extreme one. Take note of the film's tagline: "On every street in every city, there's a nobody who dreams of being a somebody." Travis Bickle may have achieved cult status as an ideal cinematic anti-hero, but I view him more as nothing but a confused and heavily disillusioned fellow who wants to prove something within himself and to everyone, even if it takes a casualty or two to do it. But although I do not see him as a hero, I see him as a truly sympathetic figure, and a truly saddening one at that.

Scorsese (along with Paul Schrader's masterful screenplay), with his ethereal but deeply unsettling depiction of 70's New York City, enhanced by Bernard Hermann's misleadingly seductive yet menacing musical score, symbolically pushes Travis Bickle into a lonesome spotlight in the middle of a show, only to subsequently find out that audiences are filing out of the venue even before he had the chance to step into the stage. "Taxi Driver" is the manifestation of how he may have hypothetically felt at that moment, and the result is a film of unequaled greatness. Please do watch this film, and let the brilliance of what 'true' cinema is all about pervade within your soul.

A simple story of a greedy oilman and the people around him which he only treats as pawns to feed his desire for success. Daniel Day Lewis richly deserved the Oscar award and this film should have won best picture.

A film set on the city of love, Paris, but the relationship of Brando and Schneider in this film is not lovely, but very tragic. Erotic art in its finest.

A rewatch, from being a weak 4 1/2 stars to a solid 5. One of Hitch's best, and though many blamed James Stewart for the film's initial failure for looking too old, in my opinion, his performance is one of the highlights of this film. Many Alfred Hitchcock films are very likable immediately after seeing them, but "Vertigo", I think is very different, it really requires multiple viewings to fully appreciate.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have finally found the best picture of the year, yes, this is better than "Slumdog Millionaire", which is also a great film, but "The Wrestler" really is better, making it the top film of 2008 for me. The film itself did not have any glamour surrounding it, but instead, it plays like a documentary showing us the life of a professional wrestler. There are many long-tracking shots in the film, always following the protagonist as if the camera is his only true companion. If you see the title of this film, you will first think that it was all about wrestling and nothing more, but once you've finished watching it, it's not about wrestling, it's about a person's life. I have also seen the best performance of 2008, two words: Mickey Rourke. With all the awards and nominations flowing into him, there are no mere words to describe his performance in this brilliant picture. Not nominating this for best picture is a sin for the Academy, but after all, Mickey Rourke's comeback as an actor is one of the best in history, and he's better than ever. Darren Aronofsky once again proved that what makes a film go around is not budget, but it is the heart that is poured into it that makes a film great.

"Y Tu Mama Tambien" runs like a documentary, but its not. It runs like a common movie, but its not. It looks like a semi-documentary, but its not. These are the proofs that this particular film is a very unique one. The performances are great, everyone acted well, especially the three lead cast led by award-winning foreign actor, Gael Garcia Bernal. At first glance, it is no more than a "sex" film, but when you go deeper into the story and the characters, it is indeed a very compelling drama about life. The roadtrip throughout the sandy borders of Mexico is very symbolic and unforgettable. Even right now, I am still in awe about how the actors performed, as if there were no camera, or as if the camera is carried by a friend, whom they don't care much about. The unexpected emotional content of the final scene was very tragic and sad, one I really did not expect, a truly ironic ending. "Y Tu Mama Tambien" is one of those foreign films that everyone should really see, just sit back and watch what life is all about. I can't believe Alfonso Cuaron made "Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban", I thought it was not his league, he must make more films like this, not big blockbuster "movies".