Film gets me where I live like little else and has done ever since I was a teenager. It’s almost impossible to pick just 10 films to stand in for over a century of my favourite form of artistic expression, so what follows are a combination of groundbreaking, ageless films and the most personally impactful cinematic works for me, today. 

Follow me on X (Twitter) – @SSPThinksFilm

10. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse Review

This one’s a twofer. I love animation and I love superhero movies, and Spider-Verse is one of the finest examples of both to release in the last decade.

After being bitten by a radioactive spider, awkward teen Miles Morales (Shameik Moore) is thrust into inter-dimensional superherodom when his universe’s Spider-Man is killed in action. Miles must overcome self-doubt and team up with the many very different spider-people from other realities to stop his, and all other worlds, from being destroyed. 

Animation is cinema, it has the potential to visualise anything you can imagine, and while I could have picked any number of films from Studio Ghibli, Laika, Disney or Pixar, nothing else was as revolutionary and influential to the medium’s aesthetic than Sony Picture Animation’s Spider-Verse in recent years. This didn’t look or feel quite like anything else, a living comic book packed with pleasing details and gags referring back to print mediums and constant movement and dynamism. 

Few adaptations of popular characters manage to sum up their very essence with a single perfect phrase, but this film distils it all with “anybody can wear the mask”. So many superhero movies get the basics fundamentally wrong, but this gets it just so right – Spider-Man has always had incredible powers but struggled to balance his superhero responsibilities with everyday ones, and the same goes if you’re a dual heritage teenager, a cartoon pig or a black-and-white detective voiced by Nicolas Cage.

Recommended for you: Spider-Man Movies Ranked

9. The Wizard of Oz (1939)

The titanic cultural influence of the MGM fantasy musical The Wizard of Oz is often criminally overlooked. Musicals speak to me as a form of extroverted expression I could never hope to take part in myself, but Oz also stands for the whole fantasy genre.

This rough adaptation of L. Frank Baum’s children’s fantasy novel follows young Dorothy Gale (instant star Judy Garland), a Kansas dreamer who is swept away to the magical land of Oz by a tornado where she is persecuted by the Wicked Witch of the West (Margaret Hamilton, still terrifying) as she quests to find her way home.

It wasn’t just the way film musicals were staged for decades it inspired, either. Next time you watch Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings Trilogy and see the orc armies marching past the gates of Mordor, think about how similar the blocking and the aesthetic is to the patrols outside the Wicked Witch’s castle.  Speaking of the Wicked Witch, you know the classic green-skinned, warty-nosed, pointy-chinned default look for such characters at Halloween? That comes from this film as well. And Margaret Hamilton’s all-timer of a baddie performance in contrast to the uncomplicated good of Dorothy and her companions is still one to behold. 

The “it was all a dream, or was it?” story structure is clichéd now, but this helped start it all. Startling Technicolor fantasy is kept entirely separate from sepia reality (the moment one world becomes the other still takes your breath away), but there is always that playful, winking final scene for you to hope that Dorothy perhaps has further adventures on her horizon. 

Vertigo (1958)
Director: Alfred Hitchcock
Screenwriter: Alec Coppel, Samuel A. Taylor
Starring: James Stewart, Kim Novak, Barbara Bel Geddes, Tom Helmore, Henry Jones

The name “Alfred Hitchcock” carries a level of prestige that makes it difficult to view his films with anything but an overwhelming weight of expectation. He has been praised as a master of the craft by most filmmakers and critics with any right to bestow such a title, and the breadth of films that can be traced back to him by a line of direct influence is astronomical. His 1958 film Vertigo is one that carries a particular weight of its own. In 2012 it was crowned number one in Sight & Sound’s prestigious critics poll, the Greatest Films of All Time list, ending a fifty-year reign of Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane and becoming only the third film to top the poll since its inception in 1952. Vittoria De Sica’s Bicycle Thieves was its inaugural champion.

If any one film can be used as an example of just how far and wide Hitchcock’s influence spreads, then Vertigo is a solid choice. Fans of David Lynch will notice a dreamy familiarity in Mulholland Drive, whereas Tommy Wiseau enthusiasts might find their ears perk up when a protagonist named Johnny asks a friend whose name begins with M how their love life is. The San Francisco backdrop also helps make the case that The Room was probably made with some reverence for Vertigo, even if it did turn out to be terribly different.

Starting with a situation that has since become a trope in its own right, we meet Johnny, played by James Stewart, who has just retired as a police detective following a traumatic incident which led to him finding out that he has acrophobia, an extreme fear of heights. There are a few dead giveaways of Vertigo’s age in its highly expositional dialogue – it is almost reminiscent of ‘Alfred Hitchcock Presents’, the director’s mystery anthology TV show. Midge (Barbara Bel Geddes) stands out early on as a character who is essential in highlighting Johnny’s flaws – she’s intelligent, supportive, and completely wasted on someone so self-centred and easily distracted by his own shortcomings.

An old college classmate, Gavin Elster played by Tom Helmore, asks Johnny, or Scottie as he’s known to his acquaintances, for help with a personal matter. His wife, Madeleine (Kim Novak), has been acting strangely lately, to the point that he’s starting to believe she may have been possessed by a dead family member, and he wants Johnny to follow her to find out what’s going on. It all goes wrong when the two find a special connection with one another.

Although upon release The Hollywood Reporter described Vertigo as “One of the most fascinating love stories ever filmed,” what it actually grows into is a story of blind obsession. Johnny doesn’t care about the woman in front of him nearly as much as he cares about his own idea of who that woman should be. The mastery of craft behind it begins to shine through in dialogue that becomes equally as brilliant as it is heartbreaking – it almost seems as if the early exposition exists to set our expectations at a level that allows us to be blown away later on.

As would be expected from a Hitchcock thriller, there are twists and turns that take the clues laid out in front of us to unusual heights. Although the term is associated with a more derogatory meaning since Martin Scorsese’s criticism of the superhero genre went viral, Vertigo is essentially a theme park movie. Everything exists to create an experience of shock and awe, but where it differs from the typical modern interpretation of how to achieve those emotions is that it appeals to them on an intellectual level. We have to take an active role in Vertigo because our thought processes about what’s happening are part of the narrative itself.

Perhaps that’s why Vertigo is so revered today. It exists in a space occupied by multiple forms of entertainment – it has the highs and lows of a rollercoaster, the audience participation of a magic show, and the love plot of a Danielle Steel novel – but it is also a tremendous piece of art in its own right.

Vertigo wasn’t always held on such a universal pedestal, though. Writing in The New Yorker upon the film’s initial release, John McCarten described it as “far-fetched nonsense”, and other magazines at the time were even more scathing in dismissing it as little more than fantastical dross. Even Sight & Sound’s editor, Penelope Houston, was fairly cold on it, writing that its plot was of “egg-shell thinness” and that “One is agreeably used to Hitchcock repeating his effects, but this time he is repeating himself in slow motion.”

Vertigo’s rise to a status that can command the top spot on the Greatest Films of All Time poll that she was instrumental in setting up is partly attributable to the reputation of Alfred Hitchcock as a filmmaker changing over the years. Although difficult to imagine now, he wasn’t always considered a serious artist. It wasn’t until the French New Wave movement, spearheaded by François Truffaut and Jean-Luc Godard, that Hitchcock began to be given the grace of a closer look. In drawing inspiration from his work and giving credit where it’s due, Hitchcock’s use of suspense, his focus on his characters’ psychological states, and his innovative camerawork were finally lauded as more than just consequential elements in throwaway entertainment.

Vertigo is therefore arguably Alfred Hitchcock’s greatest achievement on volume alone. Everything that could have been reassessed as Hitchcock the Auteur rather than just Hitchcock the Entertainer is present, and to a degree that makes it a perfect case study for how perception changes art.

Score: 21/24

Recommended for you: Top 10 Alfred Hitchcock Films

Written by Rob Jones

You can support Rob Jones on his website: rbrtjones.com
Twitter: @rbrtjones

It’s a Wonderful Life (1946)
Director: Frank Capra
Screenwriters: Frances Goodrich, Albert Hackett, Frank Capra
Starring: James Stewart, Donna Reed, Lionel Barrymore, Thomas Mitchell, Henry Travers

Despite it bombing and falling short of its budget in its initial box office run in 1946, It’s a Wonderful Life has slowly and surely grown in popularity over the years. Mostly thanks to television syndication (through which it was annually broadcast at every yuletide), Frank Capra’s financial disaster has morphed into sell-out re-releases in cinemas across the globe. On this, its 75th birthday, It’s a Wonderful Life can enjoy its status as the favourite Christmas film of many a generation.

As the first production of the short-lived Liberty Films, a company formed by director Frank Capra, William Wyler and George Stevens, It’s a Wonderful Life was intended to be a film of conscience to soothe the traumatised masses in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War. Yet strangely its relevance hasn’t waned. In fact, adoration for this film is probably at an all time high…

For its youngest audiences, the portrayed lives of George Bailey (James Stewart) and Mary Hatch (Donna Reed) are parallel to those of their Great Grandparents (or even Great Great Grandparents), but surprisingly no element of relatability has been lost. Film is an art form, and like all great works of art, it should be an effective snapshot of the time it was created in. It’s a Wonderful Life provides an insight into the lives of these very relatives, giving a deeper understanding and appreciation of these people we may have never met but to whom we owe our very existences. The film’s continuing and growing popularity can also be attributed to its sincerity and earnestness: this isn’t only a story true to the spirit of Christmas but a film with a philosophy and message that has managed to resonate throughout the decades.

The urban myth surrounding the origins of It’s a Wonderful Life is that inspiration for the story came from a greetings card. In reality, Philip Van Doren Stern failed to get a publisher for his short story “The Greatest Gift”, so instead printed it onto Christmas cards to give to friends and family. This method of distribution eventually turned the relevant heads in Hollywood and the rights were bought by RKO. It passed through several hands and endured several rewrites resulting in a very different story to what was eventually produced, such as the starring role almost going to Cary Grant. It eventually landed in the lap of Frank Capra to become the auspicious return to Hollywood for both Capra and the film’s star, James Stewart, both of whom had dedicated themselves to the war effort, directing documentaries and training videos and serving in the US Army respectively.

It’s a Wonderful Life has become such a famous part of Hollywood’s Golden Era, its plot is familiar even to those who have never seen it. The story revolves around the character George Bailey (James Stewart) who lives in the fictional town of Bedford Falls in Upstate New York. Like millions of others, George is a typical member of the middle classes of the early 20th century in small-town America, but through the revelation of his life-story it is shown that George Bailey is anything but typical. George grew up with fierce and grand ambitions but instead of exploring the world as he had always dreamed of, he unwittingly found himself chained to a desk at a penny-counting job he hates at his late father’s Bailey Bros. Building and Loan company. This turn of events cannot be fully attributed to random unforeseen circumstances such as his father’s sudden death or falling in love with his childhood sweetheart, but instead through selflessness and moments of moral courage taken by George himself. The Bailey Building and Loan is not just a small time building society: it is the single institute that stands between Bedford Falls and the inexhaustible greedy machinations of local Millionaire, Henry F. Potter (Lionel Barrymore), and George knows this. The building society created by his father and uncle has allowed for the working class of Bedford Falls to be able to buy their own homes and escape the extortionate privately rented slums owned by Potter. And, with no one else competent enough to keep the family business going, George knows his abandonment of the company would effectively be throwing these same working masses to the wolves. He knows that Potter wouldn’t mind seeing these same people starve on the streets.

Despite having to extinguish the burning desire to stretch his wings and fly, life still isn’t too horrid for George as he lives within the warm arms of a caring community and loving family, with his wife Mary at the heart of it. This simple life marked by George’s altruism eventually takes its toll. On the fateful Christmas Eve at the epicentre of the film’s plot, $8000 dollars from the Building and Loan’s funds is misplaced, and as the bank examiner is in town, this big hole in the books will not go amiss. As George and Uncle Billy struggle to recover the missing thousands, the consequences of this accident begin to dawn on George: bankruptcy, scandal and prison. When considering his young family, this burden becomes insurmountable, leading George to contemplate ending his own life. It is at this moment in which the answer to the town’s prayers arrives in the form of the Clarence Oddbody, bringing with him the most unforgettable moments in cinema when granting George’s wish of never being born.

Underneath its Christmassy exterior, It’s a Wonderful Life is a delightfully deceptive movie filled with illusions. Although it screams originality, the story is essentially an updated version of Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” with ghostly apparitions and alternate realities to boot. It delves into dark themes such as poverty, death and suicide, yet it is considered family viewing and is famous for its many lighter moments.

In dissecting It’s a Wonderful Life to try to understand its outstanding popularity, one has to consider the writing and the philosophy that shines out from the film. It doesn’t take much research to find out that the writing process was chaotic. The story had passed through several hands by the time it reached Capra’s team, and apparently the husband and wife writing duo of Goodrich and Hackett did not get along well with Capra who secretly rewrote much of their script, much to their anger. Despite this deception, and the fact that this was the first and only time Capra had contributed to a script, the end result remains impressive, especially as it conveys a consistent philosophy throughout: celebrating the magnificence of ordinary life.

Before the war, Frank Capra’s most famous works were screwball comedies such as It Happened One Night (1934) and comedy-dramas including Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936) and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939), each of which tend to share similar themes and characteristics to It’s a Wonderful Life: the mixing of whimsy with moments of sobriety, and of course the victory of the underdog over the big bad (which is usually a manifestation of the rich and powerful). Simple moments from life are taken and illuminated to reveal the little joys that can be found within our own lives. One such a moment comes in witnessing a soaked George and Mary walking home from George’s younger brother Harry’s high school graduation party where they accidentally fell into the swimming pool whilst dancing. Singing off-key in the streets, wearing nothing but stolen oversized clothed from lost and found, throwing rocks at an abandoned house, this is where George and Mary’s love begins to flower, as it has in similar moments for normal people throughout history.

What differs It’s a Wonderful Life to its pre-war counterparts is: despite its reputation as an uplifting and inspiring film, a very dark tone bleeds throughout. Even in comparison to Mr. Smith Goes to Washington in which the titular Smith is pitted against the corrupt system of the American political machine, George Bailey’s struggles against Mr Potter and indeed the evils of ordinary life feels so much more harrowing. No longer do the stakes within Capra’s movies feel as if they are there for spectacle, they instead appear to be a reflection of the horror and tragedy of reality. Capra even uses comedy to consolidate George’s pathetic circumstances, such as in the moment George realises Clarence, his supposed guardian angel, is only a second-class one.

“Well, you look about the kind of angel I’d get.”

Additionally, his expert timing is used to induce painful whiplash. George and Mary’s aforementioned wicked fun on the streets of Bedford Falls is cut drastically short as George’s family calls him home as his Father had just suffered a stroke. How true to the diametric highs and lows of real life.

Considering the time in which the film was made, it is not surprising that Capra’s work experienced such a tonal shift: Capra, alongside everyone else in the world, would have been shocked and appalled beyond belief by the atrocities that were unearthed during the war. The depiction of such exquisite despair turning into hope and joy required expertise beyond just writing – Capra’s direction drew upon all elements of production to create this masterpiece. Standing as a very expensive independent movie (notably, the set for Bedford Falls is still one of the largest film sets ever assembled with the main street being 300 yards long), it was in no small part Capra’s creativity that assembled a film that feels oddly modern.

Now a popular trope of contemporary cinema, over half of It’s a Wonderful Life is told in flashback, a fairly uncommon tactic only used by the boldest of directors of the time. Its use here gives us an all-encompassing bird’s eye (or heaven’s) view of George’s life, creating an act of deception in which a 2 hour run-time feels like a man’s entire life story. This narrative structure also ensures that we can’t help but to fall in love with George as we witness his private moments of frustration and anger, each highlighting the cost of every one of his sacrifices. Capra also indulged in the use of freeze frames before they were popularised – in that era of filmmaking, freeze-frames were used as part of a fantasy sequence, such as when time is frozen in A Matter of Life and Death (1946) as opposed to an editing technique. Capra used it as an opportunity to emphasise important details within the story, specifically through the medium of the unseen Joseph narrating George’s life to Clarence. There hasn’t been a film with narration released in the three quarters of a century since that doesn’t use the same technique.

Another first-time innovation worthy of note, especially because of its unexpected visceral power, is the snow. It’s a Wonderful Life was filmed in the summer on a sound stage, so of course the snow isn’t real.  Before 1946, falling snow seen on film was cornflakes painted white, and as one would expect the result was a lot of unwanted sound. Capra was very keen on recording the film’s sound live on set, and as such a way to make silent snow had to be found. The answer to Capra’s demand came in the shape of a mixture of foamite, soap and water being pumped through a wind machine at high pressure. Is there a more peaceful, natural silence than a winter’s night where the noise of the world is muffled by the fall of snow? The creation of this silent snow helped to heighten the emotion of what is now one of the most beloved movie scenes of all time: after wishing he was never born, George eventually wins his life back after praying for it from God; the answer to his prayer comes with the silent falling of snow that goes unnoticed to George, representing that he is now back in his own reality.

“I wanna live again. I wanna live again. Please, God, let me live again.”

Cinematic perfection.

Of course, Capra’s greatest innovation in directing It’s a Wonderful life was hewing out the performance of the movie’s stars, most notably those of Donna Reed and James Stewart. The influence of the Second World War on the pair’s performances is too vast to encapsulate within this review, and not enough credit can be given to these actors for utilising their own possibly traumatic experiences from that conflict to give such raw and truthful renderings of their characters. The pair’s chemistry with each other represented the two major emotions found in the war’s aftermath: George is the jaded cynic contemplating whether life will be the same again and Mary is the life-affirming optimist within this new found world. With this dynamic, Capra was generous in letting his actors explore their feelings. James Stewart’s return to the big screen did show a notable difference in performance: still very much the All-American Everyman, he was not quite as wide-eyed and naïve as his popular pre-war roles in the likes of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and Destry Rides Again (1939). This more brooding appearance would eventually lead to the much darker roles he took on under Alfred Hitchcock. The actor himself had doubts about being able to perform certain scenes after his war experience, but these doubts turned out to be unfounded after reassurances from Capra who would let Stewart get his teeth stuck into a scene. By allowing the actors to run away with their own emotions, one of the most electrically charged kiss scenes was born as Stewart and Reed embrace over a fateful phone call. Critics to this day are still surprised it got through the censors.

Capra’s instincts and emotional sensitivity would especially pay off in creating It’s a Wonderful Life‘s biggest tear-jerking moment, in which George Bailey finally crumbles and resorts to prayer over a drink in a bar. Stewart reportedly became overcome with genuine emotion at invoking help from the “Divine Father” and is obviously and unabashedly crying. Capra loved it but had unfortunately filmed the whole thing on a long shot. Stewart had refused another take, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to convincingly act out that scene again, so at great cost Capra had that scene blown up. It remains transcendent to this day.

For a film that unabashedly deals in fantasy and the divine, there is oddly enough no Deus Ex Machina moment. When George returns home joyfully and triumphantly, he hasn’t had his problem’s magically fixed by Clarence. He has merely been returned to his own reality (with $8000 still missing). Furthermore, this isn’t a “be grateful with what you have” kind of story. Indeed, George has been shown the worth of his life by seeing the goodness that his generosity and integrity has brought to his community, and it is indeed these acts of goodness which save him. By helping others in need, those whom he has served have come to help him in his time of need, with it all coming to fruition in the finale as the townspeople of Bedford Falls fill the Bailey home, bringing George money but more importantly their love.

This is not an empty message. In its 75 years of existence, It’s a Wonderful Life’s truth still holds up. Despite the omnipresent darkness of the last few years, we have seen time and time again that we are capable of helping each other. People have fed the hungry, rescued those in peril, clapped for carers, looked after the sick and dying. There is always a danger that the humans that do this giving become weary as it feels like their work is all for naught, or times when it feels too difficult to fight the continuing corruption of those in power, but despite the Potters and Johnsons of this world, the wisdom of It’s a Wonderful Life still rings true.

For all those who have made sacrifices to help others in need, remember our own lives touch so many lives – you may not realise it, but the good you do has a huge and far-reaching impact, the absence of which would be keenly felt. “No man is a failure who has friends.”

24/24

As for part 2.. let’s just get stuck in and try to enjoy my ramblings on the divine…

Spoiler Alert!!!

Blade Runner (1982)

Yes, yes. I’m back on the existential-crisis inducing sci-fi movies again. And, like “2001: Space Odyssey” and the soon-to-be-mentioned “Cloud Atlas”, the spiritual experience I had watching this film can be largely attributed to the sheer beauty of the movie. The setting is gob-smacking (it even makes me excited to drive through Middlesbrough – the only real-life comparison I can think of) and the music is somehow both synthetic and deep, perhaps even sensual and mournful at times. The whole affair is a devilishly stylish and futuristic Film Noir.

Although it brings up interesting musings on God/The Creator, the source of my experience comes from its focus on humanity and the human condition. The film (based on Philip K Dick’s novel) is set in a dreadfully dismal future: the world has been devastated by a generic nuclear apocalypse and much of the population have left the Earth to make a new life for themselves in off-world colonies. It’s a hard existence, so androids (or ‘Replicants’) are created to do all of the awful jobs necessary for the survival of the colonies. Some Replicants escape from these pitiful lives and try to make a life for themselves on Earth, but these renegade androids are considered extremely dangerous – they are stronger, quicker and more resilient than humans – and, as androids, they are designed with sub-par emotions and empathy, giving them the potential to be ruthless killers. As such, Bounty Hunters (often referred to as “Blade Runners”) are employed to track them down and take them out.

Deckard (Harrison Ford) is reinstated as the titular Blade Runner when one of his former colleagues is gravely injured after an encounter with a suspected runaway android; his boss is anxious for him to take up the job as four Replicants have actually escaped to Earth together. As if this wasn’t bad enough, it’s revealed that the escaped androids are the latest Nexus-6 models from the Tyrell Corporation. Dr Eldon Tyrell (Joe Turkell) himself, “Thee Creator”, is not so much a mad scientist but more of a man driven by perfection and is evidently enormously proud of his accomplishments in Replicant design – his androids are so identical to humans it’s nearly impossible to distinguish between them, making Deckard’s work that much more difficult. Fortunately, their inferior emotional and empathetic capacities allow them to be identified via “Voight-Kampff” analysis which detects the physiological responses associated with emotion and empathy. There’s only one problem: his latest Nexus-6 models now have an emotional capacity equivalent to that of humans. Shit.

Not only are these Replicants harder to find, but they are also more emotionally bombastic too – Tyrell has tried to compensate for this by inserting a 4-year life span into these models, but this offers little comfort to the hapless Deckard. He witnesses how bad this design can be when he analyses Tyrell’s niece Rachael (Sean Young) with the Vogiht-Kampff analysis. Deckard laboriously struggles to get a definite result from the test, causing Tyrell to reveal in a flurry of triumph that Rachael is in fact an android who has been transplanted with memories from Tyrell’s real niece, making her unaware of the fact that she is not a human. As you can probably guess, this can only end in tears.

What moved me to my core about this movie was the way it displayed and analysed what it means to be human. This is hard to articulate because I know what constitutes being a human, but this film left me in absolute awe. It reinvigorated my principles and helped challenge my apathy towards the plight of my fellow man. As you see throughout the movie, all the humans encountered are bland and unremarkable, it is the replicants who were the most vivid and vibrant. At first their violence is shocking (watching all of Deckard’s beatings genuinely left me with a headache, no wonder Harrison Ford had such an awful time making this movie), so you can understand why they are so relentlessly hunted, but these four escapee Replicants have escaped to Earth to find their creator; they simply do not want to die and are willing to bargain for their lives. What would any one of us do when boxed into a corner with death quickly approaching? Fight like hell! The Replicants’ want for life is so utterly desperate it is incredibly moving, as it hits home to the centre of my existence: the dread of being aware of my own mortality. Zhora (Joanna Cassidy), one of the four hiding Replicants, is disguising herself as an exotic entertainer but is soon discovered by Deckard. After a confrontation, she runs off into the crowded city – it seems she may get away in the hustle and bustle of the over-populated scape, but Deckard finds a shot and takes it. Bleeding, injured and terrified, Zhora clings on to her version life, an effort that causes her great pain. It is another gunshot and several glass windows that finally extinguish her life. In those last few minutes, she was terrified and suffering massively, yet she didn’t give the fight when it would have been so easy for her to let death wash over her.

The replicants are the most charismatic beings in the movie (at least over the human characters in the movie) due to the presentation of their raw emotions. Rachael is wonderfully vulnerable and tender. Pris (Daryl Hannah), another of the four, is frightened but rejoices in life and fun. Roy Batty (Rutger Haeur), the leader of the escaped androids, is ferociously protective of his family and is defiant in the face of his sad fate. They stir up much sympathy in the audience, for contrary to what we are led to believe, they each seem perfectly capable of empathy – at least amongst themselves. They love each other’s company but squabble as any group of friend’s do – so their deaths cause inconsolable grief.

The whole point of these Replicants coming to Earth is to get Dr. Tyrell to find a way to increase their life-span. From Roy Batty’s point of view, it’s not for his own sake but for that of Pris, the woman he loves. These beings are sentient and they are now questioning the creator why their most precious gift is snatched from them before they can enjoy it for themselves. So, when Tyrell denies it, the uncontrollable rage and violence that rains down upon him is of the most revolting intensity, but you can’t help thinking Tyrell gets what he deserves. Above everything else that happens in the movie, it is the Replicants that come out on top as the most righteous. As Deckard hunts the last remaining Replicant, a battle ensues in which he is battered beyond belief. Roy ends up in a position where he can easily take Deckard’s life and, why should he not? Deckard clings to the roof of a building as the rain pours; it’s so wet and his fingers are bruised and broken so he cannot maintain his grip. Any slip and he plunges to his death. But, in the moment Roy reaches out and saves Deckard, the man who has killed his family, he resigns to his fate and dies, just lamenting the memories that will die with him before he takes his final breath. Despite every insult laid upon his existence, Roy redeems himself, and offers mercy when none is offered to him. In Roy lies what it means to be human: emotion, suffering, love and the divinity to do the right thing when no one else will.

His death truly is the most tragic, for if anyone deserves to live it is him.

Through this the film also speaks socially, serving as representation for any oppressed group, any people/s who have been dehumanised – this film cries out for us to look from the perspectives of those who are downtrodden and to see the humanity and hence the divinity that rests in all of us, and as such respect their dignity.

Cloud Atlas (2012)

Amongst its majestic philosophies and beliefs, Cloud Atlas is transporting in its production alone. The best word I can use to describe it is: unique. Despite an array of characters from several different storylines – most of the principle roles are played by only a handful of actors transcending gender, race, and age – the film has been criticised that the aesthetic of such a technique can be unconvincing, but I appreciate the actual idea as it is in accordance with the film that every human is connected to each other, beyond the arbitrary labels applied to it by society. This film is a religious experience (like many of the other awesome films in this list) – the craft of the movie alone is practically a testament to God.

The film follows 6 story strands that weave between each other as the film progresses – I must admit it took about an hour and a half for me to truly get into it due to the constant switching between narratives, but I was completely sucked in by the several twists which often felt like a winding kick in the gut. Eventually the plot comes together, allowing you to make sense of the whole thing and the film blossoms like a flower. You realise that all these supposedly random tales from across far flung points in time and space are all linked, and to a point in which they have a profound effect upon one another.

First, in the 1800s Adam Ewing (Jim Sturgess) is a lawyer on a trip to the Pacific to arrange a contract with a slave-trader for Maori slaves. Next follows the struggles of a talented composer Robert Frobisher (Ben Whishaw) in the 1930s as he creates his Magnum Opus. Following this are the adventures of journalist Luisa Rey (Halle Berry) in the 70s as she fights against a corporation cover-up of dangerous nuclear facilities. It then leaps to the modern-day in which a small-time publisher named Timothy Cavendish (Jim Broadbent) inadvertently lands himself in a totalitarian elderly care-home when on the run from thugs. We then zoom into far into a future in which clones are made to do the menial work of looking after natural-born humans. One clone’s life, that of Sonmi-451 (Doona Bae), is suddenly changed from total monotony when she meets a remarkable natural-born “pureblood” human. Finally, in a far-flung and post-apocalyptic future, a tribesman named Zachry (Tom Hanks) is torn between his loyalties as an outsider implores for his help in her mission.

If you were looking at the movie in the most cold and unattached way, all of these plot-lines have only the most tenuous links – discovered letters; journals of the souls from before – but if that is all you see then you need to take your head out of your arse. Each of the main protagonists go through great trials of love and battles for justice. They all muster small moments of courage to do incredible things and lead the way for the rest of mankind. After a slave saves Adam Ewing’s life, he realises he could no longer live with himself by continuing to work within the slave trade, despite how it leads to his personal ruin. Frobisher, in the face of the destruction of his own future, fearlessly sticks up his middle finger to the entitled rich by ensuring they never get their hands on his work, even though he himself perishes. Rey tirelessly works to whistle blow the nuclear reactor situation, even though her pursuit of the truth puts herself and those around her, including her young son, in mortal danger. Sonmi-451 discovers that, as a clone, she is destroyed after 11 years of existence to become food for other clones, and when she is asked to condemn the government that profess clones to be ‘lesser life-forms’, she agrees despite the almost absolute certainty that she will be caught and executed. Zachry, an outcast in his community due to his cowardice, makes the decision to help an outsider get to a place of great dread, despite all of his literal personal demons; his selfless actions lead to the rescue of the remains of the human race on Earth, allowing them to prosper in the colonies.

Even more remarkable is that the good deeds and tremendous acts of those from the past make their presence felt to those succeeding them and, despite how small their presence is, the bravery and the beauty of those before succeed in inspiring goodness in those after them. If Adam had not resigned from the slave trade, would Zachary have saved the human race? Basically, this film reaffirms one of my biggest beliefs and driving forces in life, which Sonmi-451 beautifully articulates:

“Our lives are not our own. From womb to tomb, we are bound to others. Past and present. And by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.”

I try to live my life, admittedly not always successfully, doing as much good to others as I possibly can, even in the smallest kindnesses – knowing that the tiniest acts will pass on from person to person, having an impact on them, propagating eternally, even after my death. And if this is so, it does not bear thinking about what evil I could leave as my legacy if I walk through life with hatred and apathy. All human souls are connected and are hence all beautiful and equal to one another. We are all always connected, not even death can keep us apart:

“I believe death is only a door. When it closes, another opens. If I cared to imagine a heaven, I would imagine a door opening and behind it, I would find him there.”

The best thing about this movie is that I believe it has helped me to become a better person, even if it was by just a smidge, and that’s the whole point really.

It’s A Wonderful Life (1946)

God, I love this movie so much. It’s probably the biggest tear-jerker on this list and it stands out like a sore thumb as it’s not a sci-fi, fantasy, religious epic, or a story drenched in blood. It is, however, probably the biggest celebration of human goodness in the ordinary man.

I have already unashamedly celebrated this masterpiece on this here website – article here. This film is on the must-watch list of Christmas movies for countless numbers of people all over the world and, in my opinion, is the greatest Christmas movie ever-made as it far more embodies the true Christmas Spirit than any of its contenders.

The initial prayer montage and galaxy/outer space/heaven/God scene can seem a bit hokey and out-dated, but if you let that get on your nerves then you’re a fool as it sets up the premise of the movie which contains the unfortunately everyday, yet saddest event, in human life: the taking of one’s life. Down-trodden and crushed underfoot, at the end of his tether and at breaking point, the central protagonsit is fully convinced that he is better off dead. However, his family and friends, in their sorrow and worry, have fervently prayed for his sake; prayed for his deliverance from his suffering. Their prayers do not fall on deaf ears as his Guardian Angel descends from heaven to earnestly come to his side and help him.

Before we get to that part we learn of how this man, George Bailey (James Stewart), has been driven to this desperate state. George, from the off-set, seems like an ordinary man, but it is revealed that inside shines a keen intellect and fiery ambition far greater than that of his friends and peers. His life is shown as a long flashback, and seeing George as a boy then a young man, you are excited to see if he becomes a well-educated and travelled person whose life will be full of grand accomplishments and achievements. Instead, we see a life of seeming mundanity laid out before him. This is because, beyond the talent and ambition within his being, George is defined by his love for his fellow man.

Throughout his life, you see him sacrifice his dreams for the sake of others. Instead of going off to College, he takes up the top position in the “Bailey Building and Loan” Building Society after the sudden death of his father, as he knows it is the one thing that stops the monopolisation of his hometown, Bedford Falls, by a greedy old man who couldn’t care less if most of the working class suffered as he made his profits. From then, he takes moments and efforts from his own life to benefit the poor and unprivileged around him (whilst his friends prosper in their fantastic careers). He gives his college money to his younger brother, he doles out his honeymoon cash to ease the pinch when the 1929 bank crash comes, and remains in the penny-counting job that he hates knowing that he helps to enable many people to own the roof above their heads. However, these selfless acts eventually take their toll and, due to an unfortunate mix-up with several thousands of dollars which causes an imbalance in the books, George finds himself in a mess which he in no way created and is struggling to find a way out of. If he can’t find the money, he may be accused and imprisoned for embezzling funds. He is overcome with strife and despair as he doesn’t know what to do, or who to turn to, and he is so very afraid of what will happen to his family. When finally turning to the Divine Father for providence and ending up with a fist to the face for his efforts, he finally sinks into despair. It is in this anguish that the character comes to his devastating conclusion.

Although it has taken an extremely tragic turn, the story of George Bailey up to this point is already wonderful and inspiring. We live in a very self-obsessed age, where everyone is out for number one. We have all witnessed some dreadful acts by the few privileged in power who act to line their own pockets whilst those in real need are left to suffer. And, as many of us very much feel the austerity upon us, it seems very difficult to find the time and resources spare to help those around us. However, George Bailey (who is just a man) time and time again takes the moral courage to make the decisions which defend the less well-off in his community rather than enrich himself. The amazing effect of this movie on the audience is largely attributed to James Stewart’s amazing performance. One moment that literally breaks your heart is the aforementioned scene when George finally resorts to prayer – his hands tremble and the tears freely flow down his cheeks – surely this is a desperate man. However, the movie’s message really makes its impact when George’s Guardian Angel, Clarence, grants his wish of “never being born” and George witnesses the terrifying transformation of Bedford Falls. Now called Pottersville, it’s a ghastly and miserable place. Cheap and nasty, the high street is filled with seedy night clubs and brothels. Everyone is miserable and hostile, and many of George’s friends and families are subjected to despairing existences.

George Bailey then finally realises he has “A Wonderful Life”. In this terrible vision, he begins to see how far-reaching his acts of goodness and kindness are, to the point where his own being has improved the lives of so many people in the town. And that is something we must all learn too. Evil is always present in our lives, but all of us have the duty to try and keep it at bay. It really doesn’t take that much… George Bailey simply does the modest work of his trade with integrity and honesty, and working with those principles ensures he treats all of his fellow human beings with dignity. And remember, yes Clarence rescues George from the brink of despair and George accepts his possible fate of winding up in prison; but it is George’s friends and family who pull together to raise the funds to balance the books at the Building and Loan. They do this because they all love him and know he would do the same for them. In the words of Clarence:

“Remember no man is a failure who has friends.”

Remember, you can read Part 1 by clicking here.

First of all, there are many very good, highly enjoyable Christmas movies out there (and a ton of awful ones), and some of them I consider a must-see during the festive season: Elf, The Grinch, The Santa Clause etc. I always get incredibly excited when Christmas gets close and I love discussing what my favourite Christmas things are like songs and movies. I mentioned the 1946 movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”, one of my favourite films in general let alone a Christmas must-see, and one of my co-workers replied with a short story about how they had tried to watch it but “it wasn’t very Christmassy”. Yes, they just said that the greatest Christmas movie of all time wasn’t “very Christmassy”. Gob-smacked.

Well done Hollywood. You seem to have succeeded in convincing people that Christmas is your fake-ass, lame, materialistic and brattish holiday you depict in your movies. FUCK YOU! I mean, yes, so many of these films are great entertainment, but if we think about it; do they really portray the true meaning of Christmas? In my opinion, all Christmas movies in comparison to “It’s a Wonderful Life” look like the cold dead corpses of Father Christmas that have been rolled in glitter*. Most of the messages and morals are puddle deep like “Oh no, something’s wrong and Santa won’t be able to deliver any presents this year” or “Oh no, the perfect Christmas I planned has gone wrong and now I look a fool in front of my mother-in-law”. I mean many of them do promote family and all that but they all seem to be a vehicle in the promotion of a cheap commercial for materialistic Christmas. For example, in Elf, the biggest message I got from that is that Zooey Deschanel will sing in public if she really has to. I’m sure The Grinch had some important message about tolerance and acceptance, but I was too distracted by the guy who kissed a dog on the arse. The Santa Clause was full of adults who stopped believing in Santa because they didn’t get a certain present from the big man himself. MAYBE YOU DIDN’T DESERVE IT HMMMM!? I once saw Deck the Halls which was a vile experience through and through, down to when the fathers ended up cat-calling his own daughters. Don’t even get me started on Jack Gooding’s entries for Christmas movies this year.

In comparison “It’s a Wonderful Life” lacks all the materialism and consumerism but is instead a celebration of small town values such as honesty, integrity and kindness. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it “anti-capitalist” but it definitely denounces the unchecked pursuit for more money that leads to horrifically unequal distribution of wealth:

“Do you know how long it takes a working man to save $5,000? Just remember this, Mr. Potter, that this rabble you’re talking about… they do most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community. Well, is it too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple of decent rooms and a bath?”.

If you actually cast your minds to the Nativity, the main message is “Peace and Goodwill to all men on Earth” which is what the true spirit of Christmas is all about. The story of George Bailey embodies this message and spirit – he is a man who constantly puts himself last, takes up major responsibility upon himself even though they dash his dreams against the rocks, simply to protect those around him from the evil of an avarice old man. After his father’s death, he takes up the Building Loan company that was left which he despises but knows prevents the complete monopolisation of Bedford Falls by the greedy, grasping Potter. He ends up giving his University place to his brother, even though he has dreamed of becoming an architect since he was a young boy and ends up stuck in the dead-end of his little hometown. He makes a family with Mary who adores him and adores their home-town which he hates so. Even as war breaks out he watches as all of his peers become war heroes as he is stuck back home due to an injury he got in childhood when he saved his little brother’s life. Finally, his acts of selflessness simply become too much: on Christmas Eve money from the Building Loan is lost in an accident causing an imbalance in the books which, at the least, could land George in debtors’ prison. His shame and despair drives him to the decision to take his own life. However, George’s kind actions throughout his life have touched many of the town-people’s lives who all pray for him on that fateful night. Their prayers are heard and answered by the arrival of an apprentice angel who tries to convince George that suicide isn’t the answer to his troubles. He shows what Bedford Falls is like if he was never born: now called Potterville, a place of debauchery and misery with all his loved ones now twisted embittered versions of themselves. George ends up begging for his life to be returned to him and despite his dire situation, he welcomes back his life with pure joy and jubilation. To put it short: he is redeemed.

You may say that the idea of a guardian from heaven coming down to save you is a stupid message to give as it teaches the audience nothing but to rely on divine intervention during Christmas. Yeah, Clarence is the answer to the prayers but George’s family and the people of Bedford Falls answer their own prayers, pouring in their savings to prevent the Building and Loan from going under, and throughout his life George’s generous actions were probably often the answer to his friends’ prayers. That’s the point of Christmas – bad things happen to people, and as Christmas is supposed to be a joyous celebration, we should make an extra effort to help those down-trodden and unable to celebrate to share what we have so that everyone can be joyful. Such acts don’t only redeem those we help but redeem those who carry them out too and Christmas is a celebration of the hope of redemption, and that no one person is truly insignificant.

So, take your excess of presents, your competitiveness in who has the best decorations, and your movies that fill your mind with materialistic fluff. If you want a film to really bring the message of Christmas home, you know which to choose. It’s a good little reminder of the small sacrifices we can make in life for all of those around us.

Kicks your Christmas tree over on the way out.

*Except “A Muppet Christmas Carol” and “The Snowman”, those films are perfection.