Zach’s Top 10 – The 90’s

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The 1990’s in film was marked by the rise of outsiders on the fringe of mainstream cinema, propelling their previously-obscure name to instant celebrity status with releases of their films at festivals such as Sundance and Cannes.  It was an era where you didn’t need to have a film degree to make solid Hollywood entertainment (Quentin Tarantino, Kevin Smith); all you needed to have was Harvey Weinstein’s backing and your film would be a success with both audiences and Oscar voters.  Since none of my top ten films of the 90s were made by Miramax, few of them received the Oscar notoriety the really deserved (except for two obvious ones). 

Two of these films were set in space; three of them seemed to take place in the middle of nowhere.  Quite a few of them had truly dysfunctional families; only one of these families was fictional, but all of them felt painstakingly real.  Interestingly, only three of these films were set in the 1990s; the rest were historical pieces in one way or another.  Perhaps this reflected the prevailing nostalgia sweeping America, yearning for major league baseball without players’ strikes, a President whose sex life was kept private, and a world where O.J. Simpson’s biggest public faux pas was appearing in the Naked Gun films.

10. Titanic (James Cameron, 1997) - Yes, it won 11 Oscars and earned a box office gross larger than the GDPs of most first-world nations.  But beneath the larger-than-life surface of James Cameron’s very definition of “Hollywood Behemoth” was a striking, beautifully rendered tale of tragedy and the powerful effect of idealized love.  The only reason the relationship between Jack and Rose works is because of the appealing and witty leads, Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet; but their entire relationship could be put aside for Cameron’s stunning one-hour sinking of the ship, which plays out nightmarish second only to the real event.  Hollywood craftsmanship at its absolute finest.

9. The War Zone (Tim Roth, 1999) - Roth’s little-known British import was only in release for a couple of weeks in the 1990s, but contained some of the ripest, most riveting performances of the decade, particularly from previously-untrained actors Freddie Cunliffe and Lara Belmont (whose performance may be the best of any film from the decade).  The content matter is tough to stomach (incest), the lush Devon atmosphere is claustrophobic, and the overall tenor is downtrodden and melancholy.  But if you can endure the film’s unrelenting brutality, you will recognize its incredible staying power.

8. Contact (Robert Zemekis, 1997) - Quite simply, the best, fairest film ever made about the divide between science and faith, while also containing a keen knowledge of political and corporate shrewdness.  When signals are broadcast to earth from the distant planet Vega, scientist Ellie Arroway (Jodie Foster) leads a team that will hopefully uncover the greatest discovery of all time.  Excellent writing, with superb visual effects and a story that, despite its length, feels like is told in half the film’s running time because of how compelling it is.

7. The Bridges of Madison County (Clint Eastwood, 1995) - The ultimate example of how a movie can be better than the book on which it is based, Eastwood transcends the carnal trappings of the Waller novel into something profound and fleeting – the search for meaning and love in a banal, mundane world.  The two leads (Eastwood and Meryl Streep) have astonishing chemistry, to be sure; and Streep’s vivacious Iowan housewife transplanted from her native Italy is strikingly believable, particularly in a mesmerizing sequence taking place in a car during a rain storm (arguably the best single scene from any film of the 1990s).  Eastwood is an economical, classical storyteller who takes his time to weave a tragic narrative that can be read multiple ways, but consistently remains universally affecting.

6. The Man in the Moon (Robert Mulligan, 1991) - A small, touching drama from director Mulligan (whose only other notable credit was To Kill a Mockingbird) chronicling a summer romance between 14-year-old Dani Trant (Reese Witherspoon, in her motion picture debut) and an older neighbor boy named Court (Jason London).  The film is wholesome and sweet, but fun and unpredictable too, with formula and cliché sidestepped in favor of subtle, careful character development and powerful exchanges of first love.  The film’s final ten minutes are a complete change in mood to the earlier joy and serenity, but contain passages of truth and love that are rarely seen at the movies.

5. GoodFellas (Martin Scorsese, 1990) - Better than The Godfather, Scorsese’s iconic entry into the fabled gangster genre of American cinema is so much more about thug life.  It is about the hopes and dreams of average Americans, the rise and fall of families and friendships, and even the quest for adventure in a world that too often seems dead.  Equipped with one of the best soundtracks ever put on film, Scorsese once again provides a riveting storyline met with equally memorable performances and an array of technically impressive shots and framing devices.

4. Crumb (Terry Zwigoff, 1995) - A spellbinding, hilarious, heartbreaking documentary about Robert Crumb, the 1960s-infused pop cartoonist behind such iconic images as “Keep on Truckin’” and Fritz the Cat.  The film manages to be about three things simultaneously – Crumb’s artwork and its integration of events from his own life, Crumb’s cult of celebrity, and Crumb’s wildly unusual family.  A film about sex, fractured relationships, and (on a deeper level) the power of art to transcend the perils and struggles of ordinary life.  James Berardinelli has a wonderful quote about this film and its morally ambivalent titular figure: “Whatever opinion a viewer has of Crumb at the end of this film, an apathetic reaction is unthinkable.”  Is that not all we can hope for when we go to the cinema?

3. Schindler’s List (Steven Spielberg, 1993) - Spielberg’s film is not merely a retelling of the horrors of the Holocaust; it is actually more effective as a portrait of an opportunistic bureaucrat (Liam Neeson) who slowly uncovers the startling truth about Nazi attitudes toward “inferior peoples” and, on a larger level, learns the gift of compassion and care.  A stunning ode to the heroics of survivors of the Holocaust, and the few individuals brave enough to risk their personal well-beings for the safety and livelihood of those singled out by rampant ideology gone awry.

2. Apollo 13 (Ron Howard, 1995) - A deliberate, intentional film that moves swiftly and gracefully, leaving its viewer with little time to catch his breath.  Director Howard knows that viewers are aware of the eventual triumph over potential tragedy during the failed spacecraft’s voyage to the moon in 1970, so instead he opts to focus on the incredible unity and cohesion of the astronauts and NASA engineers who dedicated countless hours to the safe rescue of three men stranded in outer space.  A testament to teamwork, vision, and the power to endure through failure.

1. Fargo (Joel and Ethan Coen, 1996) - A masterpiece from its very first frame to its bittersweet final reel, Fargo never really tries to be the best film of the 1990s.  Its low-key, droll depiction of “Minnesota nice” is less-than-spectacular in comparison to Titanic or Schindler’s List; but like Madison County, its characters, story, and dialogue more than make up for the lack of scenery (even though Roger Deakins’ cinematography is, for the record, quite accomplished).  A true example of a completely and utterly unpredictable film, Fargo begins as a polished portrait of a complex money-making scheme on the part of unscrupulous car salesman William H. Macy, but unbelievable ends up the story of the chirpy policewoman (Frances McDormand, astonishing) uncovering the truth behind a series of grisly roadside murders.  Movies aren’t made like this, with respect and delicate care shown toward its memorable characters and fascinated audience.  So much of this movie are scenes that, ostensibly, serve little purpose except to advance the feeling of inimitable northern hospitality and character development; but that may be the point of the Coens here, to show not the insidious details of a few murders, but to illustrate, to deadpan humor and shocking depravity, the contradictory extreme spectrums of human nature.  A perfect film, quotable, revealing, insanely entertaining, void of a single flaw, masterful in its first viewing or its 100^th.  A gold standard by with filmmakers and lovers of the medium should adhere by.