Top 100 (I've put links to previous entries at the end, for easy access)

60. The Royal Tenenbaums (Wes Anderson, 2001) - Three former child prodigies destroyed by lost love look to rebuild their lives in the shadow of their feckless father (Gene Hackman), who's pretending he's dying of cancer.That's the left-field set-up for this peerless comedy from writer-director Wes Anderson, the creative force behind most of the best films of the last 15 years – namely Bottle Rocket, Rushmore, The Life Aquatic and The Darjeeling Limited. Luke Wilson plays a former tennis pro whose career capitulated when the love of his life, step-sister and playwright Gwyneth Paltrow married someone else. Their sibling, maths genius Ben Stiller, is mourning the death of his wife, whilst holding absurd, impromptu safety drills with his two identically-dressed offspring. So when father Royal Tenenbaum (Hackman) invites the family to share his final days, there's the chance of a new beginning. Or for old wounds to be opened, new rifts created and everything to end in a heap of steaming rubble. The cast of brilliantly-drawn eccentrics include domineering mother Anjelica Huston, morose psychiatrist Bill Murray and next-door-neighbour Eli Cross, a writer of Western novels who's hooked on prescription drugs. As with all Anderson's films, Tenenbaums strikes a perfect balance between offbeat comedy, rank contrariness and sentimental drama, complete with impeccable production design and superb use of music. This one utilises Simon and Garfunkel's 'Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard' to excellent effect.

Favourite bit: Ben Stiller's exchange with his father, as he looks back on a horrible 12 months. "I've had a rough year, Dad." "I know you have, Chassie". It's a moment of blissful calm amidst much offbeat hilarity, and the most touching scene in any Anderson film.

See also: My second favourite Anderson film is always whichever one I saw last, so at the moment that means The Life Aquatic, which sees a neurotic oceanographer with a "gay little earring" undergo a mid-life crisis, while hunting the shark that killed his best friend. Bill Murray is exceptional in the lead, ably supported by Owen Wilson (in a quiet, simply lovely performance), Anjelica Huston, Jeff Goldblum, Bud Cort, Willem Dafoe and Bud Cort. Cate Blanchett's character is a little under-nourished, but that's the only real shortcoming of this meticulous, funny, ultimately heartwarming comedy-drama. Rushmore, Anderson's second film, is regarded by many as his best, charting the fall and rise of an extra-curriculur over-achiever (Jason Schwartzman) as he falls in love with an English teacher (Olivia Williams), befriends a steel tycoon (Bill Murray) and watches as his obsessively-laid plans go disastrously wrong. It's not until he learns a bit of humility that he's able to patch up his life. Rushmore has the tightest, most intelligent structure of any Anderson film, along with numerous fine touches and one-liners. Schwartzman's celebratory meal after the success of his Serpico stage-play is a screen classic.



59. Pixote (Hector Babenco, 1981) - Or City of God, Mk. 1, being a devastating Brazilian portrait of gangsterism borne of poverty. The 11-year-old Fernando Ramos Da Silva is simply incredible as the titular slum child, who flees a reformatory but finds he can only stay alive by pimping and drug dealing. Brutalised by the world and desperately alone, he ends up a murderer. I've seen few films with such an unremittingly bleak view of life or such an ending: offering no resolution, no chink of light, no hope. The star was gunned down by police just six years later, lending a further haunting power to a film that feels utterly, desperately real.

Favourite bit: There's a scene, near the close, that recalls the last pages of Golding's Lord of the Flies. We've grown desensitised to the cherubic protagonist, as he stumbles through a life of crime. Then we see him as one ageing prostitute does - as just a child.

See also: City of God, which plays like an update of Pixote. It's often dizzyingly brilliant, with labyrinthine plotting, spellbinding gold-tinged photography and a compelling storyline.



58. Young Mr Lincoln (John Ford, 1939) - Five years after Judge Priest (#83 in the list), John Ford and screenwriter Lamar Trotti made a second film about an idiosyncratic lawyer battling a gaggle of lynch-crazy southerners. The attorney this time? A young Abraham Lincoln (Henry Fonda, with a false nose that makes him look like Gary Neville). This fictionalised film covers 10 years in the life of the future president, as he loses his first love and graduates from a cabin in Kentucky to a law office in Springfield, Illinois. There he becomes involved in a murder case, coming to the aid of mother figure Alice Brady when her sons are accused of a stabbing, and triumphing over a lynch mob and the spectre of corruption through a mixture of earnestness and one-liners. Fonda's magnificent, sensitive performance lights this masterpiece, with Brady's unexpectedly touching turn (she was generally cast as a snobby, scatty wife) the pick of the supporting turns. This was her last film. Donald Meek, one of the most recognisable character actors of the period, is heinous as the prosecuting attorney. Keen historian Ford had loved and admired Lincoln for years, including him - somewhat perversely - in The Iron Horse, and detailing his assassination and the aftermath in the great 1936 movie The Prisoner of Shark Island. This portrait is not so much rose-tinted as reverential; Fonda said he felt as if he were portraying Christ. Young Mr Lincoln is Ford at his greatest, a poignant, perfectly-phrased chapter of Americana that forms a part of the director's "creation myth" - the making of a nation through grit and goodness. And perhaps a bit of stand-up comedy.

Favourite bit: The onset of winter, as the frost comes and Fonda's young love, Ann Rutledge, departs this earth. It's a stunning transition.

See also: Both The Iron Horse and The Prisoner of Shark Island, featuring "cameos" by Lincoln, are fine films. The first pretty much invented the modern Western, the latter explains where "his name is Mudd" comes from, as Dr Samuel comes to the aid of the president's fleeing assassin, and finds himself imprisoned at Fort Jefferson, run by a sadistic commandant. It has an odd jumble of progressive and offensive attitudes towards black slaves. An excellent early Fonda film, sadly absent from this list, is William Wellman's The Ox-Bow Incident which - like Young Mr Lincoln - shows the dangers of mob rule. The presentation is stunning and the cast utterly superb. Fritz Lang's greatest film, Fury, deals with similar themes and features one of Spencer Tracy's best two performances. The other is Bad Day at Black Rock, which also missed the cut.



57. Broadway Melody of 1940 (Norman Taurog, 1940) - If we ignore the fact that our #56 has a couple of non-diegetic songs (i.e. numbers where the music comes out of thin air, rather than from someone playing it on-screen), then we're crowning this The Greatest MGM Musical of Them All. Bold stuff, hey? Firstly, and crucially, the film boasts the most dynamic dance combo in screen history: Fred Astaire and tap sensation Eleanor Powell. Both confessed that they were terrified of facing off against the only hoofer they thought better than them. But if that apprehension shows, it's in their precision and mastery of the form, rather than any loose steps or one-upmanship. Both Astaire and Powell have an easy rhythm, an eye for eye-popping moves and an understanding that the best acting a great dancer can do is when the music's playing. Cole Porter's score gives them four full numbers together, including two routines to 'Begin the Beguine' that are the most dazzling dance sequences ever put on screen. I haven't qualified that at all: there's just nothing in movies that can touch those dances. Not that Astaire and Powell don't try to top them in this very film, with a 'Jukebox Dance' that was Powell's favourite of her works and a routine to 'I Concentrate on You', crooned by Douglas MacPhail. Other numbers include the verbose, old-fashioned, charming 'Don't Monkey With Broadway', danced by Astaire and second-lead George Murphy with top hats and canes, Powell's nautical 'All Aboard' (a rare chance to hear her singing voice) and Astaire's lovely 'I've Got My Eyes on You'. While few musicals boast complex or original plots, you need something sufficiently developed to hang the songs and gags on. Otherwise you end up with Blue Skies, as Bing Crosby and co sing more than 20 Irving Berlin songs (most of them in their entirety), pretty much in a row. Here the storyline works perfectly. Astaire and Murphy are struggling performers, scouted by impressario Frank Morgan. Believing that Morgan's a process server after Astaire for unpaid debts, the dancers swap identities, meaning that Murphy is erroneously given the main role in a new show that was planned for his buddy. Astaire falls in love with the leading lady, Powell, while Murphy struggles with the steps and starts drinking. In the meantime, Morgan (The Wizard of Oz in the '39 film, and a very gifted supporting actor) tries to recruit novelty acts for the show, whilst chasing showgirls. The catch: he can only afford one mink coat, so he keeps having to pinch it back from his dates when they're not looking. The story is deftly told, with the sort of inspired comic diversions that could only have come from co-scripter Preston Sturges: the bit with the unicyclist is arguably the funniest thing that has ever happened. And yet really it all comes back to the dancing. This was Astaire's triumphant MGM debut - aside from a couple of scenes playing himself in 1933's Dancing Lady - and he pulled out all the stops. The result is an oft-overlooked gem with simply staggering musical numbers.

Favourite bit: Well, I'm torn between Begin the Beguine (Mk. 1), Begins the Beguine (Mk. 2), and the unicycling gag.

See also: The Band Wagon, Astaire's second best MGM film: a wonderful marriage of comedy, romance and Broadway satire. Fred plays an ageing star who embarks on an ambitious Faust musical with pretentious, tyrannical stage director Jack Buchanan, whilst fighting - then falling in love with - leading lady Cyd Charisse. It's smart, sophisticated and tremendously uplifting, with a climactic Mickey Spillane-spoof ballet ('The Girl Hunt') that takes the breath away. It's hard to decide what makes the cut in a list like this, but aside from Up and In Bruges, which I hadn't seen when I compiled this Top 100, it's the film I most regret leaving out. Ah well, it's a shoo-in for a future DVD of the Week.



56. A Star Is Born (Vincente Minnelli, 1954) - This semi-musical remake of the 1937 William Wellman flick casts James Mason as an actor on the slide, giving Judy Garland a foothold in the business as his own life slips into the gutter. It's a gutting, brilliant blend of cynicism and show-must-go-on sentiment that's both appalled and entranced by Hollywood and the starmakers, sycophants and hypocrites populating the film industry. The movie scores big in its performances, with two superb actors giving career-best turns, but its most unexpected pleasure lies in the wonderful interplay between the leads, which seems less like chemistry than alchemy. When they're bantering they're irresistible, and when they're falling apart, it's virtually unwatchable. The film is also lit by a slew of brilliant numbers. Top of the pile are 'Born in a Trunk' – added at the 11th hour – an extended, diverse production number in the 'American in Paris Ballet'/'Broadway Melody' vein, 'Lose That Long Face', a knockabout ode to looking on the bright side, and 'The Man That Got Away', perhaps the best song ever put on screen. In it, the only thing better than what Garland is doing with her body – apparently trying to rid herself of the song via impassioned posturing – is what she's doing with her voice. It had lost the flawlessness of youth, but gained an extraordinary power, as well as a quality and expressiveness akin to Billie Holiday's. Every facet of it is evident in the haunting vocal, which appears when the film is at its most carefree, but foreshadows the movie's central tragedy. The film's invention and heart-stopping evocation of the purest human emotion is perhaps best illustrated by a moment in the 'Born in the Trunk' number. Recounting her singing debut, Garland's vaudevillian (she's playing a character in a number from a film-within-a-film!) goes into corniness overdrive, recalling her dad encouraging her from the wings: "Papa shouted: 'This is it kid, sing…'" A pause, then Garland – dressed in pale blue – starts that old standard with a tranquillity and simplicity that sends a shiver down the spine. "I'll get by," she croons, "As long as I have you..." A Star Is Born is a one-of-a-kind film: love story, fairytale and Hollywood tragedy, with the upsetting subject matter offset by the magnificence of the treatment.

Favourite bit: 'The Man That Got Away' - effectively filmed and extravagantly performed.

See also: Garland's other career highlights: like the charming comedy Listen, Darling (featuring 'Zing! When the Strings of My Heart' and the great 'Ten Pins in the Sky'), the excellent Mickey-Judy vehicle Girl Crazy, neglected classic The Pirate, and Meet Me in St Louis, also directed by first husband Minnelli. Mason's famous role in Anglo-Irish noir Odd Man Out, his grandstanding villain in Lord Jim, his tremendous turn in the disappointing The Shooting Party and his act as a strolling narrator in The London Nobody Knows are a few of the highlights from an idiosyncratic career.


For #s 55 to 51, and links to the earlier parts of the list, please click on the link below right.