The list is out. Yes, that one--the list.
I recounted my own history with Sight & Sound’s once-a-decade survey of the greatest films ever
made when the 2002 list came out. (In a weird way, one of my favourite things I’ve ever partici-
pated in; the whole thing was set up by Scott Woods, and I didn’t know until the very last e-mail
exchange that the guy I’d been sparring with, Andrew LaPointe, was 17. Still makes me laugh.) As
indicated by the title of our exchange, 2002’s list represented something of a holding pattern.
This year’s, less so--because the thing that many people thought might come to pass actually did,
the 2012 list will make some news.
I’m basically indifferent to Vertigo’s ascension to #1. Given the choice between the two leading
contenders, I’d much rather Citizen Kane had held down the top spot once again--for one thing,
I’d still be able to announce to my students with a great dramatic flourish Kane’s half-century
domination of the poll when I talk about Welles on his birthday next year--but seeing as I’ve
made up many favourite-film lists of varying lengths over the years and not once put Kane on any
of them, it’d be silly to get indignant. I’ve come to think of Vertigo as the On the Beach (Neil
Young version) of the film canon; I’m convinced its stature owes at least something to the fact
that it was long out of circulation, but I can also appreciate why its particular mood connects
with people so deeply, even if I don’t share that connection myself.
The Godfather(s), which last time looked like they might make a bid for #1, are out (say the
beginning and end of that sentence in your best Michael Corleone voice). Mostly that’s due to an
accounting decision: last time, votes for the first two were added together, this time I and II
were counted as separate films. If they’d stayed with their initial decision, the combined vote
total for the two would have grazed the lower reaches of the Top 10, down from #4 in 2002. I
started out very much in favour of treating the first two as a single film (which is how they
come together in my own head), but now I’m closer to being on the fence. I can easily explain
why I think it makes much more sense to combine votes for the first two Godfathers than for
Kieślowski’s Three Colors Trilogy. I’d have a much tougher time trying to rationalize why it
makes any more sense than to combine votes for all three Apu films, something I wouldn’t agree
with.
So what makes me happy about this year’s results? I like that most--most, not all--of the hal-
lowed names going back to when I was a film student 30 years ago still find their way into the
Top 50 with at least one film. I’m like John McGiver in Breakfast at Tiffany’s: even though
there are films on there I don’t personally get much out of (8-1/2 is always the first example
I point to), it gives one a feeling of solidarity, almost of continuity with the past, that sort
of thing. I like that The 400 Blows, which has become one of my favourite films the past few
years, still does pretty well (33 votes, good for 39th), and that Persona is still hanging on.
Taxi Driver tied for 31st (with Godfather II, coincidentally)--if I had to settle on one of the
core Scorsese films to push ahead of the others, that’d be the one. And I like seeing films like
Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce 1080 Bruxelles, Histoire(s) du cinema, and Andrei Rublev on
there--strange films I would have once brushed aside with jokes and exasperation, but that now
interest me a great deal. I still have a few more of those to catch up with. (Stalker, at #29,
still inspires jokes and exasperation.)
My biggest disappointment would be the absence of Nashville in the Top 50. Altman’s the kind of
director who splits votes among a few films, and my guess is that, in total, he exceeded the 29
votes necessary to finish 50th. But I’m surprised that Nashville still hasn’t emerged as the
consensus choice, and surprised that Altman’s death, as death sometimes seems to, didn’t give it
a little extra push. And, in keeping with my great interest in documentaries the past few years
(on the wane somewhat), I guess I would have liked to have seen one or two of my favourites
show up somewhere towards the bottom of the Top 50...well, that just wasn’t going to happen;
thinking about the ones that mean the most to me, I’d be surprised if any of them got a single
vote.
I may have some more to say when individual lists are printed (not until the print issue in
September, it appears). I’ve refrained thus far from saying anything about Mulholland Dr. at
#28. Let’s keep it that way.
Here's an ILX thread devoted to the poll, and also another. Elsewhere (not sure how long these
links will remain valid): Scott Tobias, Ebert, David Edelstein, Jonathan Rosenbaum, Dana Stevens,
Armond White, Richard Brody, James Wolcott, Peter Bogdanovich, Owen Gleiberman, Steven Rubio.