It's not easy for a critic to admit they're wrong, but we here at CinemaSpeak recognize we're only human and our egos aren't that fragile... yet. We each compiled a list of the ten films that have most grown on us since we first saw them. The list's criterion was loose -- the chosen movies aren't necessarily films that made our initial opinions sway 180 degrees. In fact, as you'll read, several of the titles are movies we enjoyed the first time around, but repeated viewings strongly enhanced our appreciation.
Every film on the list (with the possible exception of Dirty Work!) is highly recommended, so stroll down to your local video store, rent a few of our selections and then bombard us with hate mail for steering you so horribly wrong.
(All lists are sorted alphabetically)
Brazil (1985/Dir. Terry Gilliam): I rented this film when I was a kid because I was a big fan of Monty Python and a huge fan of Time Bandits. When it was over, I said to myself, what the hell was that? The film was way over my head and I had no idea what I had just watched. I hated it. In high school, I took a photography class and the teacher screened it for us. It was pure torture and I hated it even more. So, why did I decide to revisit it? I don't know, but I did and it truly is a visionary masterpiece. I even threw down $60 and bought the 3-disc DVD (a must-own for any fan of the film). Maybe I was too young at the time. Maybe I was too in to the big Hollywood blockbusters and didn't want to give something different a chance. I'm glad that I did.
Casino (1995/Dir. Martin Scorsese): Being a great admirer of Martin Scorsese and
a Vegas fanatic, this was my most anticipated film of 1995. I'll
admit that from the get-go I enjoyed it and found the filmmaking
to be flawless, but in the back of my mind, I knew that the master
was working on autopilot. Everything about it screamed Goodfellas
Pt. 2, from the style to the music to Pesci's identical performance.
While Casino is far from the achievement that Goodfellas
is, it's still an entertaining and exciting trip through the history
of Vegas and something that I'll take over watered down crap like
The Age of Innocence any day of the week.
Dawn of the Dead (1978/Dir. George Romero): I'll state
it right here: The second chapter in George Romero's Dead
trilogy is one of the best satires and the second best horror
movie (after Evil Dead 2) ever made. This is a film that
I should have liked as a kid (what with all the gore and all),
but the first time that I saw it at my cousin's house, I had no
interest. I wasn't scared or anything, it just seemed stupid.
In high school, I had a friend, who wouldn't shut up about it,
so I had him loan me the tape. I was blown away. They sure don't
make 'em like this anymore (as the recent Resident Evil
proves). Studios keep this in mind: If you don't have Romero in
the driver's seat, don't attempt a zombie film.
The Empire Strikes Back (1980/Dir. Irvin Kershner): This
was always one of my favorites as a kid, but it never touched
Star Wars. Throughout the years I would hear from people
that it was the best of the series, but I could never accept it.
After revisiting the "wholly" trilogy during the theatrical
re-releases a few years ago, I'm willing to submit to the fact
that The Empire Strikes Back is indeed the best of the
series and quite possibly the best sequel ever made.
Eyes Wide Shut (1999/Dir. Stanley Kubrick): I know that I'll take some heat for this one, because everybody hates it with a passion. Well, I never hated it, but the first time that I saw it, I was bored to death and couldn't understand what Kubrick was going for. When I walked out of the theater, I didn't want to flat out dismiss it like the other ten people in my group, because I was intrigued throughout, but I definitely wasn't satisfied. I bought the DVD the day it came out and sat on the couch for the entire two-and-a-half hours and was mesmerized the whole time. I'm still not going to call it a great film or one of Kubrick's best, but it's not the boring travesty that everyone, myself included, originally thought it was.
Once Upon a Time in America (1984/Dir. Sergio Leone): Granted, I first saw this epic portrait of the Jewish mob in New York when I was 12 and it was the truncated two-and-a-half hour version (which makes no logical sense at all). I've since watched the full four-hour version several times and it's a beautifully made and acted gangster epic, second only to The Godfather in terms of the crime genre. This truly is one of Sergio Leone's masterpieces.
Out of Sight (1998/Dir. Steven Soderbergh): I saw this in a Las Vegas theater after suffering a major loss at the blackjack tables. It was during the middle of the summer, so the theater was hot-as-hell and I obviously had other things on my mind. The movie seemed like watered-down Tarantino, it was slow and I was bored. Boy, was I wrong. I figured that I owed it another chance because there were so many elements that I did like. The second time, everything clicked and it is now my favorite Soderbergh film to date. I guess that monetary losses and uncomfortable theater conditions can ruin a great film.
This Is Spinal Tap (1984/Dir. Rob Reiner): I first saw this on cable one night and not only
didn't I laugh once, I didn't even crack a smile. All that I can
say is I was young and naïve and just didn't get it. I had
no idea what Rob Reiner was trying to accomplish. I gave it another
chance about ten years later and laughed my ass off. As we all
know, this is a comedy classic that paved the way for what we
now know as the mockumentary. I love this film and can and do
sit through it quite often.
True Lies (1994/Dir. James Cameron): A great action movie
marred by a miscalculated middle half-hour that stopped the film
dead in its tracks. These were my first thoughts upon exiting
the theater the first time that I saw True Lies. The whole
subplot with Arnold spying on Bill Paxton and Jamie Lee Curtis
killed me and it didn't belong in this hard action movie. Was
this supposed to be a comedy? This part of the film has since
grown on me (especially Paxton's hilarious performance) and while
it still seems that James Cameron made two movies in one, it's
two highly entertaining ones that come together to create one
of the funniest and best action films to date.
Wild at Heart (1990/Dir. David Lynch): Several factors hyped me up beyond belief before I first saw David Lynch's Wild at Heart. I was a huge Blue Velvet fan, it won best picture at the Cannes film festival and I read the amazing book that it was based on. The film that I saw wasn't what I expected. It was boring, rambling and nonsensical. It was weird for the sake of being weird (something that Lynch would excel at with Lost Highway and Mulholland Dr.). Like Eyes Wide Shut, I didn't like it at first, but I was intrigued and couldn't get the film and its bizarre images out of my head. I reluctantly went back for seconds and the rest is history. This film now places second (after Blue Velvet) in the cannon of Lynch's films. It's funny, shocking and twisted and I love every second of it. Lynch's world truly is wild at heart and weird on top.
The Big Lebowski (1998/Dir. Joel Coen): I was so looking forward to this that I guess it was only natural to have the so-so reaction at first viewing. However, upon repeated viewings, I realize this is a warped classic, with the underrated Jeff Bridges in a career performance.
Boogie Nights (1997/Dir. Paul Thomas Anderson): I saw this film originally at a market research screening and I think I was overcome with finding things I didn't like about the movie (which seems the nature of that beast) instead of just watching the film and enjoying. I saw it three times in the theater when it finally came out, and now appreciate its greatness.
Bulworth (1998/Dir. Warren Beatty): Not sure what happened here. Maybe it was the rap subplot, or the heavy-handed final third. But, this has become a frequent screening in my home, and I think it is one of the greatest political satires ever made. Beatty is great, and much credit must be given to all of the creative people behind this for making a political film that actually has the balls to say something.
Day of the Jackal (1973/Dir. Fred Zinnemann): Slow, methodical, and sometimes tedious, but gloriously so. I saw it years ago, before I appreciated cinema and it's potential. This is an amazing film about an assassin and his day-to-day process. Or maybe it was sitting through the lame Hollywood remake with Willis and Gere...
Mad Dog and Glory (1993/Dir. John McNaughton): Just expected something else the first time. Subsequent viewings reveal the great character development, subtle writing, and pitch perfect performances. Mike Starr is a great, underrated character actor, and Bill Murray and Robert De Niro switching character types is fun to watch.
Nixon (1995/Dir. Oliver Stone): I am somewhat of a political history buff, and am eternally fascinated with the Shakespearean style demise of Richard Nixon. On the first viewing, I was too caught up in the film's "juggle the facts" approach, but now simply realize it is great filmmaking. Hopkins, an odd choice to play Nixon, has played many Shakespearean characters, and brings that vision to the character. Just like JFK, you have to appreciate it as a film, not a documentary.
Ocean's Eleven (1960/Dir. Lewis Milestone): The original, not the remake. When I first watched it, I thought it was so slow and tedious that I could barely take it. The second viewing revealed a fun buddy movie, and I enjoyed it very much. Still somewhat slow, but Dean and Frank and Sammy and Peter and Joey and... well, you get the picture.
Pulp Fiction (1994/Dir. Quentin Tarantino): Another victim of pre-release hype I think, but I now recognize the film as the visionary showstopper that it is.
Tin Men (1987/Dir. Barry Levinson): I saw this when I was 17 in the theater, and was bored. I was an idiot. This is one of the best written screenplays of recent years, and a real, truly believable tale of two men in a traffic accident and the resulting confrontations. The subplot involving the two men's Tin Men scams is fascinating, and legitimately brings these two full circle. Funny, brilliant, and Danny DeVito and Richard Dreyfuss have never been better.
What About Bob? (1991/Dir. Frank Oz): I love Bill Murray. Bill Murray is a God, plain and simple. This movie just didn't work for me the first time. I can't explain why. But now I see the error of my ways, and made baby steps back to my sanity.
Blood Simple (1984/Dir. Joel Coen): A film that gets better with every viewing. Because the Coen Bros. do such a great job of creating a tense, moody atmosphere, it's easy for this movie's comedy to not register at first. A darkly comic twist on the film noir genre, which features the Coen Bros. trademark visual wizardry, although it's not as flamboyant as it would be in their next two films Raising Arizona and, especially, Miller's Crossing.
Boogie Nights (1997/Dir. Paul Thomas Anderson): Another film that's sense of humor was partially lost on me during my initial viewing. I was too caught up in the movie's scope and Scorsese like camera work to fully appreciate the comic bumbling of Dirk Diggler, Reed Rothchild, Jack Horner and crew. A film I used to quote on a daily basis.
Dirty Work (1998/Dir. Bob Saget): Goodbye credibility! I remember first watching this film on cable with a roommate, who was one of the five or so people that actually paid to see this in the theater, and thought it was about the lowest form of cinematic comedy yet invented. It's every bit as moronic now as it was then (perhaps even more so), so if you have an intellectual reputation to uphold, view this one solo. Fortunately, I'm not highbrow enough to pass up this sinfully Stupid (yes, the capital S is intentional) fun. Boy, do I hope my future enemies never get a hold of this information.
Heavenly Creatures (1994/Dir. Peter Jackson): I certainly liked this film the first time around, but I wasn't quite sure what to make of the "daydream/hallucination" sequences. A few viewings later, there wasn't a single thing about this movie that I didn't find devastatingly effective. A thrilling, disturbing work that forced the film world to take Peter Jackson seriously. From what I gather, he's not doing so bad these days.
Man Bites Dog (1992/Dir. Remy Belvaux, Andre Bonzel, Benoit Poelvoorde): When I saw this film in the theater, it was late, I didn't feel like reading subtitles and I probably dozed off for a good 15-20 minutes. After checking this Belgian flick out on video several times in the following years, I'll state for the record that Man Bites Dog is one of my five favorite films of the 90's. A twisted (understatement!) comedy that speaks the truth about the human fascination with media manipulated violence. Oliver Stone tried to make the same statement in Natural Born Killers, but failed to see through his own noxious self-importance and failed miserably.
Mean Streets (1973/Dir. Martin Scorsese): As a Scorsese neophyte in the late 80's, I rented this video and was promptly bored to death. I revisited it primarily because I kept reading that it was the director's most personal work; a film that hit so close to home that he was unable to even watch it. Mean Streets is the film where Scorsese most clearly cites his French New Wave influences (especially early Truffaut), meaning that he liberally forgoes traditional storytelling in favor of deep characterizations, tone and atmosphere. Definitely my favorite performance by Harvey Keitel and one of Robert De Niro's best too.
Repo Man (1984/Dir. Alex Cox): One of the most original comedies ever. Period. And that's why this film, which on the surface just seems to be a weird, sci-fi, punk rock movie, originally baffled me. Well, it's still all of those things, but Repo Man takes a step back to laugh at itself, while sharply poking fun at consumer culture. Harry Dean Stanton's performance as the cagey, veteran car repossessor Bud (two of his colleagues are named Miller and Lite) should've turned him into a bigger star. I'm embarrassed to admit how much dialogue I can quote from this film.
Shock Corridor (1963/Sam Fuller): I saw Shock Corridor for the first time in a college film criticism class and while it entertained me, I wasn't quite sure why Sam Fuller had earned his lofty reputation. Upon reflection, I'd argue that to really appreciate Fuller's films, you need be well versed in his body of work and there's no better place to start than this bare knuckles brawl of a movie. Peter Breck gives a deliciously over-the-top performance as a journalist who checks himself into an insane asylum in hopes of solving a murder that will result in a Pulitzer Prize winning article. Rarely has so much raw cinematic energy been harnessed so well.
Stranger Than Paradise (1984/Jim Jarmusch): Stranger Than Paradise is perhaps the only Jim Jarmusch film that I enjoy as much as I respect. It wasn't always that way though; it takes quite a bit of patience to sit through any Jarmusch film and this is definitely one of his most slowly paced efforts, but the interaction between the film's three characters (not to mention the beautiful static black and white compositions) is so engaging because it finds charm in the doldrums of everyday life. One of the most anti-Hollywood American movies I've ever seen and one of my favorite films of the 80's.
The Sweet Hereafter (1997/Atom Egoyan): The first film that came to mind when trying to assemble this list. The Sweet Hereafter confused me initially, as I was at a loss to understand how a film dealing with such a tragic subject could feel so cold. What I first perceived as coldness is actually a brilliant distancing technique employed by director Atom Egoyan. He allows the audience an opportunity to experience this film completely free of emotional manipulation. Egoyan totally understands that emotional investment is most powerful when stemming from cerebral analysis. For melodramatic saps like Frank Darabont, this film should be required viewing.
Casino (1995/Dir. Martin Scorsese): At first glance, this seemed to be the same old same old for Scorsese. After renting the video, I was able to enjoy the complexities of the story and appreciate the performances. By the way, Sharon Stone was never this good before, and hasn't been as good since. Sure, she played a role that didn't call for a great range, but she fit the part perfectly.
Office Space (1999/Dir. Mike Judge): I think this is one of those films that plays better on a TV set than on the big screen. I saw it in the theater at first, and I don't remember laughing out loud as much as I do now. Best moment: Jennifer Aniston getting out of Peter's car (they're having a fight because she slept with Bill Lumberg, Peter's boss), as she is slamming the door shut, he yells, "SAY HELLO TO (DOOR SLAMS) LUMBERG FOR ME!"
The Quick and The Dead (1995/Dir. Sam Raimi): When this came out, I really wasn't much into the Sam Raimi. I'm not sure I understood exactly what the film was going for. After repeated viewings on cable TV, (I am TNT's bitch) I find it a quirky, fun western. The clock tower explosion still makes me excited.
Raising Arizona (1987/Dir. Joel Coen): You've got to admit, the first time you saw a Coen Brothers film, you didn't know quite what to make of it all. Only after seeing my favorite Coen Brothers film, Miller's Crossing, did I go back and realize what a great film this is. The convenience store robbery chase is near the top of my all-time chase list.
Rounders (1998/Dir. John Dahl): Sacrilege, but I really didn't like it at first. To me, there were a few good moments that were outweighed by the incredibly bad ones (Gretchen Mol, I'm looking in your direction). Now, the good moments have become incredible ones that make the bad parts seem a lot better. I'm not sure there's a movie that makes me want to do something as much as Rounders makes me want to play cards.
Rushmore (1998/Dir. Wes Anderson): It's not that I didn't like Rushmore, but it's one of those movies that just gets better each time I see it. Is there a more classic moment than, "Were you in the shit?" "I was in the shit."
The Spanish Prisoner (1997/Dir. David Mamet): Frankly, the first time I saw this film, it bored the shit out of me, right up to the end. After a few runs on IFC, I got into this film in a big way. The entire third act is simply brilliant.
State of Grace (1990/Dir. Phil Joanou): I first caught it on cable, and it looked like another cop drama. I found myself completely drawn in, and made a point to catch it the next time it was on. I now own the video, laserdisc, and am always on the lookout for the DVD. It's one of my top ten of all time, and the gunfight at the end still gives me the chills.
Unforgiven (1992/Dir. Clint Eastwood): I thought it was just another western, and believed it was the Academy's biggest mistake of my adult life, until I rented it a few years after it won the Oscar. I can't believe what an ass I was. Defining exchange: Bill, "I don't deserve this!" William, "Deserves got nothin' to do with it."
Sleepless in Seattle (1993/Dir. Nora
Ephron): Shut the hell
up.
If you think your list can hang with ours (doubtful), post it
in the Forums.
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