#229. Miller's Crossing (1990)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1-2

 

The Coen Brothers are my favourite filmmakers, and have been for quite a long time now. Visually, tonally, stylistically, and even thematically, they simply make the kinds of movies that I want to watch. And while I don't necessarily adore everything they've ever made, the batting average is high enough that you'll more than likely grow tired of my endless praise before long.

 

For that reason, I chose to lead off with Miller's Crossing, which had never been a personal favourite (the dense opening half hour always kept it at arm's length for me). But, lo and behold, it totally clicked for me this time, so I guess that plan backfired. I've come around on the complicated plot and era-specific dialogue, and I'm finally able to see just how rich and moody the whole thing is.

 

Whether we're talking about the costumes, the comically large sets, the beautiful music, the muted cinematography, the wild set pieces, the squib-heavy violence, the dry humour, or the colourful collection of characters and performances (I'm especially partial to Jon Polito and J.E. Freeman, but everyone shines here), it all makes for a compelling drama, a terrific period piece, and a well-constructed slice of pulp.

 

So not only do I now view this as another Joel & Ethan masterpiece, but I can also recognize it as maybe the first instance in which their bizarre tonal aesthetic (namely, mixing serious tension with borderline-slapstick) came together in a way that only they could make work. It's just a flawless bit of filmmaking, and I doubt I'll give it the high hat ever again.

 

Grade: A+

 

#196. Singin' in the Rain (1952)

 

Prior Viewings: 3-4

 

I usually feel a slight sense of trepidation when it comes to tackling the more popular and acclaimed movies, but not so much here. And I think that's because Singin' in the Rain is so pleasant and likeable and beautiful and entertaining that the positives basically speak for themselves.

 

Like, where to start? The gorgeous Technicolor? The catchy songs? The athletic choreography? The breathtaking pastel sets? The funny dialogue? The sharp industry satire? It's all so marvelously composed and effortlessly executed (despite the fact that these numbers are clearly exhausting) that you can't help but smile through the entire thing.

 

And unlike a lot of musicals from the time (or any time), there's not a single dull moment throughout. The title sequence, "Make 'Em Laugh", and "Good Morning" are all rightfully immortalized, but then you've also got the lovely "You Were Meant for Me", the energetic "Moses Supposes", and the show-stopping "Broadway Melody", as well as a fun showbiz plot and a cute romance in between all the winning numbers. It's about as joyous and perfect as Old Hollywood gets.

 

Case in point: the movie has appeared on pretty much every significant film list there is (including a top ten placement from both the American Film Institute and Sight & Sound), and you almost never hear any objections.

 

Grade: A+

 

#191. Marty Supreme (2025)

 

 

Very few filmmakers give me more hope for the future than Josh Safdie does (sorry, Benny). Between the casting, the camerawork, the music, the humour, and the manic, unyielding energy, I find everything about his style exhilarating. And while I'm sure there will eventually come a day when I set the bar too high for him to clear, that day isn't today.

 

Goddamn, what an spectacular ride. From the sperm opening to the moving ending (both of which are punctuated by sublime needle drops), I adored every second of this movie. It's heartfelt, it's explosive, it's extremely sweaty, and it somehow finds a way to function as both a sports story and a Safdie-esque comedy of errors. Plus, it blends its 1952 setting with an '80s aesthetic and a modern-day mindset in a manner that feels harmonious and fresh. It's all so dazzling that even the presence of Kevin O'Leary couldn't ruin it for me.

 

When I watched One Battle After Another a few months ago, I was pretty sure that nothing else from 2025 would top it. That may still be the case, but the throne's finally got some competition now (I'll rank the ten nominees when I get through all of them, so check back then). And if I do end up giving this one the edge, it'll probably be due to its passion and power, and because it's the year's only movie, at least as far as I'm aware, that contains a shootout between Abel Ferrara and Penn Jillette.

 

Grade: A+

 

#168. The Departed (2006)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 3-4

 

Ever since this one took home Best Picture and Best Director at the Oscars, you'll occasionally hear talk about how they were both largely legacy wins, and that those accolades probably would've gone elsewhere had Raging Bull and Goodfellas not been snubbed in the past. I myself wasn't immune to this line of thinking: The Departed has never not been enjoyably entertaining to me, but the heavy plotting and admittedly mediocre visual palette always kept it from being a personal favourite.

 

That is, until now. Re-watching the movie for the first time in over a decade, I can finally recognize that "entertaining" was an extreme understatement. This is among the tightest, fastest, angriest, most pulse-pounding, tension-mounting, and neatly-packaged (I love stories that manage to tie up every single loose end) thrillers I've ever seen. The whole thing's overflowing with vitriolic dialogue, dark humour, fluid cinematography, flawless pacing, star performances, and aggressive flip phone action, and I had an absolute blast from beginning to end. 

 

Now, is it Marty's "best" movie? Probably not, but I will say that 1) there's some stiff competition in that regard, 2) that doesn't diminish how masterful and downright fun it is, and 3) it's gotta be among his most rewatchable. Once the credits started rolling on this latest viewing, there was a part of me that wanted to run it back, which is an impulse I rarely get, and one that I haven't truly felt since I started this blog.

 

Grade: A+

 

#111. The Last Detail (1973)

 

 

If you wanted to make an anti-establishment movie in the '70s (and it was pretty common practice at the time), you weren't gonna find a more perfect lead than Jack Nicholson. Everything about the guy screams anger, rebellion, and controlled insanity, so he's perfect for a script about powerless men who want to fight the system but know deep down that they never will.

 

It's a somber premise, frankly, and neither Robert Towne nor Hal Ashby shy away from this futility. But they're also willing to indulge in some beer-soaked shenanigans for the time being, with the result being an entertaining and exhausting little odyssey, one that strikes a great balance between comedy and drama (especially because, no matter how silly or stupid the antics get, you never once forget what they're doing or why they're doing it).

 

I also just love the look of this movie. It's got some great wintery atmosphere, and it makes heavy use of long takes and dissolves, all of which emphasize the length of the journey, the sluggish stupor these poor guys find themselves in, and the bleakness of their future. It's simple, straightforward, and character-rich storytelling, which is precisely how I like it. Know what I mean?

 

Grade: A+

#110. Mud (2012)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

The first time I saw this one, it mostly missed me. I don't know if that's because I fell victim to my own expectations or if I was simply hoping for a snappier story, but, either way, it didn't make much of an impression. Now that I've given it a second chance, though, I think I've fallen in love with it.

 

Mud might be quiet and tentative, but it also plays out with such subtle suspense and ambiguous character motivation that every single scene thoroughly gripped me this time around. And because Jeff Nichols examines his coming-of-age themes and ideas through subdued interactions, isolated settings, uneasy atmospheres, and beautiful imagery, it results in a take on love and its complexities that's as poignant and thrilling as it is heartfelt.

 

If you, like me, didn't have much of a reaction to this one after a single viewing, I'd highly recommend a rewatch. Once I knew what tone and pace to anticipate, I couldn't get enough of the way everything gradually unfolded, and felt as though I could've watched these characters in this setting forever. 

 

Grade: A+

 

#93. The Rock (1996)

 

 

Look, I never said I was perfect, okay?

 

When it comes to '90s blockbusters, especially of the action variety, I'm embarrassingly easy to please. But, even with that in mind, I still have to cop to being surprised by how much I enjoyed The Rock. Michael Bay has never exactly been a favourite filmmaker of mine (shocker, I know), and it's not like this one's tonally or stylistically different from anything else he's made. So what was the secret ingredient here?

 

It could be a premise thing. I'm far more into the idea of "Die Hard on Alcatraz" than I am, say, "drillers in space" or "robots in disguise". Or it might be the fact that Bay wasn't leaning too heavily on obnoxious spectacle just yet (frankly, the whole thing feels more like it belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer, which might explain the quality). But I think the most likely answer is also the simplest one, and that's the cast.

 

When you combine the talents of Sean Connery (who's as suave as ever), Nicolas Cage (who's possibly at his most endearing), and Ed Harris (who certainly can't be accused of not committing), the material basically elevates itself. And when you then tack on some sincere humour and a plot involving the US military industrial complex, you're left with a movie that's at or near the top of its class.

 

Truly can't believe I hadn't seen this all the way through before now. 

 

Grade: A+

 

#58. ...And Justice for All (1979)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

We always talk about how disillusioned filmmaking became in the 1970s, but I feel like this one goes under-discussed in that conversation. It's as bleakly cynical as just about anything to come out of that bleakly cynical decade, and it does so while being an absurd black comedy. 

 

That's the great thing about ...And Justice for All, though: through its juggling act of emotions, many of which are at polar opposite extremes, you get a clear and somewhat terrifying mosaic of just how insane and ridiculous the American Legal System really is. You're laughing one moment, you want to punch the screen at the very next, and then you're back to laughing again, which feels exasperatingly true to life.

 

Honestly, everything about this movie is up my alley, even the qualities that probably don't fit (the helicopter scene is a good example; it's overlong and a little goofy for the intended tone, but it's also funny and character-driven enough that I don't care). Beyond the mix of comedy and drama, I love the combative dialogue, the crisp textures, the stand-and-cheer climax, and Pacino's powerhouse performance.

 

As his early movies go, I'd put this one right up there with The Godfather and Dog Day Afternoon. And anyone who disagrees with me is out of order.

 

Grade: A+

 

#50. One Battle After Another (2025)

 

 

Watched at: Cineplex Cinemas

 

I hadn't been to a theater since the release of Knives Out - nearly six goddamn years ago - so I knew it was high time that I finally made a return, and I knew I needed to mark that return with something special.

 

Enter one of the grandest, one of the showiest, and one of the most popular movies of the last half-decade. I've heard nothing but great things about One Battle After Another over the past few weeks, and I'm so, so, so glad to say that it lived up to the hype. From start to finish, this is just an uninterrupted flow of movement, mayhem, thrills, laughs, and uncomfortable sexual tension. And no matter how insane or silly it gets (which is obviously the appeal), the political overtones are so palpable and so frustratingly relatable that the whole thing feels not only sincere, but refreshing.

 

I'm a Paul Thomas Anderson fan. As directors go, he'd easily be in my top ten. But I don't often find myself loving a movie of his after just one viewing. It usually takes more time and patience than that. Not here. This one had me from the very start, and I thought it only got better as it went along. It's too early to say that this might be my favourite work of his, but I will tell you that it's already the conversation, which is saying something.

 

Grade: A+

 

P.S. Oh my god, was that car chase awesome. I genuinely felt like I was on a roller coaster for the bulk of it.

 

P.P.S. Sean Penn's walk in this movie is some of the funniest physical acting I've ever seen.

 

#29. Eyes of Laura Mars (1978)

 

 

Okay, I know I'm predisposed to fall head over heels in love with anything that even remotely resembles giallo, but I really do think Eyes of Laura Mars is much, much better than its middling-at-best reputation. Nearly every aspect worked for me, including the slightly fantastical premise (which would feel out of place in most '70s thrillers, but it fits right in with this tone and subject matter), the creative casting, the eerie-yet-stylish settings, and that awesome Barbra Streisand song.

 

Even the elements most people criticize - the campiness, the slightly out-of-nowhere ending, the generally grimy vibe - was stuff that I enjoyed (honestly, my only complaint is that I wish Raul "R.J." Julia had a bigger role, but that's true of most of the movies he appeared in). The mystery captivated me from beginning to end, as did the storytelling, as did the performances. This may be sleaze, but it's opulent sleaze, which is my favourite kind.

 

And, hey, Irvin Kershner got the job for The Empire Strikes Back because of this movie. So, if nothing else, I can at least sleep at night knowing George Lucas is on my side.

 

Grade: A+

 

P.S. Did Tommy Lee Jones ever look young?

 

#4. Carlito's Way (1993)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Y'know what kind of movies I tend to like? Slightly elevated trash.

 

Okay, maybe "trash" is a bit harsh, but Carlito's Way is absolutely pulpy, what with its cliched characters, corny narration, on-the-nose soundtrack, and flashy settings. But, to me, that's the whole appeal of Brian De Palma (at his best, anyway): wall-to-wall style, an ever-moving camera, and a heavy emphasis on excess and melodrama, yet selling it all with such confidence and sincerity that the emotions remains convincing.

 

Watching this movie for the first time in probably fifteen years, and not really having remembered much of it, I was impressed by the mature and relatively low-key approach it took. There's a lot more restraint going on here than there is in, say, Scarface (though maybe that's not fair; no one watches Scarface for its subtlety). But even with the bulk of it being a quiet character study, it still manages to reach the operatic heights we've come to expect from this director, from the growing sense of tension and paranoia to the genuinely heart-pounding third act payoff. Exactly my kind of stylistic balance.

 

It's too early to say this with any certainty, but there's a good chance I've found my new favourite De Palma movie.

 

Grade: A+