Friday, July 20, 2007

Gateway Films/Directors

Every once in a while, someone will ask me what got me into films. It's a conversation that's always interesting because I enjoy hearing how others got started, too. As for me, I'm relatively new to all this. I enjoyed watching movies when I was growing up, but they were never a priority in my family—we never had cable and were still using an old hand-me-down Betamax machine after everyone else had moved on to the VCR. I do remember one notable title that I still think of as my own gateway film, though the gate really didn't swing wide open until years later. That film is Citizen Kane. I can't remember when or how Kane came to my attention; I just remember really wanting to see it. When I was around 15 or so, I found out that it was going to air on PBS, so I recorded it. I was especially interested in seeing if it would live up to all of the hype. To my absolute delight, it did. This was cinema that somehow felt different.

Then several years passed, and I know I watched films from time to time and even loved some of them, but I didn't actively seek them out or think about them critically. My college offered no film classes (though students there can now minor in film), and since I was an English major/history minor, most of my time went to reading, anyway (not that I regret that).

I've kept a film journal for each year since mid-2003, which was when I started participating in an online film community. When I look back at that year's viewings, I see many mediocre titles on the list. Those were my pre-Netflix days, and I was just getting my feet wet. I relied on my library a lot, and then I finally joined Netflix late in the year and began receiving titles I’d waited a long time to see. I won’t even attempt a top 10 for that year, but I will mention a few films that really intrigued me: Punch-Drunk Love, with its strange and dizzying world of colors and sounds and seesawing emotions; Picnic at Hanging Rock, which provides a mystery it absolutely refuses to solve; A.I. Artificial Intelligence, which is a mess in some ways, but I’ll own up to finding it quite interesting; and Charles Laughton’s curious and brilliant expressionistic gem, The Night of the Hunter.

So I guess I would consider those more early gateway films. I've definitely encountered several gateway directors over the years; they're the ones that stopped me and really shook me up. Bergman, Tarkovsky, and Dreyer are just a few.

Anyway, thinking about this made me look over all of my film journals and try to come up with "best of" lists. More accurately, though, I was looking for the films that had an impact on me. My rules for choosing were loose. I was aiming for 10 titles per year, but I cheated and went with 11. I’m not even sure about the criteria these titles had to meet. Some I've named below are films that deeply disturbed me, maybe even films I have no immediate desire to see again, yet they helped shaped my viewing habits and woke me up to the idea of cinema as an art form. Some of these I started, gave up on, then returned to later. Some may not have struck me at the time, but looking back now, they definitely belong on the list. I limited myself to one title from a director per year, meaning I had to throw out Stalker in favor of Solaris, and Persona for Cries and Whispers. This whole process was tough—now I see why I usually avoid making lists.

2004:
Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979)
Cries and Whispers (Ingmar Bergman, 1972)
La Dolce Vita (Federico Fellini, 1960)
Le Fils (Jean-Pierre Dardenne and Luc Dardenne, 2002)
The Ice Storm (Ang Lee, 1997)
Russian Ark (Aleksandr Sokurov, 2002)
Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (F.W. Murnau, 1927)
Three Colors: Red (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1994)
Touch of Evil (Orson Welles, 1958)
Under the Skin of the City (Rakhshan Bani Etemad, 2001)
Wit (Mike Nichols, 2001)

2005:
L’Argent (Robert Bresson, 1983)
Barry Lyndon (Stanley Kubrick, 1975)
Funny Ha Ha (Andrew Bujalski, 2002)
Hiroshima mon amour (Alain Resnais, 1959)
The Lady from Shanghai (Orson Welles, 1947)
The Marquise of O (Eric Rohmer, 1976)
Ordet (Carl Theodor Dreyer, 1955)
Pather Panchali (Satyajit Ray, 1955)
Solaris (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1972)
Vivre sa vie (Jean-Luc Godard, 1962)
Winter Light (Ingmar Bergman, 1962)

2006:
Badlands (Terrence Malick, 1973)
The Best of Youth (Marco Tullio Giordana, 2003)
Brief Encounter (David Lean, 1945)
Cat People (Jacques Tourneur, 1942)
Grave of the Fireflies (Isao Takahata, 1988)
Onibaba (Kaneto Shindô, 1964)
Red Beard (Akira Kurosawa, 1965)
3 Women (Robert Altman, 1977)
Umberto D. (Vittorio De Sica, 1952)
The Up Series (Paul Almond/Michael Apted, ongoing)
The Virgin Spring (Ingmar Bergman, 1960)

Now I'll turn the question over to you. If anyone would like to share how you got into films or if you have any gateway films or directors, please do.

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10 Comments:

At 10:30 AM, July 23, 2007, Blogger Aaron White said...

My gateway film was Annie Hall. I just wanted a few chuckles, having enjoys Allen's Bananas. What I got was a movie about how people think, live, and try to love. I'd never seen such a thing, or at least I'd never considered watching such a thing. It turns out that watching people try to love one another can be more interesting than light-saber battles.

I saw Citizen Kane soon after (this was all at the tail end of high school) and was lucky enough to see it at the Tivoli Theatre in Chattanooga. It astounded me the way Nabokov's novel Lolita had astounded me earlier that year, and I decided to seek out more films that engaged (and helped us to engage) life more truely.

 
At 1:18 PM, July 23, 2007, Blogger Diane said...

Thanks for the comment, Aaron. I really like what you said about Annie Hall (which I still need to see, by the way).

 
At 3:12 PM, July 23, 2007, Blogger Aaron White said...

I haven't seen Annie Hall in years, but the clip they showed in Visions of Light looked so good that I need to revisit it for the camerawork alone.

 
At 6:40 PM, July 26, 2007, Blogger John Adair said...

Yikes, I read your post several days ago, and I meant to post something then. Well, here I am...

This is both an easy and difficult question for me. Easy because my viewing habits through college were ultra-vanilla. I know when that changed. The wife and I decided to watch an old (read, B&W) movie. So we went to Blockbuster with their pitiful selection, and chose a couple of titles with something in common: All About Eve and The Lady Eve. We had no idea what we were doing, but were overwhelmed by how witty and well-written the two films were. The next weekend it was The Third Man and The Thin Man, and we were sold. That's when things began to open up.

However, the difficult part of the question is the next gateway I walked through, toward even more challenging fare. I am thinking Kieslowski's Three Colors Trilogy opened that road for me. Those films left me believing that film could tap into different--call it transcendent, poetic, or myterious. But it was unlike anything I had seen before.

 
At 11:01 AM, July 27, 2007, Blogger Diane said...

What a great story, John, about you and your wife picking titles with something in common, and wow, y'all picked some great ones. Thanks for sharing that.

I know what you mean about Three Colores. Isn't it just an amazing and beautiful thing when film is transcendent like that?

 
At 11:56 AM, July 28, 2007, Blogger Unknown said...

I think the big change in taste for me came when I saw Jan Svankmajer's Alice and Harmony Korine' Gummo.

 
At 1:09 PM, July 28, 2007, Blogger John Adair said...

Re: Three Colors. Yeah, it is. I've got a friend who has been watching a lot of the great films (even dabbling in a little Bresson) yet who hadn't yet seen any Kieslowski. I've been singing the praises of Dekalog for years, and he's finally going through it (and really enjoying it). I told him Three Colors is next. I can't wait. It's kind of like getting to watch it for the first time all over again!

 
At 4:45 PM, July 31, 2007, Blogger Diane said...

How sad to lose two of the film greats--Bergman and Antonioni--just one day apart.

I was thinking last night that we seem to have very few of the old masters left to us. I'm very glad Rohmer, at 87, has just finished a new film.

 
At 1:41 PM, August 01, 2007, Blogger Aaron White said...

They both lived long and productive lives, so it's a good time to celebrate their lives as we mourn their passing. I plan to watch several films by each of them as soon as I have some time to spare.

 
At 10:39 AM, August 02, 2007, Blogger Aaron White said...

László Kovács is dead too! I've always loved his photography.

 

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