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This is way more user-friendly, and I love the ability to search by either English or native language - Thanks for all your efforts, swo and skilar!

swo17 wrote: Tue Nov 01, 2022 5:37 am If revisiting the "vote" link doesn't bring up your previously submitted list, skilar can supposedly retrieve a unique link for you.

Once you submit a ballot, the site will offer you a link to edit your ballot. If you save that link, you can use it on any device you like up until the poll closes. And yes, if you lose it, I can easily send you a new one.

Like swo said, if you run into any issues, please mention them in the thread or shoot me a message.

Yeah, amazing new voting system. Really nice work on the multi-language film titles.

A few new viewings for me:

Viy (Kropachyov, Ershov) — As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I love a good movie featuring our dark lord's minions as much as anyone, and while the much-heralded demonic effects of the last few minutes are as fun as advertised, I was disappointed to find myself largely uninvested in the proceedings up to that point. Even after catching up to the tone — much closer to the comedy horror of something like Hausu than I was anticipating — I couldn't quite fully engage with the story before its 78 minutes were up.

Our protagonist is an unlikeable seminary school lout who stumbles into having to minister rites over the corpse of a witch, spending three nights trying to defend himself from dark magic and sinister creatures; I don't know whether Gogol's source novella does more to make readers care about what happens to this young man than the film does, but I found myself more interested in the young woman's father and some of his colorful henchmen than the drunken, bumbling Khoma.

Dragon Inn (Hu) — Despite bumping into the usual ceiling for mid-century wuxia films, King Hu's Dragon Inn uses color, landscapes, and the charms of its two photogenic leads (Chun Shih and Polly Shang-Kuan Ling-Feng) to make it one of the more fun examples of the genre I've seen. I particularly enjoyed the physical comedy of the sibling warriors, especially during the scene with the poisoned wine.

It's also easy to see how the scattered use of wirework here could have been an inspiration for so many for decades; the first moment where one of the villains inexplicably floats from a balcony to a table to a doorway remains exhilarating in a way that belies how many times we've seen similar feats in the decades since.

The Red and the White (Jancsó) — My first Jancsó, and what a mesmeric, transfixing experience, filled to bursting with indelible images and thematic resonance. 

Many films attempt to convey the ridiculous pointlessness of war, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen that concept more effectively illustrated than it is here: the endless, arbitrary seesawing between control and chaos, mercy and cruelty, bravery and cowardice, grace and ugliness, strength and cowardice, respect and desecration pounds home the meaninglessness of the distinctions between these people and their goals, tactics, nations, and ideologies. 

Jancsó’s deliberately malleable treatment of the passage of time only compounds the surreality of this back-and-forth — the events we witness could be happening in more or less real time or a compressed composite of weeks of incident. Armies appear out of nowhere and vanish just as suddenly, journeys of great distance seem to take only minutes, and an individual’s willingness to kill or risk death evolves between scenes as if driven by months of experiences. 

I’m sure there’s been substantial analysis of the significance of clothing, uniforms, and nudity here — it’s such a simple and powerful way to evoke pride and shame, to change identities and roles, to demonstrate one’s power over another, or to evoke allegiances or express individuality. 

There are few better feelings for a cinephile than being exposed to a new (to you) master — I just finished this exceptional film an hour ago, and there’s so much else aesthetically and thematically to consider that I’m already excited to revisit it, to say nothing of further exploring Jancsó’s work. A lock to be near the top of my list for this year.

Oh wow, I envy you your forthcoming voyage of discovery!

I got the Kino set for $25 through the B&N sale, and it’s already looking one of the better film bargains of my life

Especially when you consider how many shorts are included too

Some films worth considering if you haven't already...

Cineblatz (Jeff Keen)
A literal representation of the old idea of throwing everything at the wall to see what sticks and then lighting the house on fire just to be safe. If you see only one Jeff Keen film, make it this one.

Hands Up! (Jerzy Skolimowski)
This feels fairly ahead of its time, though it's hard to tell how much of that is because it was suppressed until the '80s, at which point a section was added in which Skolimowski explores the very nature of revisiting his work and the attempt of others to suppress it. (I could be wrong, but I'm under the impression that if the scenes that call attention to themselves as new were excised, you'd get the film largely as it would have been released in 1967.) Either way, there's a palpable sense of paranoia here that doesn't just go away with a simple regime change.

Impasse (Kijū Yoshida)
For me maybe Yoshida's loveliest film, and most emotionally resonant, with an evocative story about parental detachment when a couple's child is not conceived naturally.

Little Dog for Roger (Malcolm Le Grice)
Fascinating deconstruction of the cinematic medium achieved by simply releasing the reel of film from its constraints, freely revealing the workings outside the edges of the frame even as the illusion of the moving image plays before our eyes.

Marat/Sade (Peter Brook)
I'm not the biggest fan of Fellini/Gilliam-type loudness but in the proper context (e.g. this being a play put on by inmates of an insane asylum) it can work well. Also, if Glenda Jackson is on board, I trust her judgment.

Our Mother's House (Jack Clayton)
It's often said that children are innocents but it may be more accurate to say that they're just not as practiced at being evil. So when the drive for self-preservation kicks in and these little monsters employ all the survival skills that make sense to them from their limited vantage point, there's a fumbling-around sense of discovery there that's far more chilling than, say, some movie maniac resolutely taking victims because of decades-old childhood trauma. I've kind of just misclassified this movie as horror, but it's all certainly lurking there under the surface.

The Point of Noon (Don Levy)
One of the shorts presented as extras on Herostratus (also worth a look for this year). This does a simple trick really well, namely, cutting each shot in time with the spoken narration, with the subjects for both audio and visual elements feeling somewhat random, allowing you to just lose yourself in the rhythm.

The St. Valentine's Day Massacre (Roger Corman)
A lot of fun scenery chewing from a star-studded cast. I'm also a fan of the moralistic narration that tells you the ultimate fates of many of the characters to underlie the futility of their actions depicted onscreen.

7362 (Pat O'Neill)
A living, breathing Rorschach test that will presumably mean something completely different to everyone that watches it. As for me, it's all flowers and rainbows and definitely not 10 solid minutes of cold white steel heavy machinery sex.

Travel Songs (Jonas Mekas)
If you can't wait two months to vote for Walden.

Twelfth Night (Sándor Sára)
Simple short about people in a small village putting on Shakespeare, and what it means to them to have something, anything to do. Greatly elevated by Sára's deft touch, which most of you are hopefully already familiar with from Szindbád (which he lensed).

The Unknown Man of Shandigor (Jean-Louis Ray)
This was Deaf Crocodile's first release and they've had a pretty good track record so far. Judging purely from the cover I wasn't expecting anything quite this bonkers, but I'll take it.

White Calligraphy (Takahiko Iimura)
If those Brakhage films with marks scratched on the frame feel too random for you, here each frame corresponds to the kanji from an ancient Japanese text, which I'm not going to be able to understand anyway and so might as well just take the speed reading approach.

among swo17's recs above:

> Impasse (Kijū Yoshida)

Seconded. Beautiful film. Folks may find it under the Japanese title's literal translation: Flame and Woman.

And besides the obvious things like Accident, Point Blank, the Godards, etc, I'd recommend, in addition to the Yoshida, Bellocchio's China is Near.

swo17 wrote: Sat Oct 01, 2022 3:55 pm VOTE HERE UNTIL NOV 20

Reminder that voting ends Sunday

A few more write ups of new viewings and revisits ahead of the close of this list; some of these are recent and some were done earlier this year before the 1960s list was extended:

Marketa Lazarová (Vláćil) — A hypnotic blend of gorgeous imagery, rapturous sound design, and a storytelling style that reveals itself like a flower opening — only gradually and belatedly revealing what is happening within and between scenes with a control that kept me invested in its mysteries and never frustratedly outside them. 

Vláčil and cinematographer Beda Batka often wield their camera like a plow, pushing constantly through reeds, branches, snow, and grass to reveal action and character with a half-obscured lens from a ground level; just as often, the camera floats omniscient and unrestrained through memory, imagination, and fantasies. Similarly, the use of sound veers from simple realism to distorted and dislocated speech to a soaring choral score, sometimes all in the same scene.

More impressive than any single technical element, though, is the mastery of Vláčil’s storytelling: the elliptical, indirect manner of introducing characters, implying the significance of unclear behavior, or revealing events occurring off-screen. This could have resulted in a baffling jumble of underdeveloped characters and motives, and instead every scene rewards concentration and contemplation and builds upon and connects to those before and after in unsurprisingly elegant and efficient ways. A masterpiece on first viewing, and one that has already grown in my estimation in the 48 hours since I watched it.

Playtime (Tati) — While the whole film has visual wit to spare — I think I laughed at pure shot composition more often in watching this than any other single film I've ever seen — Tati's structural choices do Playtime a disservice by following up the near perfect mise-en-scène and mastery of color that characterize the opening forty-five minutes with the merely consistently delightful scenes at the apartments and the nightclub. It's all worth watching, but that sense of slow deflation as the film rolls amiably toward a shrug of an ending makes the film's lackluster response from contemporaneous audiences easier to understand.

Still, too many fantastic uses of depth, perspective, and camera movement to count, and the lack of any kind of character-based emotional engagement is more or less replaced by the contented warmth I felt just basking in Tati's constructions.

Branded to Kill (Suzuki) — I was far more shocked by how little I enjoyed watching this than by any of its transgressive content or formal distortion: this kind of fragmented, surreal, heightened chaos is usually right up my alley, but I found the delirium here grating rather than exhilarating.

I rarely feel like I have to work to give a film my attention, but I was really slogging my way through the middle portion, even pausing a few times times to read or wander off before coming back to grit through another 10 minutes or so. There are certainly some memorable images, but there are roughly as many that seemed unintentionally spare and unrewarding, and I was so disengaged by the end that even though I found the filmmaking in the climactic boxing ring sequence more compelling, I could scarcely bring myself to focus on the actual plot developments.

I'll definitely keep working on Suzuki, but revisiting this will have to come after at least a few years of palate cleansing.

Belle de Jour (Buñuel) — Another of Buñuel's remarkably simple narratives adorned with enough wit and perversity to feel both captivating and dangerous. This is one of the best depictions of the painful reality of how the particularities of one's sexual compulsions can be near-impossible to reconcile with societal expectations and at the same time unrelenting and irrepressible.

The way Buñuel handles the opening sequence is so masterful: smoothly transitioning from bucolic idyll to escalating unease to outright terror, then capping it off with a perfectly executed cut that manages to be both one of the single funniest bits of editing in film history and a wildly effective and efficient revelation of character that primes us for the entirety of the remaining film. There are other instances of stellar imagery and filmmaking throughout, but that cut will forever be the first to come to mind (perhaps followed by Deneuve caked in mud).

Deneuve, Piccoli, and Clémenti are all fantastic, people with similar (and similarly socially unacceptable) desires primarily differentiated by how honest and open they are about them and what lines they're willing to cross to indulge them. Clémenti in particular manages to convey Marcel's deranged instability and a primal intensity that makes apparent how Séverine would find him irresistible — both on a surface level of basic attraction and in the depths of her masochism.

The Young Girls of Rochefort (Demy) — It never ceases amaze how Demy can serve up more than two hours of pure cotton candy sweetness — dappled with more than a bit of tangy dark comedy — without ever making me feel sick of it. The way the plot will play out is obvious once the characters are introduced (give or take a dismemberment) so there’s really nothing to do but savor the colors, the gliding camera, the beautiful people moving beautifully, and the surprisingly catchy songs.

Seemingly unwilling to part with any of the tropes of the romances that inspired his homage, Demy packs them all in: love at first sight, love for an imagined ideal woman, lost loves reunited, meet-cutes over a spilled handbag in the street, near misses between perfect matches, coincidence and luck and misunderstandings. It all works, the music is lovely, and the lyrics are lively and funny: it may not have the emotional power of some of the other top examples of the genre, but it belongs beside them all the same.

The one important element that no one planned or wanted: Deneuve and Dorléac are so good together and on their own that the film gains an extra layer of poignancy as a bittersweet tribute to the older of the sisters and her unrealized potential.

In the Heat of the Night (Jewison) — For a decent stretch of the runtime, it seemed like this would manage to succeed at being both an atmospheric murder mystery and bracing social drama. Instead, the latter ultimately overshadows and renders inert the mystery element, which isn’t enough to sink the film but still keeps it from reaching the potential of the opening half-hour. 

Poitier’s best moment comes early on after being half cajoled and half coerced into examining the victim’s corpse: the way his exasperation with the ignorant undertaker and incompetent doctor is gradually overtaken by his professional competence reveals everything about Virgil Tibbs and the mix of pride and ability that so enervates the Mississippians he finds himself assisting and provoking in equal measure. 

Jewison and Silliphant’s script convey the the professional, social, and political forces tugging at Steiger’s chief of police with a lighter touch than so many imitators have managed since: it’s clear almost immediately during his first appearance at the murder scene how overmatched he is by this kind of crime, yet he exhibits the kind of capabilities a small-town cop could survive on in the amusingly anti-climactic chase over the bridge. The parting exchange between Steiger and Poitier is a bit too neat and pointed, but prior to that the abrasive relationship between the two men effectively probes at but never quite overcomes the calcified beliefs and assumptions that prevent them from truly connecting.

As a former resident of the Mississippi Delta, I thought it was fairly apparent that the production wasn’t actually filmed there (for obvious and understandable reasons), but for the most part not distractingly so. On the other hand, the childish entitlement and seething impotence shared by white characters occupying opposite ends of the socioeconomic spectrum like Endicott and Purdy remains pretty spot on for the region, unfortunately.

Bonnie and Clyde (Penn) — It’s been a looong time since I saw this on VHS as a teenager, and as I rewatched it I was reminded of some of the issues I had even then: the middle section feels a little saggy at times; some of the recurring dynamics between Bonnie and Blanche, Bonnie and Clyde, and Clyde and his penis get a little repetitive; the southern fried soundtrack can be a little grating.

But seeing this in hi-def widescreen with good sound for the first time really makes its iconic elements pop, particularly the still-smoking sexual provocations of the opening ten minutes and the still-shocking brutality of the final scene. I’ve never forgotten the sight of Dunaway brushing that coke bottle against her lips and stroking the barrel of Beatty’s pistol or the cruel indignity of their sudden executions, but I’d also never felt them this intensely.

Dunaway is just pure smoldering danger from the first shot of the film to her last glance at Beatty just before the roar of the submachine guns —the quick cuts between their last looks at each other are so vital to the lasting power of that scene, one last assertion of the magnetism and vitality that made them so memorable just before those qualities are ripped out of them. 

It certainly isn’t flawless or even great, but Bonnie and Clyde absolutely earns its place as a hinge point in American cinematic history by searing its best moments into your brain with a permanence that long outlasts any trace of the imperfections.

DarkImbecile wrote: Sat Nov 19, 2022 6:58 am
Playtime (Tati) — While the whole film has visual wit to spare — I think I laughed at pure shot composition more often in watching this than any other single film I've ever seen — Tati's structural choices do Playtime a disservice by following up the near perfect mise-en-scène and mastery of color that characterize the opening forty-five minutes with the merely consistently delightful scenes at the apartments and the nightclub. It's all worth watching, but that sense of slow deflation as the film rolls amiably toward a shrug of an ending makes the film's lackluster response from contemporaneous audiences easier to understand.

Interesting, I feel the opposite: the film's a slog I admire at arm's length until the centerpiece of the slow disruption of the restaurant in the final half. This is still a movie and a director I wish I liked more than I actually do, though

swo17 wrote: Fri Nov 18, 2022 3:38 pm

swo17 wrote: Sat Oct 01, 2022 3:55 pm VOTE HERE UNTIL NOV 20

Reminder that voting ends Sunday

This was a wonderfully easy voting process, kudos to the team on putting this ballot system together!

domino harvey wrote: Sat Nov 19, 2022 6:03 pm

DarkImbecile wrote: Sat Nov 19, 2022 6:58 am
Playtime (Tati) — While the whole film has visual wit to spare — I think I laughed at pure shot composition more often in watching this than any other single film I've ever seen — Tati's structural choices do Playtime a disservice by following up the near perfect mise-en-scène and mastery of color that characterize the opening forty-five minutes with the merely consistently delightful scenes at the apartments and the nightclub. It's all worth watching, but that sense of slow deflation as the film rolls amiably toward a shrug of an ending makes the film's lackluster response from contemporaneous audiences easier to understand.

Interesting, I feel the opposite: the film's a slog I admire at arm's length until the centerpiece of the slow disruption of the restaurant in the final half. This is still a movie and a director I wish I liked more than I actually do, though

And I think the scene looking into the apartments is the film's peak bit! To each their own, but I also think Monsieur Hulot's Holiday is handily his best work :-"

domino harvey wrote: Sat Nov 19, 2022 6:09 pm This was a wonderfully easy voting process, kudos to the team on putting this ballot system together!

Totally agreed!

I love the entirety of Playtime but I think my first time was very much disrupted by how different a film it is than what I expected. (Of Tati's works I'd previously only seen Jour de Fete at the time.) And in fairness, I don't think you can describe it very accurately to someone who hasn't seen it. After reading about Tati my whole life I expected laff-a-minute fun and that's obviously not what happens. But I get so much joy out of his films, especially this one.

My favorite discovery this round by a longshot was David Holzman's Diary; I saw it about a week ago and have yet to get it out of my head. It's obviously prophetic of a certain kind of media / communication style but also effectively predicts how good those platforms would be at amplifying toxic, self-indulgent behavior. It even works as a kind of companion to The Graduate in the way it carries a man-child caricature all the way to its inevitable, sad conclusion.

The biggest surprise was Mouchette. This is the first Bresson film I've seen that I more than mildly liked, and I think it's because it's so different from the rest despite the downbeat conclusion it shares with several others. The title character's world felt so complete to me and she didn't strike me as the same kind of empty vessel that to me personally is so off-putting in much of the director's early work. (I know that's the point, it just isn't something that works very well for me most of the time.)

Spoiler

I don't go in for Bresson's treatment of death in Balthazar and Country Priest because I just don't find that line of thought -- grace comes with suffering, etc. -- very philosophically interesting even though I know it comes within a very well-worn tradition as old as time itself. But I enjoy the sense I get that Mouchette's death, in some ways, feels like an act of rebellion. And maybe that's a shallow (sorry) reading, I'm honestly just trying to understand why I so disliked most of Bresson's films (apart from A Man Escaped, though even that felt a little perfunctory to me) and loved this one.

I think that's an interesting reading of Mouchette, though I don't think Diary of a Country Priest's line of thought is so explicitly causal, or even operating as a line of "thought" at all! If anything, it's holding space for the possibility of locating grace amidst suffering, and demonstrating the challenge of that uphill battle against the grain of one's depressive symptoms, health problems, social alienation, etc. Sure, it's integral to experience some burden to achieve spiritual rewards, but everyone has some degree of that- and counter examples to this claim exist in the suffering girl who acts as a definition of 'hurt people hurt people' mocking the priest, unready to open up to spiritual gains yet, while helpful clergy elsewhere counseling the priest aren't suffering to any agonizing or apparent degree, but are also clearly living spiritual lives divorced from bludgeoning pain. The 'Let go and let God' attitude doesn't discriminate against only the sufferers, and I don't think the film is detailing an inverse relationship of reciprocity between x amount of suffering equating y grace

this wasn't the best month for me, as I concurrently was starting a new job and my watchlist was pretty weak - I'd already taken on most of the 'big hitters' this year in the initial 60s project (and I'll admit - I'm not a fan of most, even The Red and the White is my least favorite Jancso so far!), and my discoveries were very, very thin. I also enjoyed David Holzman's Diary a lot, but moreso as a time-and-place document than anything else. the shot moving down the bench is incredible, incredible stuff.

A Colt is My Passport was my favorite 'discovery' though - absolutely loved its wild entertainment. it's not a very in depth movie or anything but as someone who prefers Tokyo Drifter greatly to Branded to Kill I felt very at home with it - though it obviously has a lot of kinship to the latter. I enjoy the whole 'deconstruction of genre' type of films ala Tokyo Drifter, Blast of Silence, and even Kiss Me Deadly and I think this was a great Japanese answer to it. the

Spoiler

spaghetti western

angle was unexpected, hilarious, and fitting. gonna now have to go back through the Nikkatsu Noir box even though I basically read this was the crown jewel of it

speaking of Eclipse series, I was hoping Love Affair would live up to the hype after I enjoyed Man is Not a Bird. since I'm super squeamish, let's just say I didn't make it more than 15 minutes in...which was a huge letdown

A Colt is My Passport's comfort food qualities make it a go-to for respite. It's the best film in that box and an easy list-maker, though I'd also find it impossible to leave it off considering it has one of the greatest movie titles ever

therewillbeblus wrote: Mon Nov 21, 2022 5:02 am A Colt is My Passport's comfort food qualities make it a go-to for respite. It's the best film in that box and an easy list-maker, though I'd also find it impossible to leave it off considering it has one of the greatest movie titles ever

I agree completely, even going in I felt it had to be a winner based on that alone. rarely is this ever wrong (Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors is another couldn't fail title, and I'm sure Profound Desires of the Gods will be for 68) but the movie lived up to it entirely. kinda made me wish Suzuki had gone all out with his naming too, but it's so fascinating as a companion piece to his works (which obviously are better known/accessible to all of us). it's really an easy recommendation to almost anyone I think

Submitted. Great job with the form @swo17.

The 1967 List



##. Film (Director) points/votes(top 5 placements, aka likely votes in decade list)/highest ranking

01. Marketa Lazarová (František Vláčil) 291/14(9)/1(x2)
02. PlayTime (Jacques Tati) 263/14(6)/1
03. Week-End (Jean-Luc Godard) 232/11(8)/1(x2)
04. The Graduate (Mike Nichols) 220/12(6)/1(x3)
05. Les Demoiselles de Rochefort [The Young Girls of Rochefort] (Jacques Demy) 215/10(7)/1(x2)
(tie) Belle de jour (Luis Buñuel) 215/13(3)/2
07. Csillagosok, katonák [The Red and the White] (Miklós Jancsó) 210/11(5)/2(x3)
08. Le Samouraï (Jean-Pierre Melville) 209/12(5)/1(x3)
09. Hoří, má panenko [The Firemen's Ball] (Miloš Forman) 204/13(2)/2
10. Mouchette (Robert Bresson) 202/11(4)/1
11. La Collectionneuse (Éric Rohmer) 174/10(6)/1
(tie) 2 ou 3 choses que je sais d'elle [Two or Three Things I Know About Her] (Jean-Luc Godard) 174/11(3)/1
13. Bonnie and Clyde (Arthur Penn) 171/10(4)/4(x2)
14. Point Blank (John Boorman) 147/8(1)/1
15. La Chinoise (Jean-Luc Godard) 126/9(3)/1
16. 乱れ雲 [Midaregumo] [Scattered Clouds] (Mikio Naruse) 124/8(1)/3
17. La cotta [The Crush] (Ermanno Olmi) 113/6(1)/2
18. Dont Look Back (D.A. Pennebaker) 101/8(1)/3
(tie) 龍門客棧 [Long men ke zhan] [Dragon Inn] (King Hu) 101/6/6
20. Accident (Joseph Losey) 100/5(3)/1
21. El Dorado (Howard Hawks) 61/5(1)/2
(tie) In the Heat of the Night (Norman Jewison) 61/5(1)/4
23. 上意討ち 拝領妻始末 [Jōi-uchi: Hairyō tsuma shimatsu] [Samurai Rebellion] (Masaki Kobayashi) 57/3(1)/4
24. Edipo re [Oedipus Rex] (Pier Paolo Pasolini) 56/3(1)/4
(tie) The Dirty Dozen (Robert Aldrich) 56/3(1)/5
26. David Holzman's Diary (Jim McBride) 54/3(2)/4
(tie) Cool Hand Luke (Stuart Rosenberg) 54/4(1)/5
28. Frankenstein Created Woman (Terence Fisher) 53/3(1)/3
29. Elvira Madigan (Bo Widerberg) 50/3(1)/4
(tie) Portrait of Jason (Shirley Clarke) 50/4/6
31. La Cina è vicina [China Is Near] (Marco Bellocchio) 47/2(2)/2
(tie) 拳銃は俺のパスポート [Koruto wa ore no pasupōto] [A Colt Is My Passport] (Takashi Nomura) 47/3(2)/3
33. Two for the Road (Stanley Donen) 46/4/11
34. Barefoot in the Park (Gene Saks) 44/4/7
35. Titicut Follies (Frederick Wiseman) 42/3/6
(tie) In Cold Blood (Richard Brooks) 42/3/8
(tie) Dance of the Vampires [The Fearless Vampire Killers] (Roman Polanski) 42/3/8
38. 炎と女 [Honō to onna] [Flame and Women] [Impasse] (Kijū Yoshida) 41/2(1)/4
(tie) Peppermint frappé (Carlos Saura) 41/3/8
40. 人間蒸発 [Ningen jōhatsu] [A Man Vanishes] (Shōhei Imamura) 40/3/9(x2)
(tie) 殺しの烙印 [Koroshi no rakuin] [Branded to Kill] (Seijun Suzuki) 40/4/11
42. Zmluva s diablom [A Pact with the Devil] (Jozef Zachar) 37/3/10
43. Far from the Madding Crowd (John Schlesinger) 33/4/12
44. The Incident (Larry Peerce) 31/2/6
45. Hombre (Martin Ritt) 29/2/9
(tie) Up the Down Staircase (Robert Mulligan) 29/3/7
47. Wait Until Dark (Terence Young) 27/3/14
48. Вий [Viy] (Konstantin Yershov & Georgi Kropachyov) 26/2(1)/3
(tie) Cineblatz (Jeff Keen) 26/2/13(x2)
50. Короткие встречи [Korotkiye vstrechi] [Brief Encounters] (Kira Muratova) 25/2/9

ALSO-RANS

Quatermass and the Pit (Roy Ward Baker) 21/2/13
情炎 [Jōen] [The Affair] (Kijū Yoshida) 20/2/8
Ljubavni slučaj ili tragedija službenice P.T.T. [Love Affair, or the Case of the Missing Switchboard Operator] (Dušan Makavejev) 18/2/14
L'immorale [The Climax] (Pietro Germi) 17/2/10
Our Mother's House (Jack Clayton) 16/2/12
Poor Cow (Ken Loach) 16/2/15
The St. Valentine's Day Massacre! (Roger Corman) 7/2/21

ORPHANS

Film (Director) highest ranking

Trans-Europ-Express (Alain Robbe-Grillet) 14
Cruces sobre el yermo [Crosses Over the Wasteland] (Alberto Mariscal) 19
Don't Make Waves (Alexander Mackendrick) 5
Warrendale (Allan King) 8
The Nude Restaurant (Andy Warhol) 13
En la selva no hay estrellas [No Stars in the Jungle] (Armando Robles Godoy) 21
Mali vojnici [Playing Soldiers] (Bahrudin Čengić) 25
You're in Love, Charlie Brown (Bill Melendez) 11
Looking for Mushrooms (Bruce Conner) 9
The Whisperers (Bryan Forbes) 25
The War Wagon (Burt Kennedy) 14
獨臂刀 [Du bei dao] [One-Armed Swordsman] (Chang Cheh) 9
How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying (David Swift) 20
Herostratus (Don Levy) 25
The Point of Noon (Don Levy) 19
Torture Garden (Freddie Francis) 14
Les Amours de la pieuvre [The Love Life of the Octopus] (Jean Painlevé & Geneviève Hamon) 11
L'Inconnu de Shandigor [The Unknown Man of Shandigor] (Jean-Louis Roy) 22
Ręce do góry [Hands Up!] (Jerzy Skolimowski) 14
Urbanissimo (John & Faith Hubley) 10
The Mummy's Shroud (John Gilling) 12
Magical Mystery Tour (John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison & Ringo Starr [The Beatles]) 24
Travel Songs (1967-1981) (Jonas Mekas) 16
La piel quemada (Josep Maria Forn) 23
Spring Night Summer Night (Joseph L. Anderson) 13
日本のいちばん長い日 [Nihon no ichiban nagaihi] [Japan's Longest Day] (Kihachi Okamoto) 4
Родина электричества [Rodina elektrichestva] [The Homeland of Electricity] (Larisa Shepitko) 16
You Only Live Twice (Lewis Gilbert) 15
Les Contrebandières [The Smugglers] (Luc Moullet) 18
英雄本色 [Ying xiong ben se] [The Story of a Discharged Prisoner] (Lung Kong) 18
Little Dog for Roger (Malcolm Le Grice) 2
Who's That Knocking at My Door (Martin Scorsese) 20
昭和残侠伝 血染の唐獅子 [Shōwa zankyō-den: Chizome no karajishi] [Blood-Stained Tattoo] (Masahiro Makino) 24
La Permission [The Story of a Three Day Pass] (Melvin Van Peebles) 12
日本春歌考 [Nihon shunka-kō] [Sing a Song of Sex] (Nagisa Ōshima) 7
無理心中日本の夏 [Muri shinjū: Nihon no natsu] [Japanese Summer: Double Suicide] (Nagisa Ōshima) 6
Οι Σφαίρες δεν Γυρίζουν Πίσω [Oi sfaires den gyrizoun piso] [Bullets Don't Come Back] (Nikos Foskolos) 4
Šťastný konec [Happy End] (Oldřich Lipský) 15
Romance pro křídlovku [Romance for Bugle] (Otakar Vávra) 6
7362 (Pat O'Neill) 3
Largo viaje [A Long Journey] (Patricio Kaulen) 7
Marat/Sade (Peter Brook) 17
Privilege (Peter Watkins) 22
Deadlier Than the Male (Ralph Thomas) 20
Les Aventuriers [The Last Adventure] (Robert Enrico) 8
Vízkereszt [Twelfth Night] (Sándor Sára) 12
Jag är nyfiken [ I Am Curious] (Vilgot Sjöman) 19
The Jungle Book (Wolfgang Reitherman) 9
妻二人 [Tsuma futari] [Two Wives] (Yasuzō Masumura) 25
Незабываемое [Nezabyvaemoe] [The Unforgettable] (Yuliya Solntseva) 1

20 lists submitted

Thanks again, swo and skilar!

Yes, thank you swo and skilar! And congrats to the board for leaving me with no also rans and only two orphans (Torture Garden and Deadlier Than the Male)

Ah, Torture Garden was on my watchlist and I didn’t quite get to it; I’ll try it out before the decade list closes