The Best First Watches of 2015 Part 1
After the dreck covered in the
worse of my first time watches list, which can be read if you follow the link
HERE, it's worth like the cleansing of a burnt meal with a fine wine to start
covering the first ten best films I saw for the first time, all of which had to
be at least released or premiered before 2015 in the United Kingdom. With one
TV series or two and one film serial included in the whole list, as I am
against discriminating against them when they are the same medium, I also have themed
films (a franchise, a director etc.) together as one entry.
 |
| From http://regmedia.co.uk/2013/07/18/the_picknickers.png |
30. Quatermass II/Quatermass and the Pit (Dir. Rudolph Cartier,
1955-58/TV Mini-Series)
Emphasising the lack of bias
towards television, number thirty is two six episode mini-series from the BBC. It
has felt arbitrary for years for me to dictate television cannot be on these
lists when it's the same medium as cinema and is only watched differently. With
Quatermass and the Pit, not to be
confused with the later feature film adaptation of the series by Hammer Studios, I even watched every episode
in a night's marathon with my fathe, which was by far a greater viewing
experience than with most cinema released films. Amongst the couple of
franchises that I viewed for the first time in 2015, one was viewing all the Quatermass stories baring the 1979
series that ending writer Nigel Kneale's
version of the character and the 2005 live television remake of The Quatermass Experiment. It
originally started out as only watching the three Hammer adaptations, but by chance I started with the TV series,
three in total too, which ironically turned out to be the better versions for
at least two of them. Only two because sadly the original Quatermas Experiment for the BBC has only survived through its
first two episodes, casualties of the lack of archival presentation Dr. Who episodes fells into, but the
others after despite their budgetary limits and lack of Hammer production value are superior than the films made from them.
That's not to say the Hammer films aren't good, particular
with their Quatermass II (1957)
being a gem, but with the TV versions six episodes of Kneale's masterful screenwriting means a lot more character depth, a
lot more British eccentricity, a lot more pacing of events, and a lot more to
digest in the shows' messages. Quatermass
II the TV version manages to even be more cinematic than the film in its
ending by literally ending in orbit thanks to the BBC model department. The
entire experience of all these Quatermass TV shows over the months was a very
delightful one, the kind that would encourage me to visit other BBC television
from the decades particularly in terms of science-fiction and fantasy like this
franchise's ilk. Certainly as someone who only knew of Nigel Kneale through his connection to Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982), he was an incredible
discovery for the year.
 |
| From http://hooniverse.com/wp-content/ gallery/cache/2918__720x540_for-your-eyes.jpg |
29. For Your Eyes Only (Dir. John Glen, 1981)/The Spy Who Loved Me
(Dir. Lewis Gilbert, 1977)/The Living Daylights (Dir. John Glen, 1987)/Casino
Royale (Dir. Martin Campbell, 2006)
The biggest viewing marathon of
the year however in terms of scope, size and effect on me was two months
devoted to all the James Bond films
from Dr. No (1962) on DVD to Spectre (2015) in the theatre, also
including the terrible Casino Royale
parody I've covered, the fifties American TV adaptation of Casino Royale no one brings up barring hardcore fans, and the
unfortunately return of Sean Connery
as Bond in Never Say Never Again (1983)
that should be buried. Sadly there's few franchises from now on that are going
to have the epic nature to them as viewing all these films one-by-onw, many I
never saw before or not since childhood, because this series managed to get
over twenty four entries and is still going. This is not something like the Friday the 13th franchise or the Marvel Universe of now, but a monolith
containing decades worth of cultural politics, enough issues of sexual politics
to skewer and dissect, and enough martinis to have causes permanent liver
failure. In fact the length of the series is as much a factor of why I've
fallen in love with it now after; if there had only been a few films, or if it
was only the dullness of the Pierce
Brosnan entries, than I would have no attachment to them, but six decades
and counting brings up the fact the Bond films represented their eras for good
and bad, as much travelogues and excuses to reveal in other cultures as it was
to enjoy the silly gadgets. Terrible CGI and dumb attempts to turn the series
into an American style film lost each time in favour of real stunts and a
Britishness each time after, whilst with each film Desmond Llewelyn as Q became
an uncle figure to Bond you adored each time he appeared onscreen. It was
surprising how little of the films before the Cole War ended were actually
about the Russians being villains, trying to build up peacefulness between us
and them with only an occassional war hungry maniac trying to ruin it. It was
also an education lesson for anyone that casting European art house and genre
film stars as Bond Girls and villains is the smartest thing you can do
considering the list of people who were cast over the years and how memorable
they nearly all were.
More surprising is how different
my opinion turned out from common perception. Connery is one of the best Bonds, but Goldfinger (1964) and a few others were flawed, whilst Roger Moore's worst two were actually
his first, even A View To A Kill (1985)
a hell of a lot more entertaining if you accepted it's silliness. George Lazenby was unfairly maligned in
his sole entry, whilst Timothy Dalton
is now a personal favourite Bond, his bottling of emotions so entertaining even
if License To Kill (1989) is a Cannon Pictures film with a higher
budget. The less said about Brosnan's
entries however the better though, even GoldenEye
(1995) a weak film, making the Daniel
Craig era a breath of fresh air afterwards.The three chosen reflect those
I'd yet to see and liked. I'd already loved From Russia With Love (1963) and You Only Live Twice (1967) in the Connery years, and as mentioned, Goldfinger was actually a
disappointment. On Your Majesty's Secret
Service (1969) was another I saw and already liked. The Spy Who Loved Me and For
Your Eyes Only proved how good the Roger
Moore era was even if you weren't like me and even found Octopussy (1983) entertaining. The Living Daylights is really the film
I treasure the most even if it's not the best - and I admit to viewing the A-Ha title song as one of my personal
favourites too - while Casino Royale
alongside Skyfall (2012) were great
bookends after the misguided but admirable silliness of Quantum of Solace (2008). Sadly, barring probably one of the most
best title sequences in a long time, Spectre
was a flat conclusion to the marathon, but the experience of it was more than
worth it and the real experience to take away.
 |
| Fromhttp://ak-hdl.buzzfed.com/static/2014-10/15/14/enhanced /webdr07/enhanced-buzz-wide-28047-1413398287-8.jpg |
28. Wes Craven's New Nightmare (Dir. Wes Craven, 1994)
Finally in marathons, there was
the Nightmare On Elm Street series
when I purchased the brick set available in the UK. I left the first, iconic
film to last actually, starting with Freddy's
Revenge (1985) to Freddy's Dead: The
Final Nightmare (1991), the original well known to me whilst the sequels
were uncharted waters. As mentioned in the first of these posts, Dream Warriors (1987), the third and
the first 18 certificate I ever saw as a kid, is actually the least interesting
of the lot. After the late Wes Craven's
inspired premise for the first, and that film still stands up, you have the
homoerotic subtext of the second, Renny
Harlin and the whose-who of special effects creators going insane on the
forth, the fifth redeeming itself with some inspired creativity despite its
blandness and Freddy's Dead being so
weird it's actually compelling. While none of them got on the list, I enjoyed
them all, and despite everything that caused the series to crash and burn, the
fact that the premise was about a killer who murdered people in their dreams
ultimately saves the franchise as, in the height of practical effects and
creative ideas in the eighties, every film has an inspired or bizarre idea to
it even in the dumber concepts. Even if its child killer villain, who was
terrifying in the first film, ends up making wisecracks and riding a broomstick
in a Wizard of Oz parody in Freddy's Dead, such monstrous and strange sights as a girl
being turned into cockroach got used and created in elaborate detail through
practical effects, effects that could still be haunting or freakish even if the
films got sillier.
The entire series is also needed
because, with it, New Nightmare is
even more potent. Scream (1996) is
completely overrated as a meta-commentary on horror cinema with Craven's filmography, done better by New Nightmare through a Lovecraftian
nod of unseen horrors being spread over the entire story of the original
creators and actors being terrified by Freddy Krueger, even Craven himself a victim of abominable
nightmares as he admits that the sequels were needed, no matter how bad, to
keep the real monster called Krueger safely locked up in stories and not
getting into the real world. For this great content - including the nightmarish
dream logic, nods to fairy tales and Heather
Langenkamp's wonderful central performance as "herself" - to work
you need Freddy's Dead and five
previous sequels to exist before it. Like the Bond films, the catalogue even if the quality is bad at times actually
creates a strong foundation for a greater emotional investment, with Craven looking on at embarrassment at
his creation being a quip merchant but not ignoring what had taken place when
he takes it back, using it instead for greater relevance. I've found Craven's films to be inconsistent, which
is a horrible thing to admit when the man sadly passed away unexpectedly this
year, but I ended up with a tribute to the man's best virtues here that also
proves that one great film can justify even the terrible rap songs that scored
some of the sequels' end credits.
 |
| From http://classiq.me/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/ grace-kellys-style-dial-m-for-murder-e1363905689165.png |
27. Dial M For Murder (Dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1954)
A priority for 2016 is watching
the films by acclaimed directors I've yet to get to, from well known titles
that would be on lists of shames for others to obscurities. Hitchcock is one such individual, and
while I was unfortunate not to see the original 3D version, Dial M For Murder's real virtue is how
in a chamber piece limited by sets and actors it manages to boil down all of
his virtues, from his misanthropic black humour to the importance of small
details affecting the narratives, into one great film. Alongside this you also
have his skill at using camera movements and the general high quality technical
quality of his films, making each moment as tense as possible, craftsmanship
that is utterly entertaining. It's also deliciously dark, Ray Milland alone enough to justify the film on the list for how he
almost reveals in wanting to bump off Grace
Kelly.
 |
| From http://www.parkcircus.com/assets/0004/ 8224/ti104479_large.jpg?1341621190 |
26. The Quiller Memorandum (Dir. Michael Anderson, 1966)
In contrast, while a suitably
well made and tense spy drama, it's Harold Pinter's script and the words spoken
which make The Quiller Memorandum as
rewarding too. My first real encounter with Pinter's
voice, the first moment of two politicians in London debating a West Berlin
situation and the food on the menu with the same manner of tone immediately
sets one on a tangent vastly different from James Bond in its political view and poetic, sharp speeches. With Alan Guinness as the eccentric contact
and Max von Sydow as the menacing neo-Nazi leader Oktober, the cast is strong
enough to make every word stand out, the bleakness of the ending still smarting
for me months after seeing the film. It is a stylish film, but The Quiller Memorandum is also a
diagram for how economical filmmaking is just as powerful as being elaborate in
the aesthetic.
 |
| From http://fgmxi4acxur9qbg31y9s3a15.wpengine.netdna-cdn.com/ assets/uploads/blog/ZLASTodin_ass_38a84ae4-11d3-e411-b7d2-d4ae527c3b65.png |
25. The Decline of Western Civilization Trilogy (Dir. Penelope Spheeris,
1981/1988/1998)
Finally making its way to physical
home media in both the US and the UK, the cult acclaim of the Decline of Western Civilization has
been in my ears for years beforehand. The release of the films is a triumph,
but controversially for me the first film, the most acclaimed, is actually the
least interesting of the trio. Still exceptionally good, its look at the growing
American hardcore scene is rich but I confess to finding the musicians in
question even more reckless and shambolic than the hair metallers in the second
film, a catalogue of haphazard music which pumps the blood but, alongside the
interviews, are not the most rewarding of the series. Naturally as a heavy
metal fan seeing The Decline of Western
Civilization II: The Metal Years finally was momentous, but what's
surprising is that for all the car crash moments that are infamous - such as
the notorious interview of Chris Holmes
of W.A.S.P. drunk in his mother's
swimming pool - the sincerity between the scuzz and shocking decadence,
especially from the male and female fans, is so sweet that the sad end of the
musical genre, killed by stagnation before grunge finally got on the radio,
adds tragedy to their words now. Of course, there's also Paul Stanley of KISS laying on a bed with many beautiful women
looking like a perm wearing cherub, thus also succeeding the Spinal Tap-like ridiculousness I was
also hoping for.
My personal favourite of the trio
however is the last talked about, The
Decline of Western Civilisation III, completely wandering off from its
original subject of crust punk music to the fans themselves, living off the
streets and on the extreme outskirts of life. At times depressing, at other
times joyful because of the good humour and energy of its young interviewees,
this is such an underrated music documentary that, to pick a dark horse, it the
most rewarding part of the whole trilogy. The trilogy altogether in general is
a milestone for Penelope Spheeris
herself to be proud off, coming off as an unbelievably charismatic and strong
willed person asking questions and chatting to the individuals in front of her
camera with great, sympathetic ease.
 |
| From http://vadamagazine.com/wordpress/ wp-content/uploads/2013/07/Gaveston.jpg |
24. Edward II (Dir. Derek Jarman, 1991)
Derek Jarman is edging ever so closer to becoming one of my
favourite directors, having seen almost all his feature films as a result of extensive
DVD renting in 2014 and 2015. Not always inspiring me - I admit I found The Angelic Conversation (1985) incredibly
dull - but there have been some great entries in my viewing, Edward II one of last but the best of
the lot. The openly political content of the film in terms of gay rights is
still strong even if it also counts as historical documentation too, but the anachronistic
take on a real British history, existing in an English of cinema of gothic
corridors and mixing World War II era aesthetics, is also incredibly inspired.
There's a really haunting aspect of this film for me personally, depicting the
history of the openly gay Edward II, where
I walked through the secret corridors of Nottingham castle important to the
real history of the king's life as, after his arrest and death by torture, his
son Edward III sent his soldiers to go through those tunnels I walked through
to arrest Edward II's wife Isabella of France and her lover Roger Mortimer for
the act. Only some time before I saw the film, being in them adds a lot to the
film in weight knowing what the historical material Jarman was using was. The film itself is an incredible piece of
work just for the risks Jarman was
willing to take just for dramatic potential. This film can get away with a
musical number out-of-the-blue and make it one of the most emotionally powerful
part of the entire work, an unpredictability one feels badly absence in so many
bland historical biopics.
 |
| From http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CL4x0Y-9LMs/VMWUKTdLoTI/ AAAAAAAA9jM/hVI0ez4qudM/s1600/ganja-and-hess-img.jpg |
23. Ganja & Hess (Dir. Bill Gunn, 1973)
I have covered this film for the
blog, as the first review of 2016, so I will include a link HERE. What I'll add
is that, as someone who'd rather watch these unique, unpredictable horror
movies rather than most of the horror cinema made currently, even if I can
struggle with them sometimes on the first viewing, having a film like Ganja & Hess in my DVD collection and
being able to revisit it multiple times is wonderful.
 |
| From https://severin-films.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/Dougal2.jpg |
22. Dougal and the Blue Cat (Dir. Serge Danot, 1970)
An odd inclusion, a dark blue
horse of the list in fact. One of critic Mark
Kermode's favourite films, his constant referencing of it pushed me to
actually view this theatrical length story for the Magic Roundabout series. I don't actually know if I've actually
watched an episode of the series, but it's still something that has had a
cultural impact on me, enough to know who Zebedee is. I can say regardless
that, viewed with Eric Thompson's
voice work, Dougal and the Blue Cat
is one of those rare family friendly films that can win me over with its
imagination. Being strange and freakish at times also helps, liable to frighten
children still and somehow leading, unlike serious avant-garde short, to me
thinking hard about the important of colours and their effect on people through
its tale of a malicious cat named Buxton who wants to turn the whole world (and
eventually the moon) blue. I wasn't expecting a sweet, stop motion world to
have such a creepy vibe to it nor cause me to think about my relationship with
colours without being pretentious, but Dougal
and the Blue Cat succeeded in both.
 |
| From http://images.static-bluray.com/reviews/7469_5.jpg |
21. The Tenderness of the Wolves (Dir. Ulli Lommel, 1973)
20. Lisa and the Devil (Dir. Mario Bava, 1973)
Alongside Ganja & Hess, these two films prove that 1973 by itself, not
mentioning the early seventies, was a jaw droppingly strong year for unique horror
films. Not getting on the list, but stuck in memory, was Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz's Messiah of Evil as well; in general, baring The Wicker Man which stands over everything else, you can also add Jean Rollin's The Iron Rose, Brian
DePalma's psychdrama thriller Sisters,
Jess Franco's Female Vampire, Theatre of
Blood with Vincent Price, and Flesh For Frankenstein with Udo Kier which is as strong as you could
get for a year. They all prove how good horror can be when its elastic in what
can be done with it, particularly when you get a film like The Tenderness of Wolves, a take on the real life serial killer Fritz Haarmann who, played by the bald
headed and baby faced Kurt Raab, is as
complex and unsettling figure you can get for this type of subject matter.The melding of drama, Euro horror and the influence of producer Rainer Warner Fassbinder, some might
find it surprising that Ulli Lommel can have this and The Boogeyman (1980) in the same career, let alone films like Zombie Nation (2005), but I can proudly
say that this film is as good as it is for his contributions as it is from
everyone from the cinematographer Jürgen
Jürges to the actors.
Lisa and The Devil, thankfully avoiding the drastically changed House of Exorcism cut, is the complete
opposite in tone, a fun and macabre mindbender where, allowed to make whatever
film he wanted, Mario Bava decided to
make a dreamlike, woozy odyssey. Telly
Savalas gets to revel in his performance onscreen (and might've discovered
a love of lollipops), while Elke Sommer goes
through a nightmare journey that somehow ends up on an airplane but makes
completely and utter sense in context of what took place beforehand. Bava is another director growing in
stature for me, and having his films released at their best quality by Arrow
Video is helping matters incredibly. While not on the list, I can add Blood and Black Lace (1964), their 2015
release, as another great first watch, only missing the list by how strong the
candidates around it was. Hopefully, one day, I can see Kill, Baby Kill (1966) for the first time as it was meant to be,
that a personal favourite Danger:
Diabolik (1968) might get a re-release, and that maybe, just maybe, they
might take a gamble on his none horror work like Hercules in A Haunted World (1961) just so I could see what his
aesthetic strengths were like dealing with peplums and westerns.
PART 3 COMING SOON
No comments:
Post a Comment