If you are of the opinion that “best of” film lists are a futile exercise in quantifying the unquantifiable, you are partly correct. If the point of the Sight & Sound poll were simply to establish an unimpeachable canon rather than to spark conversation and track changes in critical thought, I would (again, partly) agree with the people scoffing at it. But the poll is a starting point, not an end. It’s a wonderful opportunity to engage with films that are new to you, or to engage with familiar films in new ways. With the influx of new and historically marginalized voices joining the critical conversation, there’s never been a more exciting time to discuss “The Greatest Films of All Time.”
I did not contribute to this year’s poll, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give you my own list. I avoided “obvious” choices like Seven Samurai or 2001: A Space Odyssey (the canon I grew up with, and impeccable choices in their own right), choosing instead to focus on films that have affected me so deeply that they make up my own personal canon. This list is a ranking, yes, but it is also an autobiography. These films hold a piece of me in them, and I carry them with me through life like sparkling gems in my pocket. They make my world a little brighter, a little bigger, and a little better.
The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928) - Renée Falconetti gives perhaps the finest performance ever captured on film in Carl Theodor Dreyer’s masterpiece of religious ecstasy and hypocrisy. The last time I saw this film was half a lifetime ago, and even if I never revisit it (which I absolutely will, and soon), I will never forget those rapturous close-ups of Falconetti’s martyred face.
The Night of the Hunter (1955) - Charles Laughton’s sole directorial outing, The Night of the Hunter shows a true artist at work, with its unique melding of horror and noir through a German expressionist fairy tale lens. It’s one of the biggest Hollywood tragedies that Laughton’s film was so poorly received at the time that he never worked as a feature director again. Imagine what other classics we could have had!
Nashville (1975) - Robert Altman’s sprawling tale of fame, greed, and betrayal is one of the quintessential American films. It’s hard to choose just one Altman movie for a list like this (I was tempted to swap out his shaggy neo-noir The Long Goodbye), but the epic scope of Nashville — and the genius way that Altman and writer Joan Tewkesbury connect the myriad dots of its wide-ranging story — more than earns it a high spot on this list.
Possession (1981) - While Renée Falconetti may give the best film performance of all time, Isabelle Adjani certainly gives the most fearless one in Andrzej Żuławski’s Possession. Adjani and Sam Neill give themselves over, heart and soul, to this endlessly confounding story of love and monsters. It’s an unforgettable film experience, and the most authentic on-screen depiction of divorce I’ve ever seen.
L’Atalante (1934) - The very definition of “poetry in motion,” Jean Vigo’s final film (and his only feature) finds soaring beauty in the most mundane of places. The film’s captivating and truly original visuals make it all the more tragic that Vigo died shortly after its release. Like The Night of the Hunter, L’Atalante is a study in what might have been.
The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964) - Jacques Demy’s candy-colored musical is one of cinema’s greatest love stories and one of its greatest tales about aging, loss, and the things we have to give up when life interferes with our plans. The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is a film of pure feeling, baring the hearts of its characters and letting them bleed on the screen so that we can find the truth in their intimate vulnerability.
Peeping Tom (1960) - Michael Powell’s groundbreaking horror film is another on this list that ruined its director’s career. Audiences in 1960 weren’t prepared for this bold and nervy indictment of the viewer as complicit in the actions of a voyeuristic murderer who kills the very women his camera lingers on with desire. Brash, brilliant, and eternally underrecognized, Peeping Tom is a perfect film.
Vampyr (1932) - A fascinating bridge between the silent and the sound eras, Vampyr is the second film from Carl Theodor Dreyer on my list. The ingenious special effects and the astonishing command of mood and tone make this vampire tale not only one of the finest horror films ever made, but one of the finest films ever made, period.
Suspiria (1977) - Quite possibly the most beautiful horror film of all time, Suspiria is a masterpiece of color and sound. Director Dario Argento and cinematographer Luciano Tovoli birth a neon nightmare; a fairy tale of screaming fluorescence that still looks unlike any other film ever made. Goblin’s score remains one of the eeriest in film history, and one that instantly transports you to Argento’s hyper-real world of ballerinas and witches.
Belladonna of Sadness (1973) - I chose the films on my list based not on intellect or “objectivity,” whatever that may mean when describing a completely subjective list of “best” films, but on emotion and my own personal experiences with the films. Belladonna of Sadness is one of the most eye-opening movies I’ve ever had the pleasure to discover. Its psychedelic and lyrical animation explore sexual assault through an empathetic and highly feminist lens. It’s one of the few movies in the past few years to widen my idea of what cinema can do, and for that reason alone it deserves a spot in my top ten.
I'll Play, Too
Great article and list. Going to Letterboxd to add #5 and 10 to my watchlist.