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Rather than arbitrarily selecting my Top 10 Criterion titles, this list defers to my Flickchart rankings. As my Flickchart will grow as I add films, and evolve as I rank them, this list will not be static. I will endeavor to update regularly, but for up-to-the-minute accuracy (and for the entire list), here's the source:
Date of Most Recent Update: 9 October 2014
The detail that struck me most when I first saw this as an adolescent was the observation that the eyewitness had divots on her nose indicating that she regularly wore eyeglasses. For some reason, that was an epiphany for me. It never occurred to me to even notice such things, much less that noticing them could be of literal life-or-death importance. Sure, it's a powerful commentary on fairness versus prejudice, of diligence versus haste and it's gripping as can be with intense performances, etc. But for me, it's those divots that really blew my mind.
I'm almost certain that the circumstances of my first (and so far, only) viewing of this film were directly responsible for why it resonated with me as it did. It was the middle of the night and I was in just the right mood and state of mind to really connect with a film like this, and it held me rapt from start to finish. How strong of an impact did it make? It debuted on my Flickchart at #18/1565.
I was somewhat underwhelmed the first time I saw this, but on second viewing I found myself identifying with it in deeply personal ways. Both viewings took place during my Year of Hell, in which I struggled daily with severe, suicidal depression. The second viewing took place within weeks of what was nearly the end of my life, and I understood then just how frustrated Fellini had become with the pressure to answer the question, "What next?"
Captivating from start to finish, threading everything from domestic drama to "Scooby-Doo" eeriness, amid the backdrop of the Japanese civil war. Ugetsu is one of those movies that made me want to immediately show it to just about everyone I know - which isn't always the case, even with favorite movies, because sometimes I jealously like to keep them to myself. Plus, the supplemental interviews are insightful and hilarious!
Overall, the film is too steeped in melodrama for my taste ordinarily, but because of its structure as an anthology of "episodes", I was able to remain invested throughout. The war torn wreckage of Italy is a powerful setting, but the film's deft telling of the American-Italian relationship evolving is engaging from start to finish.
I dreaded this one, knowing ahead of time what it was about. It's gut-wrenching; one does not merely watch, but rather endure, this film. The fear, the disgust, the anguish...they're as visceral here as film is capable of producing.
It's the film's restraint that makes it so moving. Only once do we see Frédéric (Charles Berling) cry. Everyone else remains composed and stoic.The relationships between people and things, people and the past, and people with one another, are all universal themes and the meditation on them here is thoughtful.
Everything I enjoy about Fellini's storytelling is here, only this time it's mostly a lark.
"Love is humiliation" is as concise a thesis as can be identified for this one. It represents Bergman just before his big international breakout with "Smiles of a Summer Night," but for my money this is the best microcosm of his storied filmography. The richness of symbolism; the intimacy of relationships; the deft use of costumes, lighting and sets to create a world not quite our own...it's all here.
I was spellbound by the rawness and vulnerability from start to finish. Ullmann and Andersson are amazing, and reading the former's memoir has somehow made the film feel even more intimate.