The 25 Greatest Westerns of All Time

It’s almost my birthday, and since I’m a dull individual, I’ll probably spend it marathoning movies of my favorite genre; America’s genre: the Western. The characters, the wilderness landscape, crooked landowners, physical feats of strength and determination, psychological struggles, and personal moral codes – Westerns have it all in spades.

Because it’s probably my favorite genre, I had a very difficult time narrowing down my list for a Top 10. This Top 25 is the best I could do. This list is also definitive – if you disagree with any of the films on this list or their placement, you can safely assume that you’re in the wrong. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. Though I will admit, if you’re a fan of Western Comedies, there are some glaring omissions. Don’t worry, though. I’m saving them for later. Without further ado, put on your spurs and giddy up for the Greatest 25 Westerns of All Time,

25. The Sisters Brothers

The Sisters Brothers flew under the radar for most people. It’s a coproduction between America and France, and directed by Jacques Audiard, in his first English-language film. Based on a novel, The Sisters Brothers follows…the Sisters brothers, Charlie (Joaquin Phoenix) and Eli (John C. Reilly) – two assassins on the hunt of two men who have found a dangerous solution for panning for gold. The two leads play off each other well as the loose-cannon Charlie and at-the-end-of-the-road Eli, as well as Jake Gyllenhaal as one of the two panners. The film is a rambunctious adventure up to its blistering conclusion.

24. The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

This 2-and-a-half-hour epic Western is also based on a novel. Unlike the previous entry, however, there are true events to back this one up. The Assassination of Jesse James is meditative and slow, but it’s beautiful and intelligent. Don’t let my title shorthand fool you, though. The film belongs to Robert Ford (Casey Affleck) – an outsider looking in on the fame that follows the leader of his gang, Jesse James (Brad Pitt). The camera captures the beauty of the landscape as well as the darkness creeping in to Ford’s relationship with James, and though we know how the story will end, the movie still keeps us enthralled the whole way through.

23. The Far Country

From 1950 to 1955, director Anthony Mann and James Stewart collaborated on eight films together – five of which were Westerns. Any one of them deserves a spot on this list, and it nearly came down to Winchester ’73 and The Man from Laramie, but I went with my personal favorite. In The Far Country, Stewart plays Jeff Webster, a cattle driver who makes his way to Alaska during the Yukon Gold Rush. When he crosses paths with the evil Judge Gannon (loosely based on real-life conman, Soapy Smith), the tension is palpable. It only rises as the movie goes on as Webster stops Gannon, scheme after scheme, until it comes to a boiling point – a one-on-one duel that turns into an ambush.

22. Thousand Pieces of Gold

Thousand Pieces of Gold is the sole feature film from director Nancy Kelly, which is a shame. She has such a strong grasp on the Western genre and the female perspective that it’s criminal that this film failed and cost her a career. Rosalind Chao (fans of Star Trek: TNG might recognize her) stars as Lalu, a Chinese woman who is sold to America by her impoverished family. In a Northwest mining town, she is bought to be a wife, then a prostitute, and finally, she is won in a poker game by a man named Charlie (Chris Cooper). With Charlie, Lalu is given the freedom to figure out who she is and create a better life for herself. This Western Romance is at times too sentimental, but it has a lot of heart.

21. Johnny Guitar

If you thought this movie would focus on a man named Johnny Guitar, you would be mistaken. The main character in this film is Vienna (Joan Crawford), the strong-willed owner of a saloon that is at odds with everyone else in town because she is okay with the railroad coming through and she lets outlaws and thieves patronize her establishment. Guitar (Sterling Hayden) is just the latest drifter who stops by for a drink, and luckily, he’s handy with a gun. The antagonism from the townspeople is spurred by Emma (Mercedes McCambridge), a jealous woman who wants to see Vienna dead by any means necessary. When one of the outlaws who frequents Vienna’s saloon rob the bank in town, Emma sees her chance to get her wish. The melancholic ending proves that Johnny Guitar is the ultimate Western Noir.

20. Little Big Man

Dustin Hoffman stars as Jack Crabb, or “Little Big Man”, a white man raised by Cheyenne, who has a foot in both camps. He’s lived a pretty remarkable life, having befriended Wild Bill Hickock and worked under General Custer. He’s also the only white survivor at Little Big Horn. A Western satire for the ages, this movie uses conflicts between Native Americans and white settlers as an analogue for the Holocaust and the Vietnam War. It’s also one, if not the only, film to portray both the Sand Creek Massacre and the Battle of the Washita River (which can only be described as a “battle” because Cheyenne warriors were present at the camp that the U.S. military attacked; it was still a massacre), although it makes no mention of John Chivington, a worse offender to Native Americans than Custer ever was.

19. Buck and the Preacher

This film is all at once a Western classic, a blaxploitation film, and one of the few media portrayals of “Exodusters”, post-Civil War African American settlers who went through hostile Native land and around white plantation owners to make a new home in Kansas Territory. This is Sidney Poitier’s directorial debut, and he also portrays our hero, Buck – a cowboy who acts as Moses to these Exodusters. Along the way, he runs into Reverend Willis Oaks Rutherford (a wily and devilish Harry Belafonte), whom he enlists to help him ward off a group of white raiders. Made just a few years after the end of the Civil Rights Movement, Buck and the Preacher is just as much fun as it is important.

18. The Ox-Bow Incident

The Ox-Bow Incident is the most unsettling Western you will ever watch. Henry Fonda and Harry Morgan play two cowboys who come to town just as news is breaking that a local rancher is dead and his cattle stolen. A posse forms to search for the murderers, and the cowboys join it. Just on the outskirts of the town, they find a trio of men who are unable to provide proof of purchase of the cattle currently in their possession, and so they decide to hang them at sunrise. However, over the course of the night, some men in the posse voice their doubts that these are the murderers they’re looking for. Just before sunrise, they decide to vote on whether or not to hang the three men. I won’t spoil the conclusion here. Suffice to say, this moody Western will grab ahold of you and not let go for days to come.

17. Dances with Wolves

Another directorial debut! This time it’s Kevin Costner behind the camera and in front of it as Lieutenant John Dunbar, a Union soldier who is perhaps a little suicidal. When he helps defeat a Confederate troop, he’s rewarded by being sent to an abandoned fort in Indian Territory. After a confrontation with the Lakota, Dunbar realizes his only chance for survival is to befriend his Native neighbors. Slowly, he integrates himself into their way of life, even taking one of their own for a wife. When he’s captured by U.S. military and charged with desertion, he must be rescued by his new tribe. Realizing he’s a danger to the Lakota with the military out looking for him, Dunbar goes into hiding, never to be seen again. With beautiful cinematography and a majestic soundtrack, this epic Western is a must-watch.

16. The Searchers

Ethan Edwards is the best acting of John Wayne’s prolific career. This isn’t to say there aren’t better movies with John Wayne in them, which this list will prove later, but Wayne is so perfect as the cynical, racist uncle to Natalie Wood’s Debbie, that no other performance comes close. When Debbie is kidnapped by Comanche, Ethan leads a small group to look for her and bring her home, or kill her if she’s been “tainted”. The most harrowing scene in the film comes when Ethan attempts to do just that after five long years of searching. Once he returns Debbie home, we watch through the doorway as Ethan Edwards walks out into the sunset. Not as a hero, reveling in his success, but as a bitter man refusing to accept that the world is changing without him.

15. Destry Rides Again

Tom Destry Jr. (a much younger James Stewart) is a sheriff who is unwilling to carry a gun. Not because he can’t handle one – he’s an excellent marksman – but because he would rather rely on his wit to bring law and order to town. He’s sent to Bottleneck when the previous sheriff goes missing, and in his absence, a crooked saloon-owner named Kent, and his girlfriend, Frenchy (Marlene Dietrich), have got the town in a stranglehold. It’s an uphill battle, but Destry is determined to win the respect of the townspeople and uncover the mystery of the missing sheriff. A riotous Western comedy in it’s own right, Marlene Dietrich’s Frenchy is the source of inspiration for Madeline Kahn’s character in Blazing Saddles, right down to the inability to sing and thick German accent.

14. The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

I mean, what is there to say? You know the movie, you know the score, you know the Mexican standoff scene. Considered the ultimate Spaghetti Western, The Good, the Bad & the Ugly follows three men -the quiet Blondie, the venomous Angel Eyes, and the oafish, double-crossing Tuco – in search of a cache of Confederate gold. With bounty hunters and U.S. military hot on their trails, they must, at times, work with each other and against each other if they’re going to find the grave where the gold is buried. This film was an international success, making Clint Eastwood a mega star and introducing the United States to Lee Van Cleef and Eli Wallach. It also happens to be Sergio Leone’s masterpiece.

13. The Big Country

This is not the last time you’ll see Gregory Peck playing a pacifist seeking peace in an unruly West on this list. But this is the only time you’ll see it in Technicolor. The Big Country is an epic Western centered on a Hatfields and McCoys-style conflict between two families – the Terrills and the Hannasseys – with Peck’s James McKay caught in the middle. McKay is a wise man, who sees the folly of the rivalry, and refuses to let either side goad him into their foolishness. His desire for peace above all costs him his fiancée, Patricia, the daughter of the Terrill patriarch. McKay’s desire for peace is proven right as the confrontation between families comes to a tragic head. A morality tale with fantastic supporting performances from Charlton Heston and Burl Ives, this film, like Gregory Peck, is unwavering.

12. Stagecoach

Stagecoach did more for the Western genre than any other film. It imbued John Ford with his love for wide shots in Monument Valley, it made John Wayne a superstar lead actor, and it brought the Western out of B-Movie Hell and brought it to a place of prominence and prestige. You’ve probably seen some variation of this movie before: A group of strangers meet on a stagecoach as they make their way from Arizona to New Mexico. They have a multitude of reasons to make the trip – a fresh start, meeting family, vengeance – and they have to brave through Apache territory to get there. Along the way, John Wayne’s Ringo Kid, who has busted out of jail to kill the men who murdered his father and brother, falls in love with Dallas (Claire Trevor), a prostitute that has been kicked out of town and must now find somewhere she’s accepted. Action, romance, and great characters – this movie has it all.

11. The Gunfighter

Gregory Peck is Jimmy Ringo, the Gunfighter. Weary of his gunslinging lifestyle and tired of being viewed as an outcast or some kid’s ticket to fame as “the man who shot Ringo”, he decides it’s time to retire and become a respectable member of society. He returns to Cayenne, the town where his wife he hasn’t seen in eight years and the son he’s never met live. Through mutual friends, Ringo is given the chance to plead to his wife to join him in California, but she asks for a year to consider it and see whether he stays out of trouble. At the urging of the marshal, Ringo decides to leave town, but it’s too late. The brothers of a young man Ringo shot and killed in self-defense have arrived and are waiting to ambush Ringo. This film’s conclusion is a meditation on the price of fame and the circular perpetuation of an eye-for-an-eye.

10. Red River

John Wayne is Thomas Dunson, a man who wants a wife, a cattle ranch, and a son. When an attack on the wagon trail deprives him of his wife, Dunson decides to adopt the only survivor of the attack as his son. Fourteen years later, the cattle ranch is a success, but Dunson is a broken and wearied man. He decides to drive the cattle to Missouri in order to sell them and he brings his team, including his adopted son, Matt (Montgomery Clift), along with him. Dunson is a tyrant on the trail and eventually, Matt and Dunson’s men revolt, taking the cattle to Kansas instead. Not one to let any slight go unpunished, Dunson follows their trail. There is plenty of action and romance in Red River, as well as an excellent critique on generational sins and manhood.

9. Cat Ballou

Catherine Ballou (Jane Fonda) is a schoolteacher who returns home to her father’s ranch only to discover that the Wolf City Development Corporation is threatening Frankie Ballou (John Marley) to give up his ranch so they can use it for their own purposes. When Frankie refuses to give in to their demands, they send the killer, Tim Strawn (Lee Marvin), to do what he does best. Cat hires the notorious sharpshooter, Kid Shelleen (also Lee Marvin), in an attempt to save her father, but Shelleen is revealed to be a drunken buffoon – still a crack shot, but past his prime. After the murder of her father, Cat Ballou demands justice from the town of Wolf City, but she doesn’t get it. With a ragtag team, she decides to take matters into her own hands, becoming a notorious outlaw. When she accidentally kills the head of the Wolf City Development Corporation, she finds the town now all too willing to pursue justice. It’s hard out there for a woman. This Western Comedy is equal parts hilarious, dramatic, and action-packed, and Lee Marvin shines as the uproarious Kid Shelleen. There’s also Nat King Cole and Stubby Kaye as two banjo-wielding minstrels to narrate the story.

8. High Noon

Will Kane (Gary Cooper) is getting married when it’s announced that Frank Miller is on the twelve o’clock train, headed for town. This is a problem for Kane, since Miller is a vicious outlaw and Kane is the town’s marshal, and Kane was the one to put Miller behind bars in the first place. He now sees it as his responsibility to do so again. Miller’s gang, including his younger brother, are waiting for Frank at the train station, and when they arrive in town, it will be a very unfair four-against-one. Kane pleads with the town judge, mayor and all his friends in town to help him take care of the Miller gang, but everyone has one excuse or another, except for a fourteen-year-old boy who Kane rightly sends on his way, despite his appreciation of the boy’s courage. His own bride, Amy Fowler (Grace Kelly), urges him to abandon the town, and when he refuses, she abandons him. Come high noon, it’s an empty street as Kane and the Miller gang close the gap between them. This movie plays out in real-time, which increases the tension drastically. High Noon is mostly famous for a great performance by Gary Cooper and being an allegory of the McCarthy era Hollywood Blacklisting. It’s also responsible for its two biggest detractors, Howard Hawks and John Wayne, to make Rio Bravo – a vastly inferior film, but still considered a Western classic.

7. The Treasure of the Sierra Madre

For the record, the actual quote is, “Badges? We ain’t got no badges. We don’t need no badges. I don’t have to show you any stinking badges.” Doesn’t roll of the tongue as well, I know, but I wanted to clear the air. Fred Dobbs (Humphrey Bogart) and Bob Curtin (Tim Holt) are down-on-their-luck drifters when they hear about gold prospecting in the Sierra Madre mountains. Considering their one-off employers seem to have a bad habit of forgetting to pay the two men for their work, they happily go in with a seasoned prospect named Howard (Walter Huston). When they successfully discover gold dust in the mountains, bandits and Federales are the least of their concerns. The real enemy to watch out for is their own unbridled greed. Yes, it’s an old morality tale you’ve heard thousands of times, but no retelling of that tale is as engaging as The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. Twists and turns, double-crosses, and parasites are around every corner, and you can never guess which direction the film will go at any given moment. It’s that kinetic spontaneity that will keep the film with you years down the road.

6. Django Unchained

A German bounty hunter/dentist named Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz) seeks to purchase a slave named Django (Jamie Foxx) because he should recognize the faces of his next big score, the Brittle Brothers. The deal is if Django can point them out to Schultz, then Django is a free man. As they track down the Brittles, Schultz gives Django the opportunity to learn to shoot and read, where he proves to be a natural at both. After they successfully kill the Brittle Brothers, Schultz learns that Django was married to a house slave named Broomhilda (Kerry Washington) before they were sold separately and is determined to reunite them. They find Broomhilda or “Hildi” is a slave at the plantation of Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio), and come up with a ruse to get Candie to sell Hildi to Schultz. The main house servant, Stephen (Samuel L. Jackson), discovers the nature of Django and Hildi’s relationship, and alerts Candie. Multiple gunfights ensue and it’s going to require all of Django’s wit to get out of Candie’s plantation with Hildi alive. Quentin Tarantino is not for everybody. I’m well aware of that, but if you can look past his overindulgences, you can find a charming, action-packed, and surprisingly hilarious send up to Spaghetti Westerns in here. The movie has intensity and swagger, and a multitude of well-defined characters in spades. Django Unchained is one for the ages.

5. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance

Upon entering the town of Shinbone, Rance Stoddard (James Stewart) is immediately attacked by the outlaw, Liberty Valance (Lee Marvin), and his gang. Rance is discovered by Tom Doniphon (John Wayne) who carries Rance in to be treated for his wounds by his girlfriend, Hallie (Vera Miles). Rance works in Shinbone, hoping to set up a law practice, befriends the local newspaper editor, Dutton Peabody, and decides to build and teach a school when he discovers Hallie and a good portion of the town are illiterate. Meanwhile, Valance’s tirades on Shinbone and the surrounding area are getting worse, and Rance decides he better learn to use a gun. Tom attempts to teach him, but soon their time together turns into a competition for Hallie’s affections. When Rance finally confronts Valance, Valance quickly disarms him and aims to kill. Rance reaches for his gun and fires and Valance goes down. Unbeknownst to everyone else, Tom is standing in the bushes with a rifle. Which one was the man who shot Liberty Valance? In the end, it doesn’t seem to matter. “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.” The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is the best film John Ford ever made. It plays into the personalities of its lead actors, but also treats the material with the respect it deserves. It’s a statement – a bold exclamation point on the careers of three Western filmmakers.

4. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

Butch Cassidy (Paul Newman) is the fun-loving leader of the Hole-in-the-Wall gang, and Sundance (Robert Redford) is his quiet, crack shot right-hand-man. Together, with the rest of the gang, they successfully rob a couple of trains, but that alerts the attention of the head of Union Pacific, who sends a posse of lawmen after them. Cassidy convinces Sundance and Sundance’s girlfriend, Etta Place (Katharine Ross), to hide out in Bolivia, which Cassidy inexplicably assumes is an outlaw’s paradise. However, they are soon deprived of that fantasy upon their arrival. Sundance particularly loathes the place. Due to their inability to speak Spanish, they are initially unsuccessful at robbing banks, so they consider quitting the criminal life for good. Their first day as honest-working men ends with their boss being killed by bandits in a shootout. They decide the honest life isn’t for them, and return to their old ways. When they arrive in a small Bolivian town, they are met by the local authorities who have also called in the Bolivian army to help bring down Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. The two friends go down in a blaze of glory and the film ends with the greatest freeze-frame of all time (although, Thelma & Louise gives it a run for its money). The chemistry between Paul Newman and Robert Redford is magnetic, so much so, between this film and The Sting, they are considered one of the greatest on-screen duos of all time.

3. True Grit (2010)

I had to specify the year because I imagine some of you erroneously believed that the original 1969 film would be on this list. If you can handle Glen Campbell and Kim Darby’s acting, more power to you, but for me, the 2010 Coen Brothers version is infinitely superior. Even if you believe that John Wayne is Rooster Cogburn, you can’t deny that Jeff Bridges is the better actor. The Coen Brothers version leans into the quirkiness of the original novel by Charles Portis, and toes the line between humor and action, while keeping the intensity and theme of fruitless revenge intact. If you don’t know the story, Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld) is a strong-willed girl who doesn’t have the time or patience to leave justice against the man who killed her father to anyone else. She pursues Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin) herself, and seeks the assistance of Marshal Rooster Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) to help bring him down. Cogburn is a drunken shell of the man he once was and so doesn’t appear to be much help, but he makes the attempt anyway, and they add Texas Ranger LeBoeuf (Matt Damon) to the mix. At every turn, every person including Cogburn and LeBoeuf tell Mattie that this is no venture for a young girl, but she’s determined. Once they find Tom Chaney with the Ned Pepper gang, she and Cogburn both get the chance to prove their mettle. Bite down and your leather reins and get ready for one of the most glorious finales ever put to film.

2. The Magnificent Seven

The only difference between Westerns and Samurai movies is location, and this film is the proof. The three-hour epic from Akira Kurosawa, Seven Samurai, is the film The Magnificent Seven is based on, and the two are basically equal in their impact. Seriously, how often is a remake as good (or at least pretty close) as the original? This film is packed with an all-star cast. Yul Brynner, Steve McQueen, Charles Bronson, James Coburn, Robert Vaughn, Brad Dexter and Horst Buchholz are the titular seven, and Eli Wallach is their opposition, the leader of the bandit gang terrorizing the poor Mexican villain, Calvera. These seven gunslingers are hired by the village to defend them from Calvera. The fear of the villagers and circumstances eventually cause the seven gunfighters to second-guess their decision to help them. However, when Calvera attacks the village again, the seven rally together and defend the people who have slighted them. In the melancholic ending to this magnificent film, Chris Adams (Brynner) muses that the villagers won the day, but the nature of the gunfighter is to always lose. Great performances, a beautiful backdrop, and one of the greatest film scores of all time are the pillars of this remarkable remake of a foreign film. It’s also a loose inspiration for the plot of the Western Comedy, Three Amigos.

1. Tombstone

If you know me very well, there’s no way you’re surprised this is at the top spot. Tombstone is the movie that got me into Westerns. It’s the story of the Earp brothers, Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan, and their friend, John “Doc” Holliday, their confrontations with the red-sash-wearing Cowboys, building to the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, and culminating in the notorious Earp Vendetta Ride. Wyatt Earp (Kurt Russell), already a famous lawman from his time in Dodge City, joins Virgil (Sam Elliott) and Morgan (Bill Paxton) in the booming town of Tombstone. They establish themselves as runners of a faro table in local saloon, and run into Wyatt’s good friend, the hard-smoking, hard-drinking, hard-gambling Doc Holliday (Val Kilmer). They also meet Bill Brocius (Powers Booth), an important member (and soon to be the leader) of the Cowboys, and Johnny Ringo (Michael Biehn), his best gunman who sees himself as the Fourth Rider of the Apocalypse. When the Earps begin to do what the law won’t do and serve justice, the Cowboys don’t take kindly to it. The Gunfight at the O.K. Corral ends in several Cowboys dead at the hands of the Earps, and the Cowboys retaliate, killing Morgan and wounding Virgil. Wyatt decides to wipe out all remaining Cowboys to finally achieve peace, and Holliday, despite his tuberculosis getting worse and making him bedridden, joins the posse. Thus begins the ultimate showdown, and the best gunfighting montage in all of cinema. A crackling script with dialogue taken directly from the late 1800s, true horse and gun play, wonderful performances, and real moustaches keep the film authentic and exciting. There are cameos and supporting roles from Chalton Heston, Billy Bob Thornton, Billy Zane, Jason Priestly, Stephen Lang, Michael Rooker, and a narration from Robert Mitchum. Above all, there is a once-in-a-lifetime performance from Val Kilmer who embodies the legend of Doc Holliday that anchors the film. “Greatest Western of All Time” hardly does it justice.

Bringing Out the Dead

If someone were to pitch me a Scorsese movie starring Nicolas Cage as a paramedic in the process of going insane, I’d be hooked immediately. And then I’d watch Bringing Out the Dead and be surprisingly disappointed. This is the only collaboration between one of my favorite directors and one of my favorite actors, so it’s a real shame that it doesn’t play out better. Nicolas Cage doesn’t even do any of his somewhat-annoying Cage-isms. But there is something off about the movie, and maybe by the end of this review I will have pinpointed what it is.

Nicolas Cage is Frank Pierce, a paramedic who hasn’t successfully saved anyone in months and is therefore incredibly depressed. He sees the faces of his “victims” everywhere he goes, and suffers from insomnia because of it. Frank just needs a vacation. But there’s no rest for the saints of New York. We follow Frank on three shifts, paired with three different fellow paramedics. There’s John Goodman as Larry; a simple man who sees their job as a reason to be happy because they help people, Ving Rhames as the religious zealot (who is still somehow okay with picking up prostitutes), Marcus, and Tom Sizemore as…Tom, a volatile, ticking timebomb of a man who seems to prefer nearly killing people instead of saving their lives.

Frank responds to a call on the first shift we see him on regarding a man who is in cardiac arrest. At the scene, Frank sees the man’s adult, former-junkie daughter, Mary Burke, and he becomes obsessed with her. It doesn’t appear to be a romantic thing between them, Frank just sees the light of hope when he looks at her. She’s something for him to latch on to and find comfort in when the world around him becomes ever darker.

The movie seems to have a tonal problem. At different points, the film is depressing, goofy, frustrating, helpless, hopeful, and romantic. It never really lands anywhere. It was very strange watching a scene where Frank and Marcus are driving and they flip their ambulance over and I’m laughing intentionally. I do believe screenwriter Paul Schrader intended the scene to feel comedic, but it’s bizarre to be laughing at such a scene in such a movie. Bringing Out the Dead reminds me of another Scorsese film. It’s a dark and depressing, hellish nightmare version of After Hours with a dash of Taxi Driver.

Visually, the movie is uncanny. It looks like it was filmed digitally, even though it was made with filmstock. It’s oversaturated and incredibly grainy, which I think serve a purpose for displaying the inner anguish of Nicolas Cage’s character, who also acts as the narrator, but it can be an assault on the eyes in some scenes. The final shot, riffing on Catholic paintings of Mother Mary holding the Christ child, is a nice touch, however. It also has opening credits that are designed very similarly to those old piracy warnings that played at the beginning of DVDs.

In the end, this Scorsese film gets swept under the rug, and perhaps that is as it should be. I hate to say it, as I have never watched a Scorsese movie that I didn’t like, but this one comes close. Maybe after a repeat viewing I will change my tune, but for now, I will have to settle on the fact that it was one Nicolas Cage’s best performances…and that’s about all it has going for it.

Dumb Money

Dumb Money is a simple movie. The good guys are good because they’re poor, and the bad guys are bad because they’re rich. There’s no room for any depth of character, in fact, any personality at all is a deterrent. Paul Dano, the main reason I was willing to see this movie, plays Keith Gill, a struggling financial analyst who spends most of his time streaming to YouTube and posting on Reddit. He and his wife have a young baby and little money to their names. He spends what little they have on GameStop stock.

Gill’s not necessarily unlikeable, but the only reasons we’re given to care about him are the baby and his financial situation, presented at face value. His brother, Kevin (Pete Davidson in his most Pete Davidson role yet), is completely unlikeable. He’s a jerk to his brother and eats the food that he delivers via DoorDash. He’s a stoner that lives with his parents. I think we’re supposed to like him because of these qualities, but he’s about as tolerable as scraping your bum with a cheese grater.

Keith Gill has something on his side, though: internet culture. He’s a frequent YouTuber, posting livestreams of his financial data, making arguments for why GameStop is a slept-on stock, and he’s also a frequent poster on the subreddit r/WallStreetBets. Because of his wise business sense and his dank memes, he cultivates a massive following, successfully convincing others to buy up GameStop stock simply because he “likes the stock”.

GameStop stock skyrockets as a result, and everyone holding on to their stocks instead of selling it produces a short squeeze on the hedge funds that were short selling the stock, causing some ridiculously rich men to lose a lot of money. When they notice the holes in their pockets, they do everything they can to cut off the tap. The poor nurses and college kids, as well as Keith Gill, watch in horror as the evil rich men switch the rules of the game, causing riotous behavior, such as an increase in TikTok videos. In the end, Congress gets involved and those evil rich men embarrass themselves with having to answer for their actions in a hearing. I think this is supposed to be a victory for the good guys, but I’m not sure. Also, Keith Gill is now a multimillionaire, so I think I’m supposed to hate him too now?

Dumb Money has a very specific audience. It’s a film for the younger generations who believe memes are the pinnacle of comedy, and assume anyone who is wealthier than a broke college student is a bad person. And this is my biggest problem with the movie: it makes me defend the rich guys. People who commit shady business practices (legal or otherwise) where they step on those less fortunate to deepen their pockets are bad people, but they’re not cartoon villains. There’s always a chance for redemption or at least nuance to their character. For instance, did you know that Gabe Plotkin (played by Seth Rogan trying his hardest not to Seth Rogan all over the place), despite bleeding money from the short squeeze, took money from his own compensation to provide his staff with their annual bonuses and continued to donate to Jewish veterans? If your entire knowledge of these events is this movie or Reddit, then you certainly wouldn’t.

On top of its cardboard characterization, the movie is also almost completely tensionless and forgettable. Like most anything you find in the theater, Dumb Money can be an entertaining way to waste a couple of hours, but if you’re looking for something good or fulfilling, or even something more akin to The Social Network, my advice is to look elsewhere.

Stop Making Sense

A24 has just re-released this Talking Heads concert film in 4k in celebration of its 40th anniversary in the coming year, starting this week in IMAX theaters and into regular screenings next week. I’m putting this part at the beginning of the review so you have all the facts and can make the wise decision to get off the internet and to the nearest theater that’s showing what many call “the greatest concert film of all time”. What are you still doing here? Go! It’s not like I’m going anywhere.

For those of you that are just returning from your impromptu viewing experience, or for those of you who didn’t heed my advice because you (1) don’t like good music, (2) don’t like good filmmaking, or (3, and most egregiously) think concert films/music documentaries are a waste of time, here’s my review:

Stop Making Sense is one of the rare instances of blending the two parts of these types of movies. The two parts are the concert being performed and the story the director is telling (usually, it’s a history of the band or the highs and lows of a particular tour), and most of the time, they’re kept separate and the filmmakers go back and forth between the two or simply use the concert footage to fill in gaps of the actual story. In Stop Making Sense, the show, which was repeated over three nights at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood, is the story.

Our first images on screen are of Talking Heads’ frontman, David Byrne’s feet, as he enters the stage with nothing more than an acoustic guitar and a tape player. We see the tape player at his feet before we get the full image of the man, which supposedly is the source of the drum machine beat used to supply rhythm as Byrne goes into a solo performance of their first single, “Psycho Killer”. The director, Jonathan Demme (famous for movies such as Something Wild, the Denzel Washington remake of The Manchurian Candidate, Philadelphia, and this obscure, little film called, The Silence of the Lambs), keeps the focus on Byrne, using heavy amounts of close-up throughout the entire song. At this point, we have yet to see the full stage. Slowly, one song at a time, the rest of the band comes out on the stage, and we get to see a little more of the bigger picture. It’s not until the sixth number, their most recent hit at the time and their highest charting song ever, “Burning Down the House”, do we get a visual of the entire stage.

From then on, the concert is a meditation on theatrics the entire rest of the way through. Minimal use of lighting is used to focus on certain aspects of the bands’ faces and figures. For one of my favorite moments in the film, their performance of “Naive Melody (This Must Be the Place)”, the stage is, at first, lit solely by a decorative lamp that you could find leaning over an armchair in your grandparents’ house. As the song goes on, David Byrne dances with the lamp like Fred Astaire with a coatrack. A little later in the show, Byrne goes backstage and returns in his famous “big suit”, modeled after Japanese Noh and Kabuki costuming and meant to make his head look small.

For all its seeming spontaneity, the concert (and the film) are perfectly choreographed. Byrne dances with his backup singers, runs in place while strumming alongside his rhythm guitarist, and at one point, he even drops his mic stand so he has to sing by hunching over. Because of this meticulousness, it’s impossible to separate the film from what went on behind the scenes. It’s no secret that David Byrne was (maybe still is) a control freak while in the band. He’s even admitted to it and apparently apologized for it. But knowing that detail begs the question: is there an excuse for such behavior when the result is genius?

Despite what’s going on behind the curtain and the emphasis on perfection and detail, the joy shared by the band members in the film is genuine. They’re all smiles and seemingly thrilled to simply be playing music. And the music itself is explosive and exciting. There’s energy emanating from everyone on stage, from the Talking Heads: Byrne, Chris Frantz, Tina Weymouth, and Jerry Harrison, to the backup singers, Lynn Mabry and Ednah Holt, to the camera and lighting crew on stage (one of which gets a microphone in their face to sing a line of a song), and to supporting guitarist and percussionist, Alex Weir and Steve Scales, especially.

Stop Making Sense is pure performance at its most electrifying, and worth a watch to anyone who can’t help but tap their toe to the beat. I still don’t know if I can say it’s the greatest concert film of all time, but it’s certainly a “once in a lifetime” experience.

Carlito’s Way

Very few movies reveal the ending during the opening credits, and even fewer movies can pull it off. Carlito’s Way is one of those movies. The second collaboration between director Brian De Palma and actor Al Pacino is less about what happens and more about how it happens.

Al Pacino plays Carlito Brigante, a drug dealer, freshly released from prison, out to follow the straight and narrow. It’s a hard thing to accomplish when everyone you know, including the lawyer who convinced a judge to let you go free, is elbow-deep in criminal activity. It’s a world where a simple ride along can become a bloody shootout, and it’s not long before he’s wrapped up in that old way of life. Insert quote from The Godfather Part III here.

That aforementioned lawyer is David Kleinfeld, played by an increasingly-erratic, coke-addicted Sean Penn, who looks more like Dr. Steve Brule than you would expect. And while Carlito works his hardest to escape his life of crime, Kleinfeld is just beginning to get a taste for it. There’s also Carlito’s ex-girlfriend, Gail (Penelope Ann Miller before people knew her as Jeffrey Dahmer’s mother in that Netflix series), whom he still loves and wants nothing more than to escape the crime-infested New York City with her for a slice of paradise in the Caribbean.

And it’s that relationship with Gail that sets Carlito’s Way apart from De Palma’s other films. It gives the film a heart and a romantic side, a warmth maybe, whereas other films in his oeuvre are cold and grisly. Carlito has plans. He has dreams, and we so badly want to see him make those dreams a reality, despite knowing from the beginning how his story will end. There’s something deeper here than post-Hays Code Hitchcockian suspense at play, though there is plenty of that.

As with his other films, De Palma shines with his intense camera angles, three-sixty degree shots and kinetic editing. An early shootout in a backroom bar and the final chase through a subway station will have you white-knuckling your armrest and on the edge of your seat. As events unfold on the screen, you will increasingly find yourself hoping and praying that Carlito’s moral code (his way, I guess you could say) is enough to save him from being swallowed up by the lifestyle and city that made him.

Carlito’s Way didn’t receive much attention when it first came out. I presume people saw it as a rehash of Scarface, and therefore decided it wasn’t worth their time. But it has since received more acclaim in the years that followed, and rightfully so. Carlito’s Way deserves to be in consideration for one of Brian De Palma’s best films (alongside Blow Out) and one of Al Pacino’s best performances. It’s rapturous, like a dance on the beach.

Carlito’s Way is available in a brand new 4k edition from Arrow Video.

A Haunting in Venice

The third installment of Kenneth Branagh’s Poirot series, based on the lesser-known novel, Hallowe’en Party, seems to truly find its footing in playing with suspense rather than the typical detective mystery. It feels fresh where the previous film, Death on the Nile, felt sluggish and lost. Unfortunately, by shifting to a more horror/thriller rhythm, the actual detective stuff (finding clues and deducing motives) takes a backseat, which is a problem when your movie is about the second-greatest detective ever put to film (sorry, folks, but the top spot is forever secured by the great Jacques Clouseau).

Kenneth Branagh feels more confident as a Hercule Poirot without confidence than one with. Poirot, in this film, has dropped the arrogance and replaced it with PTSD and the fear that he’s now a has-been. I can’t say whether or not this is accurate to the source material – Hallowe’en Party is towards the back end of Agatha Christie’s extensive catalogue, and I am very slowly making my way through all of them – but I can say it makes the usually-abrasive Poirot a more sympathetic figure. The supporting cast of characters are a mixed bag, but there are some true winners here. Tina Fey shines as the author, Ariadne Oliver, as does Kelly Reilly (of Yellowstone fame) as Rowena Drake.

Rowena Drake is a grieving mother. Her daughter supposedly committed suicide the previous year, but the rumor is that it was actually a murder. Of course, such rumors fly in a house that is haunted by the spirits of several children who were locked in the house long ago, left to die. The rest of the people at the house are tied, one way or another, to the deceased or the house itself, and they plan to spend the night locked in the house to experience a seance from the great Joyce Reynolds (the ever-amazing Michelle Yeoh), who claims she can speak with the deceased Alicia Drake. However, things take a turn when the Medium, Reynolds, unexpectedly falls from a balcony. From there on, it’s up to the great Hercule Poirot to solve the two deaths.

The film is meant to spook and keep you on the edge of your seat, but it also meditates on grief and loss. The stakes feel more personal than the previous films because of it. To increase those feelings, the film is full of dim lighting and uncomfortable close-ups. It fits the mood perfectly.

However, as I previously said, the tone of the film overshadows the actual story. Some of the characters are just there and never really seem invested in what’s going on. There are a few twists along the way as the story unfolds, but the conclusion isn’t a big surprise. And as far as that goes, the film may be at fault for how we get to the end, but it’s not necessarily to blame for that lackluster conclusion in and of itself. That can be blamed on circumstance. Murder on the Orient Express is probably the most famous Poirot mystery because the solving of the case is so unexpected and interesting. And because of this, it makes sense why it was the first story filmed, and also that the case for any mystery to follow would be found wanting. Honestly, there won’t be another shocker until (and if) they do The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, although I’m not sure if that twist ending will translate to film very well.

In the end, there is plenty to love about this movie, especially if you like the previous installments, but if you’re not a fan, you may find yourself not caring or getting bored. As of my writing this, there’s no confirmation on whether or not they will continue to make these, but if they don’t, this is a great conclusion to the series. If they keep at it, they run the risk of petering out. Sometimes, it’s best to quit while you’re ahead. The death knells toll for all.

The Innocent

What if Brian DePalma tried to make a family dramady…and was French? That’s 2022’s The Innocents. It’s equal parts comedy, romance and heist. It has moments where it’s totally grounded, and others where it’s off-the-walls.

Sylvie, who teaches prison inmates theater, falls in love with one of her students, a convict named Michel. She drags her son, Abel, to the prison for their wedding ceremony. Abel is understandably hesitant, especially considering his mother has a history of being romantically involved with prison inmates. Once Michel is out of prison, much of the early film is him trying to connect with Abel, while Abel resists and instead tails Michel, with the help of his best friend, Clemence, convinced he’s setting up another robbery. Classic setup for one of those “we’ve got to learn to get along”-type movies.

Where the film goes off the rails (in a good way) is when Abel’s suspicions prove correct. Michel, fresh out of prison, called in a favor from one of his former buddies to secure a building so he and Sylvie can open up a flower shop with no rent attached. The problem, now, is Michel can’t get something for nothing, and now has to pay for the shop by robbing a semi carrying crates and crates of caviar in order to flip them for a profit. Michel scopes it out and its seems like a perfect setup – the driver stops at the same roadside bar at the same point in his deliveries and always orders the same meal and dessert. After timing the rest stop multiple times, Michel has it down to a science on when and how to extract the caviar. The only problem is that he needs to stall the driver for about 10-15 minutes to ensure a clean getaway, so he asks Abel’s help for a little father/son bonding. When Clemence calls him a chicken for not doing anything exciting in his life after the tragic death of his wife, Abel agrees.

Clemence gets roped in as well, and she and Abel take a crash course in acting, courtesy of Michel, in order to learn how to play a fighting couple convincingly. Once they add a little bit of true life to their performance, they’re ready to go. The heist nearly goes off without a hitch, but is busted by the double-cross of Michel’s work associate. A mad-cap escape sees Abel rush Michel to the hospital and Clemence makes off with the goods. Once things settle down, Abel, in order to prove himself to Michel, Clemence, and, well, himself, goes to make the deal for the caviar. It’s a setup, and Abel is arrested. Michel and Sylvie are no longer on speaking terms for roping Abel into his schemes, but things are looking up. Abel moves past the feeling of self-loathing over his wife’s death and confesses his love to Clemence. They are married in a scene mirroring his mother’s wedding at the beginning of the film.

The Innocent is a good film. Cute, surprisingly tender, and funnier than it probably should be. But the convoluted plot weighs it down, and it doesn’t have enough room to breathe. Really, I think it just tries to do too much, to the point where the ending feels lacking. I wanted more. I wanted crazier. And the ending, while acceptably silly, is just too mild for my tastes. There’s a nod to the DePalma influence in the use of split-screen for a scene, but it doesn’t add much to the scene, and in fact detracts from its focus a bit, and then it never shows up again, so I’m left wondering what was the point. If you can handle subtitles and have some time on your hands, The Innocent is short and charming, and different enough to hold your attention.

Top 20 Christian Films

It’s been awhile since I’ve done a list. I wanted to just stick to “Top 10’s”, but between this and my Top Westerns, I’m finding that to be a limit that I can’t stick to. Anyone who knows me will not be shocked by that fact. Anyway, enough about my shortcomings. Here are the Top 20 Christian Films, the criteria of which is simply whether it has a positive Christian message to it and whether or not it’s good. My apologies in advance to anyone expecting anything from PureFlix on here. Maybe when I do a Bottom 10?

20. Bruce Almighty

Bruce Almighty might be a head-scratcher for some. I remember when it came out it received some flack from Christian circles for making a mockery of God and Christianity, but I assume people who argued that didn’t watch past the first five minutes or didn’t watch the film at all. Bruce may be skeptical at first, and there’s no denying he’s intending to mock God when he decides he could do a better job, but the film is sincere in its take on faith and what Christian humility and service can do for one’s own spirit. The climax of the film is the most beautiful “field moment” (thank you, Say Goodnight Kevin) of any Christian movie ever – a “field moment” is that part of a Christian movie where the main character, at their wit’s end, walks out into a field, hands held high, and cries out to God in total surrender. The only difference is that, in Bruce Almighty, it takes place in the middle of a busy intersection.

19. First Reformed

Paul Schrader has never shied away from religious themes in his scripts, but First Reformed is one of his more obvious ones, as well as a blatant homage to another film on this list, Winter Light. We follow the pastor (Ethan Hawke) of a Dutch Reformed church in upstate New York as he struggles through a crisis of faith. His church attendance dwindles, death and suicide linger around him, others are concerned with the political climate rather than Christian stewardship. It’s enough to drag anybody down, and the reading of classic Christian authors, such as G.K. Chesterton, isn’t helping. It’s hopeless in Hawke’s mind, and he lingers so deeply in despair that his only solution is to go out with a bang. Much like Hawke’s pastor, by the end of the film, we are left with more questions than answers.

18. The Tree of Life

The first of two Terrence Malick films on the list. The Tree of Life is Malick at his most visually stunning. From the opening history of the earth sequence, to the above image towards the end of the three-hour film, there is not a wasted shot. Jumping between timelines, the film loosely follows the life of a boy growing up in Waco, Texas, as he grapples with the contending harshness of his father and the abounding grace of his mother – a personified battle between the Old and New Testament. Philosophical questions plague the boy, Jack, as he grows through his parents dichotomy and the loss of his innocence, until his adult life presents him a vision of the dead coming back to life, giving him a chance to say a final goodbye to his family. Brilliantly performed and unforgivingly experimental, this movie is all at once confusing and beautiful.

17. Sergeant York

Sergeant York was a conflicted man. He saw it as his patriotic duty to serve in the War, but it was his Christian responsibility to “not kill”. His solution, in the film, is to capture his enemies alive and march them all back to his camp…after he’s killed several. Made in 1941, Sergeant York is clearly American propaganda, encouraging everyone to do “the right thing” and get involved in the current war effort despite Christian misgivings, but it’s good propaganda. Gary Cooper is in perfect form as the “aw, shucks”, good ol’ boy, who’s a sharpshooter when it comes to turkeys, but the message of country-over-self keeps this from being higher on the list.

16. Ordet

Morten is a devout man who is struggling. He has lost his wife, his eldest son has no faith at all, his middle son thinks he’s Jesus Christ, and his youngest son is in love with a Lutheran – things couldn’t be worse. Weaving themes of self-righteousness, loss of faith, conflicts amongst different Christian sects, and the desire for faith when everything around you is crumbling into one film is a masterwork of one of the Danish greats, Carl Th. Dreyer. Ordet feels grander in scope and significantly more complicated, which is why it’s on this list over his more well-known film, The Passion of Joan of Arc.

15. Ben-Hur

Ben-Hur is a four-hour epic about a man who just wants to get back to his family. Judah Ben-Hur spends time in prison, as a galley slave, and a charioteer before successfully returning home. Throughout the trials that Judah Ben-Hur endures, he grows increasingly angry, fueling his hate for the man who betrayed him until it consumes him. Jesus Christ appears four times in the story, mostly in the background – his birth, a scene at a well where he gives Judah a drink of water, when he preaches the Sermon on the Mount, and his crucifixion, where Judah recognizes him as the man who gifted him water so long ago and attempts to return the favor. It is the crucifixion where Christ comes to the forefront, and acts as the ending to the film. At seeing Christ on the cross, Judah Ben-Hur’s rage dissipates.

14. Leap of Faith

In Rustwater, Kansas, Jonas Nightengale’s Travelling Salvation Show pulls into town. Accidentally. Their tour bus breaks down and they’re stuck in the dusty town for a few days. Nightengale (Steve Martin) decides to bring his big tent revival to the people in order to raise the money they need for parts. The town is ready to receive the Word. The only catch is Jonas isn’t a preacher- he isn’t even a Christian – he’s a conman out of New York City looking to make the big bucks with his faith healing shtick. Once he witnesses a true, honest-to-God miracle, his faith (or lack thereof) will be shaken to its very core. Slowly realizing the error of his ways, Jonas leaves town in the middle of the night, not wishing to feed the town anymore false gospel. On his way out, he witnesses another miracle and laughs, overcome with the joy of the truth he has discovered.

13. The Last Temptation of Christ

If you’re looking for a movie on the life of Christ, steer clear of this one. In fact, I don’t know if this is a film I’d recommend to most Christians. I’m sure you’ve heard the controversy surrounding The Last Temptation of Christ, so I won’t go into the details, but whatever you’ve heard of this film is probably true. The criticism from the Christian crowd tends to miss the point of it all, though. In the novel this film is based on, the author, Nikos Kazantzakis, prefaces it by saying that his intention was to play with the dual-nature of Christ. Yes, He was all God, but that means He was also all Man, and to think that Christ had to deny himself the life of a normal man – the life we all get to enjoy – makes his sacrifice all the more incredible, and that is something worth considering, even if both the novel and the film stray too far from the all-God side of Christ to emphasize their point.

12. A Man Escaped

A Man Escaped is a POW film by the French director, Robert Bresson. Fontaine is a member of the French Resistance who has been captured and imprisoned by German soldiers towards the end of World War II. His days are spent mostly in solitude, occasionally chatting with one of the lucky prisoners who gets outdoors-time outside Fontaine’s window, or communicating with his neighbor in the next cell over. Fontaine has two things keeping him sane – the hope he has in his eventual escape and the hope he inspires in others, and both come from his unwavering Christian faith. He knows God will make a way for his escape, and it’s his fellow prisoners’ lack of faith that keeps them from joining him. This film is minimalist at its core, which may make the film seem boring to some viewers, but it’s deeply moving and its triumph is inspiring.

11. The Passion of the Christ

The main criticism of The Passion of the Christ is that it’s gore porn. I understand how that could be the view from an outsider, but I think the majority of Christians would agree that the violence showed on screen is the tip of the iceberg for what Christ endured during his trial and crucifixion. Displaying that horror in all of its gruesomeness is compelling and convicting, and necessary, if you want to do this part of the Gospel justice. More praise can be given for Mel Gibson’s use of unknown actors or the original languages used in the film (a particularly bold choice when most Americans are averse to subtitles by default). The film is a lot to take in, and it has a purpose in going to the extremes it goes to. Personal views of Gibson or Jim Caviezel aside, the message conveyed in this film is very basic and very Catholic, but it’s no less important for it.

10. Andrei Rublev

In the mood for a three-hour Russian biographical epic made by one of the most methodical film directors of all time? Understandable if you aren’t, but you’d be missing out on a beautiful piece of cinematic history. Which is not to say that it’s enjoyable to watch, but that’s more up to the individual. Andrei Rublev is set in the 15th century, and follows the titular painter through eight segments. Andrei witnesses horror and pagan violence, but also beauty on the handiwork of God in his trek across the Russian countryside. The film’s director, Andrei Tarkovsky, claimed the purpose of this film was to show “Christianity as an axiom of Russia’s historical identity”, and decides to end the film with a lengthy montage of Rublev’s work, showcasing the beauty in the religious experience.

9. Winter Light

The middle part of a spiritual trilogy from one of the greatest filmmakers of all time, Winter Light finds Ingmar Bergman at his most existential. This film is the clear inspiration for First Reformed, as it follows a preacher of a dying church as he seeks to console what remains of his flock, all the while having abandoned his faith, himself. This film is bleak and cold like the Swedish landscape it was filmed across, but it poses some very thought-provoking ideas, like the idea that the betrayal and confusion of his disciples and the silence of God while Jesus was on the cross is a harsher burden to bear than the physical torture he received. Bergman’s own history with faith (his father was a minister) gets put under the microscope for us to analyze. More vulnerable than wearing his heart on his sleeve, Bergman bears his soul to us.

8. Hacksaw Ridge

Hacksaw Ridge is Sergeant York without the propaganda. And involving a different war. Desmond Doss is drafted to fight in World War II, but his Christian morals prevent him from taking the life of another man. His goal is to become a medic so that he can comply with his country’s demands and stick to his moral code. His seeming self-righteousness makes him several enemies among his fellow soldiers, but he sticks to his beliefs in the face of such adversity and ends up saving those who hated him. He becomes a hero. It’s a little simple and straightforward, and most of the conflict is manufactured, but that doesn’t detract from what makes it great. The movie is a testament to unrelenting faith and a lack of compromise when trials come.

7. The Prince of Egypt

I don’t think anyone who has seen it needs to be convinced of how great this movie is. The animation is gorgeous, the voice acting is superb, and of course, the music is beyond amazing. A relatively faithful adaptation of the Exodus story, we follow Moses from his youth under the Egyptian Pharaoh to his time in the desert, and to his return to Egypt to lead God’s chosen people to their freedom. Sure, it pulls from The Ten Commandments about as much as it does from the Bible, but it tells its story without any compromise on the involvement of God or the harshness of His judgments. In fact, those judgments – the plagues – make for the best segment of the film.

6. Au Hasard Balthazar

When director Robert Bresson wanted to portray a character of pure innocence, he cast a donkey. This will make some people roll their eyes, I’m sure, but it’s accurate to the foundation of the Christian faith to say that, sometimes, people can’t cut it. Besides that, the personification of a donkey is scriptural, as is the opinion that the donkey is a humble beast of burden. The film revolves around Balthazar and the only human to ever show him any kindness, Marie. It’s a tragic story of sin’s abuse of innocence, and it culminates in one of the most beautiful final shots in a film ever. Au hasard Balthazar is not for everyone, and that’s okay, but you can’t do better than this film if you’re looking for a picture of the desolation of innocence in a sinful world.

5. The Mission

Rodrigo Mendoza is the worst kind of human being. He sells people into slavery, and he’s a Cain. He killed his own brother. He finds salvation through conversations with a Jesuit priest named Gabriel, who is in Paraguay, attempting to convert the natives to Christianity. He is successful with Mendoza, and somewhat successful with the natives, until political realignments in Spain and Portugal condemn the mission they call home and demand they move. Mendoza defends his newfound faith and home the only way he knows how – with a sword. The Mission is a testament to the strength of faith when it’s genuine and the detriment a wayward believer can have on a new convert or the overlap of politics and religion can have on entire groups of people.

4. Shadowlands

Based on a play, based on the true story of C.S. Lewis and his marriage to Joy Davidman, Shadowlands is an interesting perspective on romantic love and the plans of humans. It’s also a wonderful story of faith amidst tragedy. Lewis – “Jack” to his friends – meets Joy and immediately finds an intellectual equal. He’s intrigued by her, infatuated with her (in a sense), and when faced with reality that he will lose her, realizes he’s in love with her. It’s an unconventional love story and an excellent portrayal of all four types of love that Lewis ascribed to. It also contains one of my favorite quotes of all time. When questioned by one of his friends as to why he prays when he knows that the future is inevitable, Lewis says, “Prayer doesn’t change God; it changes me.”

3. A Hidden Life

Another film by the wonderfully poetic Terrence Malick, A Hidden Life is another true-story World War II film about a soldier that cannot reconcile his faith and his country’s demand that he fight and kill. The only difference between this film and Hacksaw Ridge – and it is a big difference – is that Franz is Austrian, meaning his country’s authority is Adolf Hitler, and Hitler’s less forgiving of defiance against country than Americans. The film covers a lot of ground, and even though it moves slowly, it earns its three-hour runtime. The film is a meditation on faith under God’s deafening silence and that is a theme that I think should be explored more.

2. Silence

One of Martin Scorsese’s absolute best films, Silence also explores the idea of God’s silence. However, in A Hidden Life, Franz never waivers in his commitment to his faith; in Silence, the Jesuit priest to Japan, Rodrigues, fails. He apostatizes when he is given the ultimatum from Japanese officials to either do so or witness the torture of innocents for his refusal. While Rodrigues does deny Christ to the Japanese government, he dies and is buried with a crucifix in his hand. The film proposes a very interesting thought: Is it okay to deny Christ (even in word only) if it means others will be spared? I don’t have an answer for that, but I don’t believe it’s as cut-and-dry as others might argue, and that’s what makes the movie so incredible.

1. The Gospel According to Matthew

What do you get when you give a copy of the New Testament to an atheist, socialist, homosexual Italian filmmaker? You get the most accurate film portrayal of a biblical story ever. This is not hyperbole. Whereas other films on the subject of Christ add dramatic embellishments or combine portions of the other gospels, Pier Paolo Pasolini’s The Gospel According to Matthew is purely from its source. The dialogue is taken directly from the gospel account, and there are no “Hollywood” additions. To avoid the confusion of celebrity, Jesus is played by an unknown Italian man, and he is played with all the stoicism of a man uncomfortable with being in front of a camera. Pasolini’s motivation for the film is totally nostalgic for a belief he no longer has, if he ever did to begin with, and that distant desire for closeness frames the movie perfectly.

#1198 – Mean Streets

I recently watched this film again, also through the Criterion Channel, after not having seen it since college. I remember when I watched it that first time and thinking, “This movie looks cheap. New York City looks so grimy, and the camera is all over the place.” At that time, I naively considered these flaws of the filmmakers, and enough to make me dismiss the film as a whole. Obviously, I have since changed my tune. Those things still remain, but some are due to budgetary restrictions and therefore cannot affect the merit of the movie as a whole, and some are stylistic choices. Most Scorsese gangster movies have a crisp look to them. NYC isn’t the problem, it’s the people who are grimy. Mean Streets informs us that it’s both, and that, in part, was the intention.

Charlie (Harvey Keitel) is a good boy – he works for his mafia-connected uncle, and therefore has to do some unsavory things, but he’s very concerned with his sense of morality and the salvation of his immortal soul. So concerned that, every time he sees fire, he tries to touch it in hopes he can withstand the heat. Anyone who has ever touched a hot stove knows that doesn’t go well for him. Since the Catholic Church will not absolve him of his sins without him actually confessing them, he attempts to earn his salvation another way.

Enter Johnny Boy, played by a nearly brand-new Robert De Niro. Johnny Boy is the cousin of Charlie’s epileptic girlfriend, Teresa, but more importantly, he’s a ne’er-do-well on the path to eternal damnation. Charlie sees Johnny Boy as his ticket to Heaven. If he can get Johnny to walk the straight and narrow, there’s no way Saint Peter would turn him away. The only problem is that the more Charlie interferes with Johnny Boy’s erratic way of living, the worse it gets. Johnny Boy feels coddled. Some people just don’t want to be saved. His antics not only set his life on a downward spiral, but he begins taking everyone else down with him – particularly Charlie. It all comes to a head in a drive-by shooting in those mean streets. Johnny Boy, Teresa and Charlie are all hurt, but Johnny Boy walks away into an alley where the red, flashing lights of a police car hint at his final destination, and Charlie walks out into the street, baptized in the waters of a broken fire hydrant. Only Teresa is unable to get out on her own, more damaged than the others, requiring the EMTs that get to the scene first to help ease her out of the car. Teresa and Charlie will survive, but while he kneels in the street, and images of the sinful life he is potentially leaving passes before his eyes, Charlie doesn’t even acknowledge the condition Teresa is in. And in that moment, that final scene, we understand how selfish Charlie’s quest to earn his own salvation truly is.

As I said before, my views on this film have changed significantly. Where as once I held Mean Streets with slight disdain, even considering it lower-tier Scorsese, I have now nearly flipped that completely. Mean Streets isn’t just a great film, it’s also pure Scorsese, through and through. It’s full of Catholic guilt, religious imagery (a chat between Charlie and Johnny Boy in a graveyard, where Johnny lays on a grave and Charlie leans against a cross, is particularly excellent), an internal wrestle between saint and sinner, a killer 60s pop soundtrack (one of the first examples of a jukebox soundtrack; the infamous bar brawl scene is set to the Marvelettes’ “Please, Mr. Postman”), tracking shots (that same bar brawl), and a whole lot of New York City.

I read that Scorsese wrote the screenplay for this film (not something he does often) after a talk with actor/director John Cassavetes, where Cassavetes criticized his previous film, Boxcar Bertha, for being uninspired. His advice to a young Scorsese was to make films he’s passionate about. You can feel the passion in Mean Streets. I argue you will not find a film so near and dear to Scorsese’s heart again until 2019’s The Irishman. It’s reflective and thoughtful. It’s genuine. It’s a filmmaker in the middle of insecurity, discovering his voice and, somehow, confidently firing on all cylinders. Martin Scorsese’s third film is, dare I say, a masterpiece, and sits alongside Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and GoodFellas in the discussion for his best.