The PG Cooper List Thread: Gamer Days

The entire plot of Memento is a glitch in the Matrix and Trinity is trying to sort it out before Cypher fucks it up even more.

She's CSI, she shoulda figured that shit out

Got sidetracked with Twin Peaks and some personal shit. Will be back on track moving forward.


76. Malcolm X (Spike Lee, 1992)



Birth to death biopics are often looked at with scorn, but a handful of people really do deserve that kind of epic treatment, and Malcolm X is certainly such a figure. Spike Lee's epic portrait of one of the civil rights movement's most incendiary figures is not only an amazing lesson on Malcolm's life and philosophy, it's also a piece of blistering filmmaking. Despite a three hour and 20 minute runtime, Lee is able to bring tremendous energy to Malcolm X. Of course, it helps that Denzel Washington gives the performance of his career in the titular role. Finally, while being set in a not-to-distant past, Malcolm X is very much about contemporary racism in America. This was true in 1992, and it's true in 2018, and sadly, it'll probably be true decades further on.


75. No Country for Old Men (The Coen Brothers, 2007)



The Coens are known for their quirky sense of humour, so it's interesting that one of their most iconic films is largely humourless. Don't get me wrong, No Country for Old Men has its quirks, but there's not much laughs to be found in the Coens' pitch-black thriller. The film tells a simple story of an average man who takes a bag of money and finds himself in a hellish cat and mouse game with a brutal killer. That simple, Hitchcockian premise is engaging all on its own, and the Coens do a remarkable job creating tense set-pieces and a gripping atmosphere. Beneath the thrills though is an examination of violence in and whether things are actually getting worse, or if it's just a matter of an older generation out of touch. The Coens don't really answer the question, but the asking is itself fascinating.


74. The Big Lebowski (The Coen Brothers, 1998)



Full disclosure, I did not plan to have two Coen Brothers films back-to-back in this list, much less two films so jarringly different in tone. Then again, it is a testament to the Coens' skills that they have two, very different films both with strong spots in this list. The Big Lebowski is widely regarded as the duo's finest comedy, and with good reason. The film offers a collection of fun, highly memorable characters and throws them into a wacky film noir classic. That the protagonist of this noir mystery is an unambitious stoner who just wants to go bowling is certainly inspired, but what makes The Big Lebowski special is more simply the quality writing, leading to a highly rewarding and rewatchable comedy.

73. Fight Club (David Fincher, 1999)



Among other things, Fight Club is one of the most wildly misunderstood films of all-time. Initially marketted as a sort of dudebro action movie, indicted for condoning fascism, and now celebrated by swathes of young men who see Tyler Durden as a hero. The great irony here is the film is really a critique of the Tyler Durdens of the world, not a celebration. Fight Club's first act may be about the dissatisfaction of consumerism, but as the film goes on the focus shifts away from consumerism and towards toxic masculinity. The film is about a young man who combats the disillusionment he feels in archetypal masculine ways of violence and aggression, but only finds such an approach breeds further dissatisfaction. Fight Club may have a keen sense of why young men gravitate towards such ends, but it also shows such paths as destructive and ultimately unfulfilling. Such messages are highly relevant at a time when angry white dudes continue to make certain parts of the internet inhospitable hellscapes. Purely as a piece of filmmaking though, Fight Club is also exceptional. David Fincher brings his typical levels of precision and perfectionism, but the content is a lot more anarchist than the more controlled likes of Seven or Zodiac, and that makes for a fascinating experience.


72. Brazil (Terry Gilliam, 1985)



Terry Gilliam has a knack for making films which are both highly entertaining and highly unpleasant. Brazil is an exemplar of this dichotomy. On the one hand, this is an often hysterically funny comedy with some great bits of Chaplin-inspired slaptick, sharp writing, and comic situations. But on the other hand, Brazil is also one of the darkest, most disturbing visions of a dystopic future society ever put to film. Gilliam was famously riffing on George Orwell's 1984 and his decision to use absurdity to highlight the inefficiency and evil of the totalitarian government at hand was a stroke of genius. Brazil effectively satirizes bureaucracy, excessive consumerism, and technological dependence with great wit, and Gilliam's filmmaking is intuitive. The sheer creativity and world building Gilliam brings to the screen is amazing, and the film close out in a brutally dark piece you won't likely shake.


71. Strangers on a Train (Alfred Hitchcock, 1951)



Given Hitchcock is famous for murder-obsessed thrillers and violent set-pieces, it's significant that Strangers on a Train is one of the legendary filmmaker's most disturbing movies. Much of the dry humour we associate with Hithcock is gone here, and there isn't much in the way of Hollywood glamour either. What we're left with is a gripping thriller about a young man who gets caught up in a weird, violent mind game with a murderous psychopath. This villain is played by Robert Walker, who is unnerving and twisted but in a largely understated way. The noir-esque black-and-white cinematography is fantastic, and plays a crucial role in creating the film's dire, hopeless tone. And then there are the set-pieces, which are uniformly fantastic, particularly a murder scene which is long in its set-up and chilling in the suddenness of the killing. Strangers on a Train may not be the deepest of films, but it's an engrossing story with some memorable characters and brilliant execution.

67. Heat (Michael Mann, 1995)



Heat is perhaps most remembered as a heist movie of sorts, and not without good reason. Michael Mann's depiction of these sort of high-end bankrobbers is highly slick and he hits a good balance of feeling plausible while also being heightened and cinematic. There's also the show-stopping robbery itself, which is an amazing set-piece with some of the well-rendered gunfire in film history. All of these elements are awesome, and a big part of why Heat is remembered so fondly. But I think what puts Mann's masterpiece over the top is its amazing collection of characters. Despite being a crime thriller, Heat actually shares a kinship with Robert Altman-esque hyperlink films about lonely, damaged people trying to find some happiness. Of course, it helps a lot that the two men the movie is built around are Al Pacino and Robert De Niro, who are as good as you'd hope them to be.


66. Jaws (Steven Spielberg, 1975)



Here's to you, thebtskink. Jaws is so good that basically every movie that ripped it off didn't even bother trying to be good. The "shark movie" subgenre is littered with garbage of the most ridiculous levels, along with one, transcendent masterpiece from 1975. So what is it about Jaws that makes it so much better than comparable B-movies? Craft is a big part of it. Steven Spielberg is able to create a plethora of top-notch set-pieces which are highly suspenseful and loaded with memorable moments. But the movie's real secret weapon are the characters. Brody, Quint, and Hooper are all very well-defined characters who are perfectly cast. Robert Shaw is the obvious highlight, but Roy Scheider and Richard Dreyfuss are also great here. Much of the film's suspense, particularly in the third act, comes from wondering just how these three will contend with the shark. The film hits such a perfect balance between a horror film where the natural world wreaks havoc on a local population and a nautical adventure film where three man go on an uncertain and dangerous quest. Whatever way you slice it, it's great entertainment.


65. Annie Hall (Woody Allen, 1977)



It's becoming more and more topical to hate on Annie Hall these days, in large part, I suspect, because of the accusations that have been levied against Woody Allen. The details of that case are complicated, to say the least, but at the end of the day it doesn't do much to change my feelings on Annie Hall, which is one of the best and most insightful films ever made about romance. Allen takes us through the whole relationship of two hip New Yorkers from its flirtatious beginnings, to stagnation, and eventual separation. Both characters are wonderfully written and you really want them to stay together, but as the film goes on, it becomes clearer that these two really don't belong together. It's a little sad, but part of what makes the film so special is its insight that, as important as these sort of relationships feel like in the moment, they don't become all defining. Of course, focusing too much on the film's great romance is to lose sight of some of the film's other strengths. Namely, the clever fourth-wall breaking which must have felt very fresh back in 1977, and for how funny the film is. Annie Hall is where Allen started to move away from making full-blown comedies, but make no mistake, the film is loaded with great dialogue and hilarious scenarios. It may in fact be Allen's funniest films, and it's absolutely his best.

Great list thus far, sir.

Persona is to me Bergman's most essential work. Great blend of his two strengths in domestic drama and surrealism, and Nykvist's cinematography on the island of Faro is stunning and haunting all at once. A lot of his films deal with characters opening up to others, only to see their vulnerability turned against them, and Persona takes this even further by using that vulnerability to alter/claim the character's identity entirely. Fascinating stuff from a true master.

Yeah, it does feel like a summation or peak for Bergman in terms of blending those elements you discuss. I don't know if he ever hit this perfect a balance again.




Sorry, Fight Club's the only film here. I thought I liked Seven more for a long time, but recently my mind's changed on that. Zodiac I love a good chunk of and it was considered, but the third act leans a little too hard in trying to offer resolution where I think the whole point of the story is the lingering obsession. Were I considering films from the 2010s, The Social Network would have considered.

Cries and Whispers and Fanny and Alexander certainly exhibit a great handling of the domestic drama and surrealism as well, but they don't split those elements essentially down the middle like Persona does. While the surreal sequences in those films certainly feel out of the ordinary, in Persona the surrealism and drama blend together (intended certainly) more organically. Through a Glass Darkly achieves this as well, but it's far more intertwined with religion and the protagonist "seeing" God.

Bergman is my favorite director, and he's made a lot of films I consider to be great, but Persona for me will always be his greatest artistic achievement.

Not sure if I would include Fight Club on any list of mine but I'm enjoying seeing Letters from Iwo Jima and LA Confidential, definitely a couple of my favorites. And Heat, always good seeing Heat.

The best "shark movie" isn't even a shark movie. It's Orca: The Killer Whale.

Rewatching Silence, its remarkable how effective the sequences are with the actors speaking directly to the camera. It's all to make you as uncomfortable as possible.

Not just Hannibal, but even Jack Crawford.

Yeah, glad to see Throne of Blood on here. I didn't expect it but it's cool to see. I'm now interested in seeing which other Kurosawa movies make the list.