Dream Sequences: What Movies Are Really All About

“...it was all just a dream.”

It’s funny that the “it was all a dream” trope is considered the textbook example of bad storytelling across fiction because not only do you almost never actually see it show up in popular media (or at least I rarely do), but when it does show up it’s usually employed in pretty riveting and highly regarded movies — The Wizard of Oz, Mulholland Drive, Jacob’s Ladder, to name a few. And part of what makes these movies so riveting is exactly that: they adhere to the “rules” of dreams, which is where the best filmmaking resides. 

I love dream sequences. They’re usually my favorite part of any movie because they’re a perfect, seamless intersection of abstract and cerebral: 

• They can be used to further the story or give insight into a character without any exposition or character development.

• They’re visually-driven, yet their inherent substance in the context of the story is immediately recognizable to the audience. 

• They allow the writer to be ‘direct’ with his pen, and they allow the director to ‘write’ with his camera. 

• You can get away with damn near anything in a dream sequence - all rules go out the window. Those are the rules. Even the most stringently ‘logical’ moviegoers (you know the type) will accept it. They’re a free pass to do surreal shit in mainstream fare. 

Dream sequences are, for all intents and purposes, what cinema is really about. The brilliance of movies like the ones I mentioned (Jacob’s Ladder, Mulholland Drive, etc) is that the entire movie is a “dream sequence.” 

Below are some of my favorites (emphasis on ‘some’). There are too many to put them all in one post, but these are a handful of examples of what I consider to be pure cinema:  

Anomalisa (2015)

The whole movie is surreal, as you’d expect. Charlie uses stop-motion animation to accentuate the lead character’s existential crisis by literalizing his numbness to other people’s humanity - every other character has the same face and is voiced by Tom Noonan. However, this quasi-meta approach goes full-tilt meta during a dream in which Michael (our lead) imagines his plastic face falling off. We get to literally see inside him, all of the plastic inner-workings. It’s like seeing ‘the Man behind the curtain’ but creepier. 

The Exorcist (1973)

Few films are able to achieve what this scene does: dreams depicted in movies rarely feel like they’re actually taking place inside the character’s mind. I can’t explain exactly how this scene pulls off that distinct ‘feel,’ but that’s why I love it. I suspect it has something to do with the sound design: we think we can sort of ‘hear’ what’s happening in the dream, but we can’t. We feel far away from it yet simultaneously and paradoxically trapped in it. And when the scene is over, it feels half-remembered, vague, illusory, which only adds to its spookiness. 

Friedkin’s best shit was always the abstract stuff in my opinion. If you haven’t already, check out Sorcerer and make note of the “Where am I going?” scene toward the end. Peak cinema. 

 

The Conversation (1974)

This one brings me to another point I want to make about these types of scenes: they can sort of embody a film’s entire aesthetic/vibe/atmosphere in its most potent and distilled form. The heavy-handed execution of this particular scene would never work for the entirety of a feature-length picture, but if you do it just once then it can permeate the rest of the film in a palpable yet intangible way. This scene depicting Harry’s paranoid nightmare is definitely what the entire movie feels like, but this is the only part you can actually point to and say “See?!” 

Amour (2012)

Another Conversation situation: this sequence encapsulates the film’s whole vibe. It used to be one of my favorite movies all-around, and this scene was 99% why. The movie as a whole is extremely depressing - like everything Haneke does - but also like all of Haneke’s other films, the high points are when things get explicitly frightening. He never made a ‘horror film’ in the traditional sense of the word (I suspect he feels such a thing would be ‘beneath’ him), but if he ever did, I don’t think I’d survive it. 

Okay, here’s the scene: Jean-Louis Trintignant is getting ready for bed when his doorbell suddenly rings. He asks who is there but gets no response. He exits his apartment to find that the elevator has been destroyed and his neighbor’s front door has been kicked down. He calls out for anybody but no one answers. Further down the hallway he finds that the floor is completely flooded - the water is up to his ankles. Before he can call out again, a disembodied hand reaches from behind his head and muzzles his mouth. No music sting, no score, only ambient sound.

Hellraiser (1987)

It feels strange to say, but I always forget about this scene. Not because it’s bad, but because this is the opposite of Amour and The Conversation: it doesn’t feel like the rest of the movie at all. The rest of the movie is a hard and fast plunge into gooey body horror and salacious sexual humidity, but this part feels so much more artful and delicate in its execution compared to the incendiary maximalism of everything else. Whenever I put the movie on I have a moment where I go “Oh yeah!” once I realize we’re in Kirsty’s dream. 

The scene in question depicts a premonition of sorts: Kirsty envisions her dead father covered in a sheet adorned with candles and falling feathers from God-knows-where. Gradually the sheet begins to soak through with blood before the corpse rises and reveals itself. It’s shot in slow-motion and features the sounds of a crying baby - I wouldn’t be surprised if it inspired Silent Hill to some extent. 

Enemy (2013)

This is another Anomalisa situation: the entire film is abstract, but there are some sequences that are explicitly dreams - more than one - and they are among the most impactful movie moments that I’ve experienced in my entire life. The first involves a recreation of a scene from a fictional movie that Jake Gyllenhaal’s character watched earlier in the film, except there’s no dialogue or sound FX aside from some frighteningly raucous horns and drums courtesy of Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans. Aptly titled “The Dream,” this piece of music remains, to this day, one of the scariest pieces of film score I’ve ever heard.

The second dream - or nightmare - is more terrifying to me than 99.99% of horror films. Partly this is due to my own arachnophobia, but I don’t wanna pin it just on that; I’ve seen tons of horror movies that employ spiders as a scare tactic but none of them affected me at all whatsoever. Really it’s the execution that makes this so deeply unnerving: the formaldehyde-yellow color filter, the chiaroscuro lighting, the eerily gentle music, and most importantly: the design of the ‘head,’ which I find more hellish than just about any demon or Devil ever put on film. This is the kind of stuff that Denis should be doing instead of hanging out with sci-fi nerds.

Plunderpics

 

God's Reject

  

  I thought I'd eventually outgrow The Devil's Rejects but I rewatched it last night and realized I've actually never fully grown into it. Here's this movie I've loved for damn near 20 years and suddenly it has a cranking, whirring and sliding Murphy Door to a winding staircase of Dr. Robert Zombie's most accomplished lab experiment. On the surface Rejects is a spectacular Frankensteinian monster that appears to be a simple 'throwback' to '70s exploitation movies but it's also a unique and measured satire. It went from being one of my casual favorites to edging into my all-time Top 10 because it's pretty much perfect on all fronts.

  First off, visually, it's almost a prototype for me. If I'm dissatisfied with a movie's aesthetic, Rejects is either first or second on my wishlist of How Most Movies Should Look. Every single aspect of the color, the contrast, the lighting, the grainy texture — I adore every frame so much. Even the way he blocks scenes, utilizes the frame, slow zooms, and the energy he brings to handheld is all so casual without being aimless or one-note. There's a distinct style here that's complimented by the sharp control in the editing, especially the use of slides and dissolves.

  But more than that is how he navigates the varying tones and shifts in narrative framing, achieving an uncanny harmony that's pretty remarkable. RZ has as much desire to entertain as he does to horrify. None of the horror is ever undercut by a joke nor is any of the horror intrusive on the humor — which is important considering the upsetting places that this movie goes. 

  Our 'Antihero' (a dubious designation), John Quincy Wydell, is a deeply angry person who jumps to threaten someone with brutal assault simply for insulting "The King" Elvis Presley. So when it comes to his 'righteous' mission for vengeance and Frontier Justice, it's obvious his intentions have little to no nobility. He's full of faux-badass one-liners and monologues, even hypocritically balking when others do the same bullshit posturing that he does in front of a mirror at home. And that hypocrisy is what defines his arc: he becomes who he hates. Again, he's aware of this, but he thinks it's a necessary part of his mission, "walkin' The Line," instead of delusional entitlement to violence. Yeah, The Fireflies are irredeemable monsters, no doubt, but them being awful doesn't absolve Wydell of his own accountability just cuz he's got a badge.

  When no other police are around, Wydell slithers in and murders a handcuffed Mother Firefly but with the added venom of sexual violence since he initiates it with erotic coercion as he 'fucks' her stomach with a knife. He even uses this later to taunt Baby, saying "I bet that old whore came before I took her miserable life." This isn't any different than the graphic sexual assault of Gloria Sullivan by Otis Firefly as he shoved his gun into her panties and, later, uses it to taunt Roy Sullivan with "I think I can still smell your wife's pussy stink on my gun." The only difference is choice of weapon.

  The parallels and flip-flopping tones constantly challenge the very idea of any binary Allegiances. One of them is working for The Lord and the others are doing The Devil's Work; they're all scum but at least the Devil's Rejects are honest about what they are. There's even a specific point where Zombie shows his hand: the turn happens after Wydell has an incredibly tender moment with the Rejects' traumatized maid. Zombie holds on her pained face as Wydell walks away, making her and her pain feel significant rather than a backdrop. Right after this, though, Wydell meets up with The Unholy Two, a couple of scuzzy bounty hunters he's paid to track down the Fireflies. They look as gritty and fringe as the Rejects themselves and Wydell doesn't mince words as he makes it known he thinks they're beneath him, which means he's embraced a 'necessary evil' — nevermind the fact that he's turning toward evil. And right after their exchange we cut to the infamous Tutti-Frutti scene, the first moment where these sadistic murdering necrophiliacs are shown in an endearing light. This is a brilliant editing choice because, from here on out, The Line is completely blurred as Zombie challenges us to enjoy the Fireflies' company as Wydell becomes a more annoying, embittered killjoy.

 The ethos of the bottlenecking narratives is for us to ask ourselves when and if we're okay with Sadism and Torture, and we even get to laugh along the way.

  The chill hangout aspect to the character building brings the much-needed light that gives this movie balance. With rhythmic dialog that sounds naturalistic because of the cast's chemistry—they all sound like people who've worked together for years—playing off of each other with funny asides that also reveal enough to humanize them. Again, RZ never tells us what to feel, but he refuses to let any character, no matter how small, feel insignificant. Miraculously, the pacing doesn't suffer when we get a bit about how one of the deputies has low blood sugar or the roadie for Banjo & Sullivan wishes he was a rodeo clown instead (or a prostitute who thinks she could really make some money cosplaying some "Star Wars shit" and her pimp not wanting to do it because he doesn't have the patience for nerds). With expert precision we're thrown from that back into terror and bloodshed without getting whiplash.

  With this movie alone Zombie proves himself as a dab-hand juggler who's capable of never dropping any balls he throws up in the air. His coordination and everything he achieves with it makes for one of the most underappreciated American films ever made.

ↃL⊥\\Ↄ—\\ᘰ

 "MOMMY! DADDY! UNMAKE ME!! AND SAVE ME FROM THE HELL OF LIVING!!!"

  Like an entry wound bursting open, Longlegs starts with a bang and from there we tour a dark and wet cadaver until emerging from the exit wound bloody and confused, but at least T.Rex is playing.

Guided by a wicked command of anticipation with a torturous use of negative space, clever subversions of visual cliches, and paranoid pacing that only a stalker could instill, Osgood Perkins more than meets the hype NEON propped up for Longlegs: he shatters it. Due to that hype, I was ready for this movie to either knock me out or ruin my weekend but it actually managed to surprise me. It being an intensely spooky, moody, and doomy horror movie isn't surprising but what caught me off-guard was its wonderful comedic streak. I laughed quite a bit when I wasn't clenching my fists and my teeth.

  And it isn't funny as a calculated means to release tension, but, almost incidentally amusing, like there's never a good time to let your guard down. There's a deadpan wit with whiffs of camp during scenes of awkward socialization. That uncanny mixture is what makes Nic Cage's casting so perfect: he's just as funny as he is scary. Anytime I laughed at/with something he said or did, it was never without a nervous rattle in my throat. He occupies every single frame of this movie whether he's visible or not because of how Perkins builds an oppressive atmosphere but also because Longlegs himself is so memorable. Part of the marketing was in hiding his face and enticing you to come see it–even the first half of the movie obscures his full visage–so naturally my curiosity hooked me in. But whence he was fully revealed, I fucking HATED looking at him.

  Cursed with the kind of face that imprints on your eyelids, and not just because of the make-up layered on to make Cage unrecognizable, but because of how he brings it to life. He's currently squatting in the part of my brain that houses my other intrusive thoughts, cognitively summoning against my will, especially at night or when my apartment is quiet. His unique mode of sensorial eccentricity sticks like napalm; certain lines are burned into my tongue so when I'm stimming I'll blurt out his line deliveries like catchy song lyrics. He is an audio-visual parasite and I'm battling the inflections infection.

  There's hardly any solace to be found in Maika Monroe's Lee Harker, either. Watching her navigate this movie's disciplined momentum creates another sense of unease on top of what Cage brings to it. She plays Lee with a reserved propulsion, like a hummingbird that's been wrapped in duct tape, matching the movie's pacing with a stifled anxiety. It's an evolution of the performance she gave in WATCHER, upping her already remarkable game as a modern Scream Queen; There's a vulnerability to Lee without fragility and a toughness without stoicism. People have characterized Lee as a riff on Clarice Starling which is a slightly sexist misread. I see her as more in line with Will Graham (Hugh Dancy's, to be specific) as she's perceptive and clever with cursed third-eye insight. This kind of performance could easily dip into shifty, fidgety, eye-darting cliches but Monroe showcases a control of subtlety. Lee is also socially alien which is where more of the humor pokes through, especially as she gets these great—albeit short-lived—odd couple moments with her charismatic boss. Blair Underwood plays FBI director Carter with a familiar warmth and charm; He brings an affable Dadness to this horror movie about Fatherly madness until the case roils frustration and confusion out of him. His impatience feels the most like an unturned cliche that the script ever comes close to, until it becomes explicitly clear that the resolution to the case won't be grounded in reality.

  Refreshingly, LONGLEGS goes fully supernatural, there's no interpretative, allegory-pocked cop-out. Hell is downstairs and Satan is there under your feet. In an almost self-aware way, the eschewing of contemporary horror tendencies toward grief and trauma metaphors is baked into the narrative. Parents shielding their children from the Hell of living, trying to crystallize their innocence forever, is the real evil at the heart of this movie. With that said, there's a lot of minutiae and, I guess, lore, that I'm still unpacking (particularly the use of POV shots for the dolls). Perkins suggests so many different things without taking the whole curtain down. What remains shrouded demands a rewatch or two (or three or four or [...]).

  So is Longlegs scary? I mean, that's such a subjective term and I can't encompass every which way that people approach horror movies. What I got out of it certainly scared me because it clung to me. Yeah, there are some effective jumpscares that frightened me (coiled and clever in execution) but if you like emphatic terror, I don't think this is the movie for you.

  But if you like thick fucking dread forcing you to check over your shoulder, then you are the dark.

The Top 100: Albums

It's been a while since I posted one of these. Here are what I consider my favorite albums. 

TOP 100

100. The Kinks- We Are the Village Green Preservation Society (1968)

99. Aimee Mann- Bachelor No. 2 (2000)

98. Can- Tago Mago (1970)

97. Cryptopsy- None So Vile (1996)

96. Morbid Angel- Altars of Madness (1989)

95. Peter Gabriel- Security (1982)

94. Weezer- Blue Album (1994)

93. Rush- Hemispheres (1978)

92. Lingua Ignota- Sinner Get Ready (2021)

91. Emperor- Anthems to the Welkin At Dusk (1997)

90. Simon and Garfunkel- Bridge Over Troubled Water (1970)

89. Bjork- Homogenic (1997)

88. Pink Floyd- Animals (1977)

87. Death Grips- Bottomless Pit (2016)

86. Dream Theater- Awake (1994)

85. A Tribe Called Quest- Low End Theory (1991)

84. Carcass- Heartwork (1995)

83. King Crimson- In the Court of the Crimson King (1969)

82. Mercyful Fate- Don't Break the Oath (1984)

81. Portishead- Dummy (1994)

80. Suffocation- Effigy of the Forgotten (1991)

79. Joni Mitchell- Blue (1971)

78. DJ Shadows- Endtroducing (1996)

77. Mr. Bungle- Mr. Bungle (1991)

76. Electric Wizard- Dopethrone (2000)

75. Tom Waits- Bone Machine (1992)

74. Rush- Grace Under Pressure (1984)

73. ELO- A New World Record (1976)

72. The Rolling Stones- Sticky Fingers (1971)

71. Agalloch- The Mantle (2002)

70. Iron Maiden- Powerslave (1984)

69. Scott Walker- The Drift (2006)

68. Brian Eno- Another Green World (1975)

67. Led Zeppelin- Physical Graffiti (1975)

66. The Cure- Disintegration (1989)

65. The Who- Tommy (1969)

64. 16 Horsepower- Sackcloth N' Ashes (1996)

63. Swans- The Seer (2012)

62. Talking Heads- Remain In Light (1980)

61. David Bowie- Station to Station (1976)

60. Nina Simone- Pastel Blues (1965)

59. Dissection- Storm of the Light's Bane (1995)

58. Raekwon- Only Built 4 Cuban Linx (1995)

57. George Harrison- All Things Must Pass (1970)

56. Dead Kennedys- Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables (1981)

55. The Flaming Lips- The Soft Bulletin (1999)

54. Kate Bush- Hounds of Love (1985)

53. Nas- Illmatic (1994)

52. Nine Inch Nails- The Downward Spiral (1994)

51. Ulver- The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1998)

50. Yes- Relayer (1974)

49. Bob Dylan- Blood On the Tracks (1975)

48. Charles Mingus- The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady (1963)

47. The Smashing Pumpkins- Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness (1995)

46. The Beatles- The White Album (1968)

45. Radiohead- Kid A (2000)

44. Frank Zappa- Joe's Garage (1979)

43. Alice In Chains- Dirt (1992)
42. Marillion- Clutching At Straws (1987)

41. Genesis- Selling England By the Pound (1973)

40. My Bloody Valentine- Loveless (1991)

39. Daughters- You Won't Get What You Want (2018)

38. Godspeed You Black Emperor- Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven (2000)
37. Van Der Graaf Generator- Still Life (1976)

36. GZA- Liquid Swords (1995)

35. Cocteau Twins- Heaven or Las Vegas (1990)

34. Pixies- Doolittle (1989)

33. Tool- Lateralus (2001)

32. Public Enemy- It Takes A Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (1988)

31. Slayer- Reign In Blood (1986)

30. Black Sabbath- Master of Reality (1971)

29. Jellyfish- Spilt Milk (1993)

28. Swans- The Great Annihilator (1995)

27. The Zombies- The Odessey and the Oracle (1968)

26. The Beastie Boys- Paul's Boutique (1989)

25. Queen- A Night At the Opera (1975)

24. Pink Floyd- Wish You Were Here (1975)

23. Opeth- Blackwater Park (2001)

22. Leonard Cohen- Songs of Leonard Cohen (1967)

21. Kendrick Lamar- To Pimp A Butterfly (2015)

20. Marvin Gaye- What's Going On (1971)
19. The Clash- London Calling (1979)
18. The Beatles- Revolver (1966)

17. Mr. Bungle- California (1999)
16. Frank Zappa/The Mothers of Invention- We're Only In It For the Money (1968)

15. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds- Murder Ballads (1996)

14. Rush- Permanent Waves (1980)

13. King Crimson- Red (1974)
12. Faith No More- Angel Dust (1992)

11. Metallica- Master of Puppets (1986)

TOP TEN

10. Tom Waits- Rain Dogs (1985)

9. Death- Symbolic (1995)

8. David Bowie- The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars (1972)

7. Radiohead- OK Computer (1997)
6. Wu Tang Clan- Enter the 36 Chambers (1993)
5. Elton John- Goodbye Yellow Brick Road (1973)
4. Pink Floyd- The Dark Side of the Moon (1973)
3. The Beach Boys- Pet Sounds (1966)
2. Genesis- The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway (1974)
1. The Beatles- Abbey Road (1969)

Are you in the 8th grade?

 If I could narrow down the number of great scripts to about 20, George Gallo's work on Midnight Run would be in the pile. 

Something sorely missing from comedies is the characters to feel human. Gallo's script is perfectly calibrated in terms of tone. It's never too goofy and never too violent. So few comedies do this anymore. A comedy doesn't always mean goofy non sequiters and the silliest stuff you can come up with. The way exposition is doled out in the movie is neatly wrapped into character observations. 

We can talk about how the Litmus Configuration is one of the great scenes in comedy history. We can talk about how Serrano's speech to the Duke about 'going home and having a nice meal' manages to turn blood cold. A scene that happens exactly when it needs to, showing why Jonathan Mardukis is frightened for his life as far as the predicament he is in. If this scene was placed at the beginning of the film, it would create a gray cloud over the whole film. Thus diminishing any comedic hijinx that ensues between Jack and The Duke. 

The impetus for this post about Midnight Run is a scene about half way through the picture which raises the stakes for Jack. But isn't through threat of violence. 

The stop in to Chicago where they visit his ex-wife comes at a point in the film where Jack's credit card has been cancelled. He is moneyless. The Duke, being the moral character he is, suggests he go to visit his ex-wife's house. 

When he sees his daughter Denise standing speechless in the doorway, DeNiro's whole body language and vocal inflection change. 'Are you in the 8th grade?' is the queston of a man who is desperately trying to noramlize that awkward moment between them. Seeing the daughter run after him with offering her babysitting money just hits me in the heart. It doesn't kick us out of the story. The rest of the movie builds off it. 

The bits where we see Jack hold his watch up to his ear pay off here. He is trapped in the past and unable to move on. Nine years have gone by and he has refused to take off the watch his ex has gifted him. He simply can't let go. This explanation is echoed in the boxcar scene after a brilliant comic improv regarding chickens on Grodin's part. It's yet another example of how the script uses character moments. It accomplishes two (in this case 3) things at once as all great writing does. 

   1. The story of Jack's watch and why he can't let Gail go

   2. It solidifies the relationship between the two 

   3. The verbal ping pong between them ends with "in the next life", a phrase which returns in their           last scene together. 

By the end of the film, the watch finds itself on the wrist of The Duke. "Something to remember our adventures by." What does Jack get? A cash strap in the neighborhood of $300,000. Even though he is unable to get a taxi drive to break a $1000 bill, he'll get to where he's going. Eventually. 

1*9*7*0 Gives A D*A*M*N

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Anywhere but here, man."

                            -The Wild Angels

I. DRAGONS AND DRAGONFLIES

When did the 70's really begin?

This series is intended to celebrate the 50th anniversaries of, what is in my opinion, the greatest decade in film. Like any era, New Hollywood as it came to be known, doesn't have a cleanly bracketed beginning and end. The end of the road is widely considered to be Heaven's Gate in 1980. As many film historians, critics, directors and actors can attest to. The beginning wasn't strictly in the 70's. But then again, the 60's as we know them didn't really begin until November 22, 1963. And it didn't end as a ball dropped in Times Square on December 31, 1969 but on August 8 of that year in a house on 10050 Cielo Drive. 

In his book Pictures At A Revolution, Mark Harris makes a compelling argument that the 70's-or at least the seismic shift in the cinematic landscape- started in 1967. The five Best Picture nominees for that year were: Bonnie and Clyde, Doctor Doolittle, The Graduate, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, and In the Heat of the Night. Let's break them down. 

Doctor Doolittle is a representation of the oldest of Old Hollywood. One that was riding the wave of success of Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music. As a result, a dozen musicals surfaced in the late sixties that nobody wanted to see. Is there anyone pining for a blu ray of Sweet Charity or Thoroughly Modern Millie? 

Sidney Poitier stars in two of the five nominated films: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner and In the Heat of the Night. He had no competition from his peers because Hollywood during the 50s and 60s had room for exactly ONE black actor. He was a big draw, as Mark Harris puts it: "His drawing power was a shock to an industry that had, until recently, treated his employment in movies as something akin to an act of charity, and Hollywood greeted his new popularity with an orgy of self-congratulation." 

The Graduate was turned down by every major studio in town and ended up being financed independently. Bonnie and Clyde was financed by Warner Bros. but loathed by Jack Warner. Both are now considered AFI classics. 

The Los Angeles Times looked at this particular list of nominees and called it a battle of dragons against the dragonflies. The dragons were Stanley Kramer, Katherine Hepburn, Spencer Tracy, Rex Harrison, the makers of Guess Who's Coming to Dinner and Doctor Doolittle and the army of the old guard of technicians who were making movies since the dawn of the sound era. The dragonflies were Warren Beatty, Dustin Hoffman, Faye Dunaway, Rod Steiger, Mike Nichols, Hal Ashby, Norman Jewison and Arthur Penn, all newcomers, nontraditionalists or outsiders. "The divide was generational but also aesthetic- these were people who were rejecting what movies had been in favor of what they could be."

Films became darker and edgier. More progressive. This isn't to say, the darker tone was invented in 1967. The B movies and AIP films of the 60s went further than the bigger budget Hollywood films. A film like The Wild Angels existed in a visceral way that was more connected to the zeitgeist of the times that Hollywood movies of the times were not. In Mick Garris' Postmortem podcast, Tarantino made an apt comparison of two films: Three In the Attic and Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice. The former goes forward with its menage a trois of the women fucking Paxton Quigley until they kill him in a way the latter stops short. It becomes timid. These zeitgeist movies helped nudge Hollywood out of it's Old Hollywood World and into the New Hollywood world. 

Together, these movies captured a cultural shift, when the fall of Old Hollywood gave way to New Hollywood. The Hays Code imposed on Hollywood in the 1930s was lifted a year later and everything changed. What the ratings board did was it stopped the sheriff of any county from suing a movie for its obscenity laws. An X rated film like Midnight Cowboy could win Best Picture, Easy Rider could become a counterculture sensation and 2001 could pull curious crowds into it's orbit. 

II. ANYWHERE BUT HERE

On May 4, 1970, members of the National Guard fired into a crowd of Kent State University demonstrators, killing four and wounding nine students. The protest was against the U.S. incursion into Cambodia. 

The confluence of both a shift in storytelling and the effects from the last few years of trauma brought out a darkness in studio pictures. After World War II, directors like Frank Capra, George Stevens, William Wyler, and John Ford released what are considered some of their best works. Films in general during the post-war period reflected an assurance and optimism. 

Hollywood was slouching toward an artistic reckoning. Glen Frankel in his book Shooting Midnight Cowboy asserts that the studio system had been in decline since the end of World War II for a variety of factors: "the landmark 1948 Supreme Court antitrust decision that stripped the studios of the lucrative theater chains; competition from television and other new forms of entertainment; and the flight of urbanites to the suburbs and subsequent decline of downtown movie palaces."

The cultural shift taking place in the 60's in the wake of assassinations, war, and student protests provided context for that era's shift in subject matter. The narrative we were being fed was beginning to be questioned. In between episodes of Hogan's Heroes and Bonanza, news reports of students being shot by the National Guard were being broadcast. 

In the year of 1970, some of the best films are foreign. There's a long, long, long, list of things I love about this decade. One of my favorites is how the directors taking uncompromising risk wasn't just relegated to US productions. The New Hollywood directors took their cue from the French New Wave, Kurosawa and many other foreign auteurs to be sure. But if anyone thought the arthouse flicks of the 60's were all these directors had to say, the 70's proved them to be profoundly wrong. 

Along with the powerhouse foreign flicks there are strong character pieces, cult classics from Russ Meyer and Alejandro Jodorowsky and strong early works from De Palma and Friedkin. 

So without further ado, here is the list. If it isn't to your liking or if the kitchen is just out of what you desire then you can take these movies and, in the ever so eloquent words of Jack Nicholson, I want you to hold them between your knees.

1. The Conformist

Few characters in fiction are this unsure or cowardly. Few films are this good looking. Jean Louis Trintignant can be thanked for the portrayl of the former. Vittorio Storaro can be thanked for the latter. 

Bertolucci is over the top here. There are surreal sequences, dark humor, the architecture is abstract. It revels in its opulence. So do I.

2. Investigation of A Citizen Above Suspicion

As much as I hate to say it and as much as I loathe American remakes of foreign films, I can't help but think how an Americanized version of this film would play in 2024. Movies about police corruption don't get any better. This is an angry film. One whose mentality is: every politician and billionaire should eat shit and die. 

Elio Petri was a left wing Italian director in the same vein of Pier Paolo Pasolini and Gillo Pontecervo. Having seen first hand what fascism could do to their country, these filmmakers rebelled politically and funneled that rage the only way they knew how: by making films. 

Kafka once said, "Whatever he may seem to us, he is yet a servant of the Law; that is, he belongs to the Law and as such is set beyond human judgment." I often think about this quote when watching this film about the true nature of how power corrupts. 

3. Le Cercle Rouge

Jean- Pierre Melville is the answer I would give if asked "who is your favorite French director?" 

He isn't part of the French New Wave and if I'm being honest I enjoy his films more than anything from Godard or Truffaut. There is a clear cut line from Melville to John Woo in terms of his characters adhering to a code. Only instead of having his preferred leading man (Alain Delon) donning a trench coat, his leading man (Chow Yun Fat) dons a suit. It's their armor in a sense. You can see his influence all over Mann's filmography. 

Le Cercle Rouge is a compelling heist film preceded by a compelling gangster film where the two halves mesh together to elevate both. It excels as the best heist films because you can back the people conducting the heist as they are trying to course correct their lives and exact justice on an unjust world. 

4. Gimme Shelter

The music was good. The sex satisfying. The look on Mick Jagger seeing the freeze frames of a murder captured on film, unforgettable. If the Manson Murders signaled the end of the 60s, the Altamont incident was the nail in the coffin. And the Maysles got it all on film. 

5. Beyond the Valley of the Dolls 

It's hard to overestimate just how fun Russ Meyer pictures can be. Here's one written by Roger Ebert. It has everything you could ever want. Drugs? Check. All female rock band? Check. Lesbians? Check. Tits? This is Russ Meyer we're talkin' about. John Lazar as Z-Man Barzell gives one of the weirdest performances I have seen of this or any year. It's a giant smorgasboard of parties, sex, death, drugs, prostitution, wheelchairs, the beach and an incredible cameo by Charles Napier. 

Out of all the films on this list, this one is the most fun. 

6. Five Easy Pieces

A character study dealing in isolation and society spiraling out of control. Between Nicholson's stunning performance and Laszlo Kovacs cinematography, this has earned its reputation as an iconic achievement of 70s cinema. It's also a portrait of a group of people we don't often see in movies anymore- the working class. 

7. Wanda

"If you don't have anything then you're nothing. You may as well be dead. You're not even a citizen of the United States."

Wanda drifts into malls without buying anything. She falls asleep at matinees. She drinks at the corner of a bar in silence. She eventually runs into a bank robber and they strike out on the road together. There's no romance between the two. These are lost people who drift in an out of other lives. Loden wrote and directed this with a crew of four people on a budget of $100,000. 

8. Hi Mom!

Toward the beginning of his career, Brian DePalma did a trio of flicks with a young Robert DeNiro- Greetings, The Wedding Party and Hi Mom!. Of the three, this is the most complete and shows the promise of a true auteur. The film is good but it gets into masterful territory with the Be Black Baby sequence. I'd go so far as to say this is top 5 DePalma. 

9. Husbands

Cassavetes films guys being guys. Or to be more to the point, guys being bastards. It's one his most aggressive indictments of his characters's humanity. 

This one's all about the performances of Falk, Gazzara and Cassavetes and the immediacy of their minute actions and reactions. 

10. Catch-22

Mike Nichols said of this movie "Catch-22 was a nightmare to make, physically. And everybody on it was unhappy except me. All the actors kept bitching because they couldn't leave. I was as happy as a clam." The production of the follow up to The Graduate was notoriously difficult.Then there was the arrival and the on set antics of Orson Welles. To top it off, this came out in the same year as MASH, which when it premiered was what Catch-22 intended to be- a depiction of the madness of Vietnam refracted through another war. 

All that being said, this is one of the mostt technically impressive films he's made. The long takes, deep space, staging, sound design, non linear storytelling, Sam O'Steen's brilliant editing. It doesn't hurt the first half is gut bustingly hilarious. 

11. Diary of A Mad Housewife

Frank Perry's scathing look at domesticity has no brakes. A full speed downhill slide into gaslighting where Carrie Snodgrass gives the performance of the year. 

12. M*A*S*H

It may have depicted the Korean War, but Altman made it with the intention of a commentary on the absurdity of the Vietnam War. Bringing humor into it and juxtaposing it with operation scenes. Altman has voiced his dislike of the television show. While I haven't seen enough episodes to call myself a fan, I can definitely call myself a fan of this film. 

13. Deep End 

Take Rushmore and submerge it in 70s sleaze. Add Can, Cat Stevens, hotdogs and nightmares. Tweak it to make it be weirder and more unpredictable. It perfectly captures the writhing pains of adolescence.

14. The Nude Vampire

My favorite Rollin flick is in constant rotation. Tomorrow it could be Lips of Blood. Today it's The Nude Vampire. Rollin plays with genre conventions he hadn't done prior, delivering a genre concoction that is freewheeling. It's subjects bop around from nude vampires to devious science experiments, cults and criminal elements. It's messy but Rollin is such a singular visionary that it feels be design. 

Like all of his films, don't you dare watch it before at least midnight. 

15. El Topo

The first true Midnight movie. Jodorowsky doesn't let loose like he does with The Holy Mountain three years later but he doesn't have to. It's still unlike any other western released during this time.  

16. Valerie and Her Week of Wonders

This film came in at the tail end of the Czech New Wave which flourished in the mid to late 60's. This may be the most gorgeous looking film on the list. Visuals loaded with symbolism in regards to a girl transitioning into womanhood. Vampiric nightmares. 

17. The Boys In the Band

Friedkin adapts Pinter. There's a letterboxd review that describes this as Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf but everybody is Elizabeth Taylor and I think that nails this. An intricate and veracious study of American homosexual archetypes. 

18. The Bird With the Crystal Plumage

The first giallo was Bava's Girl Who Knew Too Much in 1963. But if you were to look at the one that synthesized all of the tropes and opened the floodgates, it would be Dario's first feature.  

It's kind of like Scorsese flicks. Yes his first film was Who's That Knocking, but his first captial F Film was Mean Streets. 

Dario had a leg up on everyone with Vitorrio Storaro as the DP and Ennio Morricone as the composer. So it would be nigh impossible to fuck up. 

19. Companeros

Leone may be preferred Sergio, but anyone who counts out Corbucci doesn't know what they are missing. He may not have the epic scope of Leone but what he lacks in that department he makes up for in spades in other departments. 

It basically a remake of his own The Mercenary as far as characters and plot structure go. Yet where The Mercenary almost borders on satire, Companeros is a lot less playful about revolutionary anarchy. Corbucci's left wing messaging in both films puts him as a more political prescient filmmaker than his spaghetti western contemporaries. 

20. The Lickerish Quartet

The 70's were the era where the line between art and erotica and pornography blurred. No other director, except Gerard Damiano, achieved such alchemy as Radley Metzger. 

The viewing audience within the film become just as trapped within the enveloping Borgesian labyrinth as the viewer. The plot is less for structure and more of a connective tissue for dream sequences, flash forwards and flashbacks.