Daily Archives: June 3, 2017

Californias signature scent of marijuana permeates the warm air in San Franciscos Buena Vista Park. Dogs pant and people strip off. The arrival of an early summer has caught the Haight-Ashbury neighbourhood off guard. It is a distinctive, blissed-out atmosphere but still an age away from the drug-fuelled, music-drenched summer of 1967, when 100,000 people converged on the Haight.

Back then, people came to embrace a higher consciousness and obey the Turn on, tune in, drop out message that Timothy Leary had delivered earlier that year to 30,000 people in Golden Gate Park at the Gathering of the Tribes for a Human Be-In.

The area quickly became a test-ground for 1960s counterculture, with the political activists from Berkeley joining the bohemians of Haight-Ashbury.

Comparisons and reflections are expected this year, though, as San Francisco is busy looking backwards, marking the 50th anniversary of the Summer of Love, remembering and debating its legacy. The summer of 1967 was an optimistic, heady time, following on from the beat generations championing of sexual liberation and freedom, and the Trips festival in San Francisco the year before, when 10,000 people watched the Grateful Dead perform, many of them high on LSD having heeded the festival flyers words: The audience participates because its more fun to do so than not.

This was a short-lived, peak moment of trippy rock posters and social activism, cut short by an influx of violent heroin dealers into the Haight, subsequent overdoses and, eventually, tourist buses arriving to gawk at the hippies. Come autumn 1967, many of the flower children had decamped to rural communes and the original pioneers and visionaries were gone.

Today, Haight-Ashbury is still a living if touristy flashback to that seminal summer, a district of nonconformists, tie-dye stores and emporiums with names like Little Wing (after the Jimi Hendrix song) selling fringed waistcoats, anarchist handbooks and bongs. Distractions boutique declares it has been keeping Haight-Ashbury strange since 1976, while other stores mirror the style of the 60s. Theres Rasputin Records, with a psychedelic sign depicting the Russian mystic in the lotus position; the Blue Front Caf, advertising itself with a fantastic giant muscle-bound blue genie; and Hippie Thai, with its campervan logo and macrobiotic Thai street food. A huge mural above a fast-food cafe called Burger Urge illustrates the Summer of Love with Hendrix playing the guitar and Janis Joplin howling into a microphone. Buskers play harmonicas and Hare Krishna folk in orange robes tour the streets. You either love it or hate it.

From the open doors of Love on Haight, a shop on the corner of Masonic and Haight, Jerry Garcias weathered voice eases out the shop stereo only ever plays the music of former residents the Grateful Dead. Multi-coloured fractals and tie-dye designs cover not only the walls and ceiling but also the staff. Proprietor Sunshine Powers, self-proclaimed Queen of Haight Street, is a well-known local figure and her youthful mop of curly red hair makes her easy to spot amongst the psychedelic pile-up. Despite not being part of the original movement (Powers was born in 1980), she is a keen modern-day promoter of the 1960s message of peace, community and love.

What people forget is that all that hippy stuff sex and drugs and music was just frosting on the cake, says Powers, her signature green glitter facepaint sparkling. Social justice, community and healthcare, thats what really mattered. That was the main drive. This 50th anniversary also gives us the chance to show the original pioneers that were carrying on their causes. After all, they may not be around in 10 or 20 years time.

Its easy to dismiss the peace and love message as corny and pass, but Powers is convincing when she speaks of valuing people over things, and her beliefs are proven later when I learn of her considerable financial support of Taking it to the Streets, a charity helping vulnerable homeless youths, of whom there are many. (This is depressing given the torrent of wealth pouring into the city from nearby Silicon Valley. If the Summer of Love set out to end stark inequality in its own community, it appears to have failed, despite the efforts of people like Powers.)

Back outside, I step over paving slabs painted with large red love hearts, towards family-owned Guss Community Market. Its motto of local produce, local farmers, locally here for you lured me inside, as did the smell of sweet Californian berries mixing with the soft aroma of baked grains. Every conceivable wholefood is packed into every available space. The label on a bottle of organic kombucha, a fermented tea, claims, cringingly, that its number one ingredient is love and that it hails from a batch small enough to hug. Psychedelic posters advertising street-fairs from the past decorate the walls, acting as reminders that common ecological awareness and vegetarian lifestyles have been central to this part of California since the 60s. Organic food and Middle Eastern food, so popular worldwide today, was sold at the Monterey music festival of 1967, where Hendrix, Jefferson Airplane, the Grateful Dead and the Mamas & the Papas all played.

Outside, posters advertise one of the biggest shows of the year: the De Young Museums Summer of Love exhibition (until August 20). I head there next.

De Young is a giant copper-clad museum in the open green spaces of three-mile-long Golden Gate Park, where goldfinches and turquoise jays flit between palm and eucalyptus trees. It is a cool, calming space.

In the garden, signs for the Summer of Love exhibition draw links and contrasts between 1967 and 2017. One reads hippie 1967, hipster 2017, seemingly ignoring the fact that hipsters emerged as a subculture in the 1940s. Another reads free clinic 1967, affordable care 2017, reminding us of the non-judgmental clinic set up in the Haight in 1967, complete with a bad trip room.

Inside, the roar of Jefferson Airplane introduces the exhibition. In one room, Ben Van Meters double- and triple-exposed images from the Trips festival are described as a documentary ... from the point of view of a goldfish in the Kool-Aid bowl. Fashion-focused rooms show the journey from uptight girdles and garter belts to loose, free-flowing maxi dresses and flared trousers. The first bell-bottom jeans, made in San Francisco at the Levis factory then on Valencia Street, are displayed. Flared, or boot-cut jeans, we are told, were originally made to fit over cowboy boots.

Today, the Levis store on Market Street, the main downtown shopping drag , has a rack of Summer of Love clothes inspired by the companys archive, including a two-tone suede jacket at $1,200. Its easy for corporations to jump on the Summer of Love theme, seemingly ignoring key messages about simple living, inclusion and community. In April, the San Franciso branch of department store Neiman Marcus held a pop-up called The Love Boutique, featuring vintage pieces from the 60s alongside new Balmain, Chloe and Alexander McQueen garments that cost thousands of dollars.

One of the best items in the exhibition, however, is one of the smallest. Made of goatskin and decorated with silk chain-stitch embroidery by Haight-Ashbury couturier Linda Gravenites, it is Janis Joplins exquisite handbag from 1967. Suspended in a glass case, it looks like new, its red beads still shining. Joplin told Vogue magazine in 1968 that Gravenites turns them out slowly and turns them out well and only turns them out for those she likes.

Later, I meet Greg Castillo, a counterculture expert and associate professor of architecture at Berkeley. He says some of the legacies of 1967 are more subtle and less dramatic than sex, drugs and rocknroll. The recycling logo, today one of the most recognisable in the world, is a direct product of that era. It was designed in 1970, its spinning, revolving graphic based on the mandala a symbol for the cosmos borrowed from eastern cultures. Its designer, Gary Anderson, has said that the spirit of the 1960s directly influenced his design.

Later, as a sunset turns the Californian sky bubblegum pink, I walk through Chinatown, making a literary pilgrimage to the landmark City Lights bookshop and publishing house. Open until midnight daily, Americas first all-paperback bookstore has been riding the counterculture wave since it was founded in 1953 by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, a veteran of the Bay area now 98 years old. It still publishes books on social and political issues, as well as the poetry it is best known for, much of which influenced the local 60s zeitgeist. Ferlinghetti famously published Allen Ginsbergs controversial 1955 poem Howl. A poster on the wall today announces that printers ink is the greatest explosive, while another reminds us that democracy is not a spectator sport. City Lights, with its wall of zines, still holds regular radical events and has held on to its anarchic charm.

Back at my hotel, the Zeppelin, in the theatre district, a couple of blocks from the alarmingly drug-addled streets of the Tenderloin and the department stores of Union Square, there is also an air of 67. The Doors Light my Fire released in May of that year is playing in the lobby and on the wall a giant mural of a doe-eyed girl with flowers in her hair overlooks the chill-out area. The staff are disarmingly friendly, too, and a general air of liberalism dominates.

The spirit of the Summer of Love does appear to linger in this city. Despite the vast and obvious inequalities which some say are steadily worsening San Francisco feels like a flexible and creative city, somewhere that is still capable of opening minds.

The trip was provided by American Sky (01342 886721. americansky.co.uk), which offers five nights at the Hotel Zeppelin from 999pp, including flights from Gatwick with American Airlines and room-only accommodation.

For Summer of Love events, see sftravel.com/summer-love-2017

More here:

San Francisco, 50 years on from the Summer of Love - The Guardian

While the passing decades have distilled critical opinion to a fairly reliable Required Viewing roster for films of the prolific 1950s, the era remains more difficult to pin down than the1930s or 40s, largely due to an explosive diversity in both subject matter and cinematic technology. We still see the profound influence of WWII, we still see film noir and Westerns and the development of European neorealism. We also see the proliferation of color technology. The affluence that grew in the post-war years and the rise of leisure culture play a role in the zeitgeist of this decade. There is also an emphasis on teen culture, perhaps best represented by the brief but meteoric career of James Dean. Television became mainstream, and Hollywood found itself with some stiff competition from the networks. Cold War paranoia and anti-Communist sentiment joined with a profusion of new technologies to fuel American filmscience fiction and outer space films, in particular. It was the decade of Alfred Hitchcockand Ingmar Bergman, and in Asia, Akira Kurosawa and Satayajit Ray were both producing some of their finest work. The French New Wave was in full flow, with directors such as Jean-Luc Godard and Francois Truffaut defining what would come to be known as auteur theory. Psychological thrillers, Shakespeare adaptations, goofy musicals, and the cast of millions epic style canonized by Cecil B. deMille are all very much in evidence. Film took off in a million directions during the 1950s, and it is truly up for debate what constitutes the best of this prolific and diverse decade. So weve tried to keep an eye on the films that defined something about the era, and while anyone might squabble over one being more artistically important than another (rightly so, in some cases), weve pulled together a list of films that all tick the if you want to consider yourself a culturally literate cinephile, you need to see this box for one reason or another.

100. The Tingler (1944)

For William Castle, going to the movies was a matter of life and death. Or at least he wanted to convince you as much: If he didnt have you believing you had some serious stakes in what was happening onscreen, then hethe 20th centurys consummate cinematic showmanwasnt doing his job. So begins The Tingler, Castles 1959 creature feature, wherein Castle appears on screen like a B-grade Alfred Hitchcockto remind the audience that what theyre about to see is hardly a lark. Fear is a natural but serious affliction, a building up of poisonous humors within ones nervous system, and so it must be addressed should you endure the film hes about to show you. The only way to live through The Tingler? Youre going to have to scream. And, to prove his medical conclusions, Castle introduces us to Dr. Chapin (Vincent Price at the height of his weirdo sophisticate phase), a man who believes that every human being has a parasite living in their spine that feeds off of extreme fearthats the tingling sensation you get every time youre panicked. The parasite will grow and decimate a persons backbone unless its defeated/deflated by the only logical reaction to fear: screaming. Things of course get tinglier once Chapin captures an actual rubbery spine centipedeand, meanwhile, Castle was always ready to exploit his audiences squirm factor, having Percepto! contraptions installed into each theater seat, set to buzz the butts of already agitated film-goers to scare them into thinking the insectoid creature was crawling between their legs. Among Castles many interactive gimmick films in the 1950s, The Tingler might be the Castle-est, a sincerely wacky, unsettling, imaginative experience whether youre equipped with a vibrating chair or not. And hearing Vincent Price hollering into the void of a pitch-black screen, Scream! Scream for your lives! The Tingler is loose in the theater!, offers enough urgency to convince you something may be nipping at your backside after all. Dom Sinacola

99. The Ten Commandments (1956)

There are a lot of major motion pictures from the 50s that remain eminently relevant and even bizarrely au courant. The Ten Commandments isnt one of them, But even though it feels dated, from the standpoint of cultural literacy it remains a must-see. Luckily, it hits the airwaves every year around Easter/Passover, and has done since 1973, so its easy to catch. Cecil B. DeMilles remake of his own 1923 treatment of the same story is the dictionary definition of epic with its sweeping, massive set, mind-boggling cast, and overall Big Damn Production. Its overblown, even a little ludicrous, but at the same time, this story of Moses liberation of the Hebrews from Egypt has a certain magnificence that only DeMille could have given it. Its incredibly extravagant and runs four hours, so prepare to arrange some intermissions if you must. You might giggle at some quaint or dated or kind of pompous moments but you wont be bored. It takes a big story, gives it a cast of stars (Charlton Heston, Yul Brynner, Edward G. Robinson, Vincent Price, Anne Baxter and Debra Padgett for starters), and gives it an opulent, sprawling, color-saturated, mind-blowingly excessive field on which to play that story out. Its eye-popping and a genuine spectacle. Amy Glynn

98. Lola Montes (1955)

Way back in the early 2000s, the films of German-born, Paris-based director Max Ophuls languished out of print. His fin de sicle Europe, aristocratic mores, women on the verge of nervous breakdowns and loooooong tracking shots fell out of sight. But with the availability of the fever dream of his financially and critically catastrophic last feature, Lola Monts, our portrait of the artist in his final years is complete. Eliza Rosanna Gilberta dancer and actress most often called by her stage name, Lola Montspioneered the cult of celebrity. Paramour to composers Franz Liszt, Frederic Chopin and Richard Wagner, not to mention numerous dukes, counts and even King Ludwig I of Bavaria, her affairs were fodder for the papers, and sometimes cause for riots. Ophuls anticipates such modern media circuses, eschewing simple biography for his heroine and setting her in a context more grandiose and garish: a real circus. Andy Beta

97. Kanal (1957)

Watch them closely, for these are the last hours of their lives. The voiceover that opens Kanal, which simultaneously introduces us to a depleted company of the failed Warsaw uprising and foretells of its imminent grisly fate, powers Andrzej Wajdas resistance movie with a morbid fascination. Aware of their slim chances of survival with the German army tightening its grip all the time, the remaining men and women of Lt. Zadras Home Army unit escape to the sewers, not because they think that offers much chance of survival, but because their instincts keep driving them to live, even if just for a few moments more. But the confusion and strange terror down there, in the foul winding tunnels of an underground maze of waste, make them a pitiful few last hours. All sense of time and geography is lost: its just mysterious bodies, wading in perpetual night through a river of shit. Sandwiched between A Generation and Ashes and Diamonds, as the least complicated and political of Wajdas war trilogy, Kanal is as pure a portrayal of human desperation as one might find in the cinema. Brogan Morris

96. Les Enfants Terribles (1952)

Jean Cocteau adapted this screenplay from his own novel and Pierre Melville directed. A tale of mind games and manipulations, it features Cocteaus dreamlike, poetic sensibility and Melvilles lucid, deft direction. Edouard Dermit plays Paul, a sensitive young man whos a bit obsessed with a girl named Agathe (Renee Cosima), to the consternation of Pauls sister Elisabeth, who has a rather inappropriate fascination with her brother. Cosima also plays (in drag) school bully Dargelos, who sees to it Elisabeth gets her karmic just desserts after jealousy leads her to thwart the romance between her brother and Agathe. Its fantastical in tone, with Cocteaus typical poetry-infused visual sensibility. He also provides the narration, which some critics have found to be a bit over the topin any event the overall impression is that while Melville might have directed it, this is really Cocteaus film. Its strange and dreamy and full of adolescent angst. Probably not the finest work of either Melville or Cocteau, Les Enfants Terribles remains an intriguing collaboration between two masters of mid-century French cinema. Amy Glynn

95. Blackboard Jungle (1955)

Richard Brooks glorified after-school special is fascinating for the film it couldve been: something truly subversive, an indictment of Americas post-war social systems and a loud screed against systemic racism. Instead, Blackboard Jungle is a movie divided, willing to confront some serious issues but unwilling to make much noise about it. Preluded by a title card warning that the film isnt about all public schools, but is rather a look at the rising tide of juvenile delinquency spreading into some public schools, the film from its very first moments shifts blame to the kids acting out, diluting deeper messages about the broken systems which failed, and continue to fail, these kids in the first place. After all, a young teacher (Glenn Ford) with an expecting wife believes that every kid deserves a shot at a good education, but after his wife ends up in the hospital due to some harassment care of a few hooligans unafraid to go too far, he must admit that some bad apples are just straight-up rotten. Sidney Poitier stars in one of his first films as an ally to the beleaguered teacher, and Ford is predictably committed to the melodrama, but the film shines in its subtler detailsthe use of Bill Haleys Rock Around the Clock to signal the dawn of a youthful revolution, or the majority of the schools teachers being WWII veterans returned to a country which doesnt seem to appreciate thempointing to a much thornier film in Blackboard Jungles marrow. Dom Sinacola

94. Ace in the Hole (1951)

Billy Wilders cynical streak is a mile wide in this story of muckraker journalist Chuck Tatum, who plots an amoral scheme to take advantage of a collapsed mine incident in the deserts of New Mexico. Starring Kirk Douglas in full snarling villain mode, its a film that looks squarely at the relationship between the press and public calamities that allow it to sell papers. If you have any preconceived notions about 50s movies being wholesome, Ace in the Hole will soon put those to bed. Christina Newland

93. Curse of Frankenstein (1957)

The presence of color, glorious color, is an overlooked moment in the evolution of horror cinema, but 1957s Curse of Frankenstein is one of its most important moments. After years of the classic Universal monsters being absent from the spotlight, Hammer Film Productions chose to bring the greatest of themFrankensteins Monsterback to life in a manner that fit the times and once again put the fear of God into audiences. And its the richness of the colorthe red of arterial blood, the vivid green of Dr. Frankensteins traveling cloak, the blue of a dark, shadowy laboratorythat helped create Hammers signature vibe, dripping with gothic opulence and grandeur. The roles here are also reversed: The monster this time around (Christopher Lee) is presented as dangerous but more or less thoughtless, an unfortunate automaton who is less than the sum of his stitched-together parts. The true monster is Dr. Frankenstein himself, masterfully played by an imperious Peter Cushing. His blithe disregard for ethics, his own life and the lives of his friends are an obvious influence on the caddish, antihero scientists who came after, such as Jeffrey Combs Herbert West in 1985s Re-Animator. Unlike Colin Clive in the 1931 Universal original, Cushing would never be mortified by the results of tampering in Gods domain. Each discovery only pushes him to go further, deeper into his own damnation. Jim Vorel

92. A Star is Born (1954)

Judy Garland proves her nuance and dramatic skill in this archetypal Hollywoodtale of rags-to-riches stardom. The story is practically written into the movie industrys DNAoriginally called What Price Hollywood?, the first version was made in 1932. Even with three iterations (and one more on the way, starring Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper), the 50s version is still likely the finest. Garland is Esther Blodgett, a homely small-town aspiring singer who is groomed and manicured into a perfect ingenue. But her enormous talent soon eclipses her beloved mentor, James Mason. Mason, a washed-up lush who is hopelessly in love with her. Almost Shakespearean in its tragedyand in its epic lengthA Star is Born is essential viewing. Christina Newland

91. Picnic (1956)

There are only two plots in all of storytelling. One is a hero sets out on a quest. This is the other one: A stranger comes to town. This film, adapted from William Inges Pulitzer-winning play of the same name, depicts 24 hours in the life of a sleepy Kansas town during which several peoples lives are turned upside down by the arrival of chaos in the form of Hal Carter (William Holden), a down-on-his-luck former football star whos passing through to connect with his old friend, Alan Benson (Cliff Robertson). He meets the Owens family (Kim Novak, Betty Field, Susan Strasburg) and their spinster-lodger Rosemary (Rosalind Russell) and sparks begin to fly. The movie is sweet and sad and angry and nostalgic and dreary all at once, and it put Kim Novak on the Hollywoodmapall good things. But the takeaway is that ultra-sexy can happen without anyone even touching. The dance scene between Holden and Novak, set to the gorgeous strains of Moonglow, is as steamy today as it was in 1955. Amy Glynn

90. Black Orpheus (1959)

The Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice has been the source of countless works of art over the centuries. Marcel Camus adaptation is set in a Rio de Janeiro favela and features a brilliant soundtrack by Tom Jobim and Luiz Bonfa. Brenno Melo plays Orfeu, a talented guitarist in a somewhat reluctant engagement to Mira (Lourdes de Olveira) who falls in love with Eurydice (Marpessa Dawn). Eurydice is taken from him by Death. Orfeu tries to get her back, fails, and is killed by the jilted Mira. Its an ancient story and Camus does a marvelous job of making it new and fresh in its recontextualization. The samba and bossa nova music are befitting of mythologys greatest singer-songwriter, and the production is stylish and colorful and full of heart. Visually lush and ebullient, this is a film to roll around in, not to be overly cerebral about. Lavishly sensuous, with stunning cinematography and a soundtrack to die for (and come back from Hades to hear all over again). Amy Glynn

89. The Browning Version (1951)

Anthony Asquith directed this adaptation of a stage play by killer British playwright Terence Rattigan, who also supplied the screenplay. Together they afforded Michael Redgrave what just might be his best performance ever. The story of a boarding school teacher whose life goes into freefall is one of the great-granddaddies of the Teacher Who Actually Schools You that has become one of the tropes that never gets old (Lookin at you, Stand and Deliver!). The great strengths here are absolutely the script and Redgraves performance-he does as spectacular job with what is actually a pretty dreary subject: Life falling apart. He breathes life into a potentially airless character and his performance is riveting. Amy Glynn

88. Night and Fog (1956)

Released 10 years after the liberation of prisoners from the Nazi concentration camps, Night and Fog was almost never made. Any number of reasons contributed to its tenuous birth: that noted documentary director Alain Resnais refused repeated attempts to helm the movie, insisting that a survivor of the camps be intimately involved, until screenwriter Jean Cayrol came on board, himself a survivor of the Mauthausen-Gusen camp; that Resnais and collaborators battled both French and German censors upon potential Cannesrelease; or that both Resnais and Cayrol themselves struggled with especially graphic footage, unsure of how to properly and comprehensively depict the unmitigated horror of what they were undertaking. Regardless, the film found release and is today, even at only 31 minutes, an eviscerating account of life in the camps: their origins, their architecture and their inner-workings.

Yet, most of all, Night and Fog is a paean to the power of art to shake history down to its foundational precedents. Look only to its final moments, in which, over images of the dead, emaciated and piled endlessly in mass graves, narrator Michel Bouquet simply asks to know who is responsible. Who did this? Who allowed this to happen? Which is so subtly subversiveespecially given the films quiet filming of Auschwitz and Majdanek, overgrown and abandoned, accompanied by lyrical musings and a strangely buoyant scorebecause rarely do documentariesdemand such answers. Rarely do documentaries ask such questions. Rarely is truth taken to task, bled of all subjectivity, and placed naked before the audience: Here is evil, undeniablywhat will you do about this? Dom Sinacola

87. East Of Eden (1955)

Elia Kazans adaptation of the Steinbeck novel of the same name might be most famous for being the film that launched the brief but meteoric career of James Dean. A cheery little Cain and Abel story set in the lettuce-farming country of Californias Salinas Valley, the film garnered intense critical acclaim for Kazans masterful use of CinemaScope technology to create a beautiful, moody mise en scene. Critical opinion was divided on Dean, whom some found pointlessly histrionic. Others have pronounced his fiery confrontations with his pious father (Raymond Massey) to be compelling and masterful. Whichever way you see it, theres strong consensus that this film created the persona of disaffected bad-boy Dean, whose iconic rebelliousness defined teenage rebellion and the generational divide that widened into the 1960s. Amy Glynn

86. Horror of Dracula (1958)

Horror of Dracula is either the second or third most iconic classic vampire film ever made, trailing only the 1931 Bela Lugosi Dracula and possibly the original Nosferatu. But really, if you were going to put together the ultimate, time-spanning Dracula film, youd choose this version of the vampire, as played by the regal, intimidating Christopher Lee at the height of his powers. Horror of Dracula is simply a gorgeous movie, with lush, gothic settingscrypts, foggy graveyards and stately manorsphotographed with the Golden Age charm of Technicolor. It has the best version of Van Helsing ever put to film (the aquiline, gaunt-looking Peter Cushing), some of the best sets and an omnipresent feeling of refinement and grandeur. Dracula, as played by Lee, is a creature of dualitiespreferring to use very few words and simply influence through his magnetic presence, but also just moments away from leaping into action with ferocious animality. Along with Curse of Frankenstein, its the film most responsible for the late 50s to early 70s revival of classic gothic horror via Hammer Film Productions in the UK, which would produce dozens of takes on Frankenstein, The Mummy, and no fewer than eight Dracula sequels. The first, however, is unquestionably the bestso effective that it typecast Christopher Lee as a horror icon for decades, exactly as Dracula did to Bela Lugosi. Jim Vorel

85. Father of the Bride (1950)

DNA tests have not been conclusive, but this Vicente Minelli comedy is possibly also the father of Nora Ephron and John Hughes. A nostalgia-bomb comedy about an anxious father (Spencer Tracy) coming to terms with the fact that his baby (Elizabeth Taylor) is not a baby anymore. The film might seem like a bit of a lightweight, but its worth noting it received Oscar nominations for Best Actor, Best Screenplay and Best Picture. Its a warmhearted and funny look at parent-child control struggle, anxiety, and confronting the need to let go, and a poignant picture of family life in the postwar United States. Its not necessarily an epiphanyjust a really well done classic comedy with great writing, great acting, and surefooted direction. Amy Glynn

84. Throne of Blood (1957)

In adapting Macbeth from Scotland to feudal Japan, Akira Kurosawa visually inflected his version with an evocatively chilly ambienceespecially with its preponderance of fog and that seemingly isolated castle in the mountainsthat gives William Shakespeares tragedy of ambition run amok the feel of a horror movie. He also brought elements of Noh theater into the mixseen in its ceremonial set designs, Masaru Satos use of flute and drum in his score, and especially in the deliberately affectless performance styles of Isuzu Yamada and Chieko Naniwathat has the effect of giving Throne of Blood a ritualized feel, a sense of haunting inevitability. In Kurosawas hands, one hardly needs Shakespeares own language to experience the horrifying poetry of Washizus (Toshiro Mifune) inexorable path toward his own personal doom, imprisoned not just by greed, but also by fear, guilt and heavens-defying egotism. Here is one of cinemas rare shining examples of a great director transforming a great play and making it indelibly his own. Kenji Fujishima

83. The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956)

Six words: James Stewart, James Stewart, James Stewart. Man, that guy was pitch perfect in pretty much everything, but put this jewel in the setting of a classic Hitchcock noir and you are in for a treat. Hitchcock made this film as a Technicolor reboot of his own 1934 treatment of the same story. Critical debate continues to percolate over which version is better. Hitch famously quipped Lets say the first version is the work of a talented amateur and the second was made by a professional. It took the Oscar for best song and left Doris Days rendition of Que Sera, Sera permanently imprinted on American cultural vernacular. Some might call this a laconically paced thriller, but Hitchcock took the time to make ample use of the wonderful settings afforded by shooting on location in Morocco, and elicits wonderful performances from the whole cast. For a Hitchcock movie this ones got a relatively high number of slow moments, but the last acts a masterful thrill-ride and the rest of the time, Hitchcocks beautiful compositional sense and the superb acting are more than enough to hold your interest. Amy Glynn

82. Godzilla (1951)

Its amazing, isnt it, how something so seemingly childish and flat-out dopey on paper could be as substantive, and as enduring, as Ishiro Hondas Godzilla? Hire a couple of actors and have them alternate donning an unwieldy rubber monster suit, and then let them stomp all over a miniature Tokyo set, smashing buildings with wild abandon, and presto: Just like that, youve made unexpected movie history. However silly Godzilla sounds when broken down into its component parts, it remains every bit as meaningful today as it did back in 1954, less than a decade after the U.S. of A. dropped nuclear ordnance on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, a colossal and nightmarish metaphor for the horrors of nuclear warfare. The King of the Monsters first major outing spawned legions of imitators and about as many sequels and spin-offs and rebootswere still making Godzilla movies, after all, and will continue to if Warner Bros. has anything to say about it but theres only one Godzilla movie that matters, Hondas, a film awash in the fears of a nation and ablaze with radioactive nihilism. Andy Crump

81. Othello (1951)

So, Orson Welleswas a supergenius. And studios just hated the guy. He was beset with financial tribulations and pull-outs and bait and switches and catfights every time he got behind a camera. He might be one of cinemas most enduring examples of creativity being generated by constraint, sometimes perhaps more than it is by unfettered freedom. Welles Othello is arguably mandatory viewing for anyone who wants to make a movie on a shoestring budget. It took four years (and three Desdemonas) to make this movie because he couldnt secure studio backing and would shott until he ran out of dough, then resume when hed scored a few acting gigs. It was ridiculous and a testament to Welles genius or the existence of miracles or both that the film isnt an epic disaster. On the contraryits fascinating. Many Shakespeare adaptations of this decade focused on extreme faithfulness to the original scriptsWelles cut Othello down to a zero-body-fat 92 minutes. The film uses fast, choppy cuts and intriguing angles to produce a quite Expressionist version of Shakespeares tragedy, and it doesnt look remotely accidental or like the product of a production that stopped and started repeatedly over an agonizing four years. Welles himself is a wonderful Othello, and Suzanne Cloutier as Desdemona matches his energy beautifully, but the real star here is the directorial moxie and quick-wittedness and sheer tenacity of vision that got the thing onscreen. Welles fought hard for this movie and the result is a beautiful and fascinating take on one of Shakespeares darkest plays. Amy Glynn

80. The Barefoot Contesssa (1954)

Long, long before Ina Garten was whipping up crabcakes on the Food Network, a nice young lady named Ava Gardner was emitting some serious BTUs as fictional Spanish sex symbol Maria Vargas. Down and out filmmaker discovers sizzling talent in Madrid nightclub, reignites his own career and starts hers, things happen, and Vargas ends up married to a count. There is much bling and sparkle and glam and a very unhappy ending. Joseph Mankiewiczs original screenplay earned him an Oscar nomination and the film is considered one of the quintessential Hollywood high-glamor Golden Age films, although in fact it was entirely produced in in Italy. Critical opinion on the film was rather cleft when it was released: Some admired its decadence while others considered it exemplary of everything wrong with Hollywood culture, crass and unsubtle. I see it as a great meditation on Show Biz cynicism. What most folks agreed on was that Gardner was the hottest thing on celluloid. Amy Glynn

79. Pather Panchali (1955)

Satyajit Rays Pather Panchali is, depending on who you ask, either the saddest movie ever made or one of the saddest, and if you dont believe the former then you likely believe the latter (unless you are made of stone, but aside from rock golems and Republicans, people tend to be made of flesh and blood). But whether the film makes you weep more or less is, perhaps, besides the point. When we talk about the classics of cinema, we talk about influence, and one note worth making about influence is that it comes in all shapes and sizes: Some movies have impact on a micro scale, others on a macro scale. Pather Panchalis influence may be best evinced on a micro scale, in specific relation to Indian cinema, presenting a watershed moment that sparked the Parallel Cinema movement and altered the texture of the countrys films forevermore.

This, again, isnt proof of Pather Panchalis actual substance, though lets be realistic here: Rays masterpiece doesnt need to prove anything to anyone. Its extraordinary on its authentic artistic merits, an aching, vital movie crafted to transmute the harshest rigors of a childhood lived in rural India into narrative. Maybe its presumptuous for an American critic with no frame of reference for Pather Panchalis cultural context to describe the film as true to life, but Ray is so good at capturing life with his camera that we come to know, to understand, the life of young Apu, regardless of who we are or where we come from, and isnt that just the absolute definition of cinemas transporting power? Andy Crump

78. Les Diaboliques (1955)

Watching Henri-Georges Clouzots Les Diaboliques through the lens of the modern horror film, especially the slasher flickreplete with un-killable villain (check); ever-looming jump scares (check); and a final girl of sorts (check?)one would not have to squint too hard to see a new genre coming into being. You could even make a case for Clouzots canonization in horror, but to take the film on only those terms would miss just how masterfully the iconic French director could wield tension. Nothing about Les Diaboliques dips into the scummy waters of cheap thrills: The tightly wound tale of two women, a fragile wife (Vra Clouzot) and severe mistress (Simone Signoret) to the same abusive man (Paul Meurisse), who conspire to kill him in order to both reel in the money rightfully owed the wife, and to rid the world of another asshole, Diaboliques may not end with a surprise outcome for those of us long inured to every modern thrillers perfunctory twist, but its still a heart-squeezing two hours, a murder mystery executed flawlessly. That Clouzot preceded this film with The Wages of Fear and Le Corbeau seems as surprising as the films outcome: By the time hed gotten to Les Diaboliques, the directors grasp over pulpy crime stories and hard-nosed drama had become pretty much his brand. That the film ends with a warning to audiences to not give away the ending for othersperhaps Clouzot also helped invent the spoiler alert?seems to make it clear that even the director knew he had something devilishly special on his hands. Dom Sinacola

77. The Quiet Man (1952)

Seen today, John Fords 1952 Ireland-set comedy/drama/romance plays as both squarely of its time and enchantingly outside of it. On the minus side, there are its thorny gender politics. Though the female love interest, Mary Kate Danaher (Maureen OHara), exhibits a feistiness and a desire for agency that could be seen as proto-feminist to modern eyes, shes ultimately put at the mercy of the hyper-masculine ex-boxer Sean Thornton (John Wayne), who is finally forced to tap into the violent side hes so desperate to escape in order to consummate their marriage. The fact that Sean is an Americanthough of Irish origin, having been born in Innisfree, the village he returns to in the filmand Mary Kate a lifelong Irishwoman gives their dynamic a faint imperialist air as well. And yet, Ford, more often than not, disarms criticism by sheer virtue of his lyrical sensibility, reserves of deep feeling, and humane attention to character detail. The Technicolor Ireland of The Quiet Man is clearly a lush dreamscape: an out-of-time haven of hearty romance and even heartier community. Not that its a paradise, necessarily, as Sean finds himself stymied to some degree by Irish traditions that go against his much-more-forthright American upbringing. But this is not the dark and brutal vision of Fords later 1956 masterpiece The Searchers, with an outlaw outsider finding himself perpetually unable to fit into any established order. Here, in the looser-limbed and lighter-hearted The Quiet Man, Sean and the Irish locals eventually find common ground, albeit through a perversely extended brawl that plays as a purifying male-bonding session. Kenji Fujishima

76. Witness for the Prosecution (1957)

A courtroom drama with noir leanings, based on a story by Agatha Christie and directed by the always-fascinating and sometimes really-damned-weird Billy Wilder? Yes, please. Tyrone Powers last role was as accused murderer Leonard Vole, defended by barrister Sir Wilfred Robarts (Charles Laughton). Hes believed to have done in a besotted, wealthy widow, Emily French (Norma Varden) whod been kind, or dotty, enough to make him the beneficiary in her will. Marlene Dietrich rounds things out as Voles wife, who both provides an alibi for her husband and testifies for the prosecution that the man admitted to the crime. Say it with me: Hijinks Ensue, Christie style. And if there was anyone who could match Christie for Twistedness factor, it was surely Billy Wilder. The surprise ending staggered audiences (and no, Im not telling), the acting crackles with life from end to end (especially in Laughtons case), and the mise en scene is fabulously dramatic. This is a master of suspense placed into the hands of a master or weirdness and subtlety and it is just plain riveting. Amy Glynn

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The 100 Best Movies of the 1950s - Paste Magazine