As I acknowledged last week, I’ve had some time on my hands lately, which has allowed me to catch up on some viewing for this site as well as start getting some writing done. There are posts coming in the next few weeks about TV and books, and of course there’s the ending of this Franchise Friday series, with two more films in the Askewniverse to go.
But I figured that while I had the time, it might be appropriate to get something out that I’ve been meaning to get around to for a while. Every critic hates being asked their favorite films; that list shifts over time and the ranking and inclusions on any given day might change based on mood, circumstance or even weather. But the truth is, we always keep this list in our back pocket anyway, because we know we’ll be asked and we love to talk about movies.
So, today, I’m listing my 20 favorite movies. It might be slightly a month or a year from now, or even tomorrow. But this is where the list settled, and I feel pretty good about it. If you know me personally, most of these entries won’t surprise you. And honestly, it’s probably a fairly unsurprising list. These are pretty popular movies, and while I’d love my list to be a bit more esoteric and quirky, the truth is these are popular, well-acknowledged movies for a reason, so I’m not going to play the art snob just for the sake of it.
What I will ask is for you to share your own list in the comments below!
Now, without further ado, here are…
Chris Williams’ 20 Favorite Films
The Muppet Movie (1979): I wrestled with putting this movie here. I’ve known for a long time that it was in my top five but, truth be told, I was a bit afraid to put it in the top spot. James Frawley’s 1979 movie, which brought Jim Henson’s creations to the big screen for the first time, is rightfully beloved. It’s witty, funny, heartfelt and has one of the all-time great movie soundtracks. I love the fourth-wall breaking humor just as much as I love the earnestness of that “Rainbow Connection” opening. I love that it’s a goofy comedy, a veiled Jim Henson biography, and a celebration of collaborative, creative joy. And yet, I suppose I was embarrassed to say that a puppet movie was my all-time favorite. But I’ve written before about how this movie was there for me at a crucial time. And there’s a reason why I sing “The Rainbow Connection” to my daughter before she falls asleep. And I can’t rightfully express the pure joy I felt in seeing this on the big screen with my kids a few years back, just days before my 40th birthday. I’d love to say my favorite movie is a film that challenges my intellect or is an aesthetic marvel. But you know what I love even more? Saying that my favorite movie is one that just makes me very, very happy. Isn’t that what art is for?
Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981): I limit this list to one film per director. And I could easily slot in Jaws, Close Encounters of the Third Kind or E.T. in this spot (and eventually, I swear I’ll get back to that Spielberg series). But Raiders of the Lost Ark is the rare movie that I am in the mood to watch any time. Spielberg and George Lucas’ collaboration is a perfect piece of entertainment, a no-fat, unrelenting thrill ride that is also a celebration of great, big-screen adventures. It’s exciting and funny, and its stunts and chases are all perfectly executed. It somehow makes the leap from archeological adventure to supernatural horror story in its final act without it ever feeling weird. And towering over it all is Harrison Ford, who takes a character inspired by James Bond and turns him into an intrepid hero who’s also scared of snakes and too often forced to improvise. When I think of why we go to the movies, Raiders of the Lost Ark is the movie I think of.
The Tree of Life (2011): Now we’ll get into artsy-fartsy mode. Terrence Malick’s ponderous, epoch-spanning meditation on family, meaning, suffering and life is beloved by just as many film nerds as it is smirked at by those who rolled their eyes during the film’s extended, wordless creation sequences (they’re out there; I heard them snickering when the lights came on in the theater). This is a movie I return to time and again, allowing my thoughts to return to its musings about our place in the cosmos, the push and pull of sinner and saint within us, and the simple joys of childhood. But when I don’t want the questions, sometimes it’s enough just to sit back, crank up the sound and let the film wash over me. It’s cliche to say this movie is a prayer; but there’s no better way to say it. Malick has the hubris to attempt to create a spiritual experience, and for those who get on the film’s wavelength, he actually succeeds.
Before Sunset (2004): As with Spielberg, I could fill this list with Richard Linklater movies. I love Dazed and Confused, Boyhood, Waking Life and, hell, even School of Rock enough to consider them. I even considered cheating and just putting the whole “Before” trilogy in this space. But the second movie in the series is hands-down the best. It’s a love story that includes nearly no physical contact between its leads. It captures feelings of regret, longing and falling back in love more perfectly than any film I’ve ever seen, while still having time for intelligent, funny conversations about politics, sex and life in your 30s. And it ends on possibly the most perfect final scene I’ve seen, setting up a moment where any sequel would ruin it, before Linklater, Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke returned with a near-perfect one nine years later.
Rocky (1976): Is Rocky Balboa my favorite movie character? It’s quite possible. When Sylvester Stallone wrote this character, there was no way he could have foreseen the life this Philly contender would have in him, still kicking around in movies five decades later. And I love the Rocky franchise, and how it’s the rare movie series to track its hero from his rise to being on top of the world and through the long fall back to Earth. But it doesn’t get better than this lonely, quiet little love story. Stallone creates a man who is a bundle of regret, insecurity and just the tiniest dash of hope. He places him alongside a meek clerk whose own insecurities have paralyzed her, an alcoholic hothead who can’t accept his own failures, and an aging trainer who never achieved his potential. This is a movie where you can feel the emptiness and cold of the Philly streets, and where the biggest victory at the end is just an acknowledgment that you tried your best. There didn’t need to be sequels after it; that the series still continues is a testament to how enduring a character Stallone brought to life.
It’s A Wonderful Life (1946): Almost everyone agrees that this is a masterpiece, but I rarely hear anyone include it on their favorite movies list. And I think that’s because this movie’s status as a Christmas classic has chalked it up to being seen only as a Christmas movie, out of contention for being a true great film. Which is weird, since much of the movie doesn’t take place at Christmas at all. Frank Capra’s masterpiece also has an unfair reputation as a cheesy, schmaltzy work, usually by people who haven’t seen it. But this is a dark movie, and Jimmy Stewart makes George Bailey an often prickly character. It’s a movie for every person who’s ever seen their hopes and dreams disappear under a cover of obligation and responsibility, and who has had moments where they don’t see that their life’s greatest treasures are not far from the end of their own nose. It is dark and harrowing, but it’s also whimsical and funny (Clarence is a treat and Donna Reed a revelation). It’s a near-perfect movie that we do ourselves a disservice by only revisiting once a year.
The Truman Show (1998): Where do you start when talking about The Truman Show? I guess you could talk about how it predicts our age of reality television and a time when the internet allows us to broadcast our entire lives to a watching world. You could talk about Jim Carrey in his first serious role, and how his energy and mania are so necessary to making us believe this character has been raised to be a television personality. But what compels me to keep returning to Peter Weir’s drama is its examination of our desire to insulate ourselves, and the insidious ways we keep ourselves safe at the expense of being fully alive. We actually vacation not far from where the movie was filmed, and I love to visit Seaside when we go. But it’s always a reminder that, for many of us, our highest goal is a lifelong vacation, and that this world has a way of convincing us to play it safe, stay put and just luxuriate, when the human spirit constantly cries out for more. The final passages of this movie, when Truman attempts to leave his confines and comes up against his barriers and his creator, are some of the most moving I’ve seen.
WALL-E (2008): Pixar at its finest. A funny and imaginative warning about our potential future, but centered on one little robot whose curiosity could save the planet. The first half of this is a visual marvel, a funny and quietly affecting love story without words. The last half is a fun bit of social commentary and sci-fi prophesying, and its depiction of a world in which humans grow fatter while staring at screens and tending only to their personal needs is more resonant each year. But the highlight of this film is the funny little romance between WALL-E and EVE, and the “define dancing” sequence is a height Pixar has not surpassed.
Back to the Future (1985): Is there a more perfect, purely entertaining screenplay? Back to the Future is a piece of clockwork, a movie where every single shot and line of dialogue propels the story to the next moment, all culminating in one of the most frantic and fun climactic sequences in motion picture history. But Back to the Future is also a near-perfect film because it’s more than the sum of its parts. Michael J. Fox and Christopher Lloyd are a great buddy duo. Bob Gale and Robert Zemeckis’ script is precise and clever. Alan Silvestri’s score elevates everything it touches. Put together, this is one of the great pieces of pure entertainment.
Fargo (1996): Again, what do I pick for a Coen Brothers entry? I love the madcap, cornpone poetry of Raising Arizona; the bleak, soul-shattering intensity of No Country for Old Men; and the sprawling, character-based lunacy of The Big Lebowski. But with Fargo, every taste of the Coens comes together for a funny, suspenseful and quietly shattering crime epic. There is dark, bloody comedy in the heist gone awry and the villains who perpetrate it. There are tragic setbacks and consequences as its characters grasp at a life they feel entitled to. But the film’s heart is in the quiet heroism of Marge Gunderson, content with her small life with her husband and soon-to-arrive child. “There’s more to life than a little money, ya know,” Marge says in the film’s final moments. “And it’s a beautiful day.” A simple theme that hits hard because of all the chaos we’ve seen go before.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004): Is this the best work of science fiction in the last 25 years? It’s a strong contender. The angst and cynicism of Charlie Kaufman is sweetened by the whimsy and romanticism of Michel Gondry in this sad, inventive romantic drama. The script is a thing of beauty, looping us in and out of consciousness and time as Joel (Jim Carrey) fights his decision to erase Clementine (Kate Winslet) from his memory. The film is both romantic and realistic (its ending is either hopeful or tragic) and the subplot with Kirsten Dunst, Mark Ruffalo, Elijah Wood and Tom Wilkinson explores the ethics of this potential technology without undercutting the romance at its core. A great, brilliant and haunting bit of work.
Die Hard (1988): More than just a great Christmas movie. John McTiernan sweetens the bitter pill that was Roderick Thorp's original novel, turning a mean and cynical terrorism yarn into a thrilling and funny action romp. McTiernan is a master of geography in action, and Jeb Stuart and Steven de Souza’s script is a wonderful bit of construction, ladling in just enough information in its first 30 minutes to fuel the nail-biter that follows. It’s a film made up of all-timer action sequences, each topping the next. But it’s the duel of wits between Bruce Willis’ everyman John McClane and Alan Rickman’s slick thief, Hans Gruber, that makes the film so gripping. It’s potentially the greatest action movie ever made, spawning its own subgenre.
Ghostbusters (1984): I’ve potentially seen Ghostbusters more than I’ve seen any other film. It was a childhood mainstay, and it only becomes funnier the more I see it. It’s a film that shouldn’t work, a high-concept supernatural comedy where the dialogue is even more entertaining than the special effects. Bill Murray is at his comedic height here, but the entire cast is aces. This is a film hard-wired into my DNA, with specific sounds and shots eliciting Pavlovian reactions from me. It was the first movie I ever truly loved, and now approaching my mid-40s, I still love it.
The Godfather (1972): A reminder that this is a list of my 20 favorite films, not the 20 best films I’ve ever seen. If it were the latter, The Godfather would be in the top 3. And in time, this film will rise in my estimation, I’m sure, hampered in my personal rankings only because I first saw it 25 years ago and have only revisited it once, two years back. But Francis Ford Coppola’s epic is rightfully considered one of the great American movies, a sprawling saga of violence, family and spiritual death that feels intimate because of how ably Coppola and his cast bring the Corleones to life. It’s a smart and lavish bit of story-telling and, yes, I prefer it to the more ambitious but slightly colder sequel (which is still a great film).
Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987): I’m going to keep my comments short because you will likely have more of an opportunity to read what I love about this movie in the very near future. But this is the pinnacle of John Hughes’ work, in my opinion. Steve Martin and John Candy are very funny, but they also create real, lived-in characters, and in the midst of all the travel-related shenanigans, the movie sneaks in a story about empathy that is possibly even more powerful today. One of the great ‘80s comedies.
Singin’ In the Rain (1952): I’ve called this the most badass movie ever made, and I stand by it. The musical is an effervescent bit of cinema, possibly the most contagiously joyful film I’ve seen, and it’s fueled by sequences that required precision, dedication and endurance that is nearly unimaginable. But you never feel like it’s something meticulously over-planned; in the moment, everything is smooth, brisk and energetic. It’s a musical filled with all-timers that required more physical dexterity than most action sequences. This movie is bliss in Technicolor.
Taxi Driver (1972): Like The Godfather, this film would be in the top 5 if I was going based on best films, not favorites. But Taxi Driver is a film I don’t revisit often; it’s an often unpleasant, dark bit of work. And yet, it’s possible that its depiction of a man curdled by loneliness and rage is even more important today. I’ve known many Travis Bickles in my life, the isolated, angry loners fueled by their own self-righteousness and need to be seen. It’s a bleak and harsh movie, propelled by Robert De Niro’s all-timer of a performance, and its final act still shocks and horrifies, with its final shot a damning indictment of America that has lost none of its punch.
Hell House (2001): George Ratliff’s documentary hits me personally, and it’s a film I return to every few years and find my relationship to constantly changing. It’s a fly-on-the-wall look at a Texas church putting on a “Hell House,” a haunted house that uses real-life horrors to literally scare the hell out of young people. When I first saw it, I still identified with the believers who wanted to emotionally manipulate people in an attempt to rescue them from eternal damnation. Over time, I’ve been more troubled by the tactics, and intrigued by the way their performances (complete with Oscar ceremony) allows them to flirt with off-limits practices. It’s a stark look at American faith, and over the times, the culture wars have only intensified everything on screen. But the film also captures with clear eyes the faith that fuels them, even if the way its acted out is harmful. It never questions their sincerity.
Groundhog Day (1992): The best Bill Murray movie. Harold Ramis’ film is Ecclesiastes filtered through a romantic comedy lens, a funny and inventive story that packs a deep spiritual and philosophical punch. Only Murray could have made this role work. He can command our sympathy even when he’s unlikable and acerbic, but his transformation into a zen, selfless romantic hero is also believable. It’s the best “time loop” story out there, mixing wit and soul-searching to create a movie that only gets better with age.
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018): I just rewatched this with my kids, and it confirmed that this is the greatest superhero movie ever made. An endlessly inventive, very funny and visually breathtaking bit of animation that celebrates comic book storytelling and brings it to life in a way live-action flicks cannot. Unlike other Spider-Man multiverse stories (which I do enjoy), it’s about more than IP synergy or supporting Peter Parker. It’s about the hero in everyone, no matter their name, gender or race…heck, even a cartoon pig can wear the mask. And unlike last winter’s Spider-hit, the multiverse collision doesn’t just benefit its main hero; just as important are the journeys taken by Peter B. Parker and Gwen. And the animation is creative and joyous; in a decade, we’ll be talking about his film’s influence on other animated projects.
I think objective lists of "the best" movies are practically impossible because the way we experience and admire movies is very subjective. I love this list, particularly how you fearlessly put The Muppet Movie on top. To be honest, even though I like the Muppets, I haven't seen any of their films. 😮 I never even heard of Hell House. Your description kind of reminds me of Jesus Camp, which I have seen. Is it like that?
My top 5 favorite movies:
1. Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga
2. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (Extended Edition)
3. Unbreakable
4. Schindler's List
5. The Passion of the Christ
After that it gets fuzzy. Here's a few more unranked films that I would probably put in my top 10:
Dancer in the Dark
It's a Wonderful Life
Ordet
2001: A Space Odyssey