12. Lost in New York (1989), directed by Jean Rollin
Jean Rollin’s films are often brilliant bursts of gallic, gothic horror. Then there’s his pornographic phase. “Lost in New York” falls into his late career period where he’s sort of abandoned logic even further, embraced more digital filmmaking, and built on ideas of the past. Bodies in motion….. silent trespass across graveyards and castle fields…. a near abhorrence of linear storytelling in favor of atmospheric dread. And while Lost in New York is more playful than the rest, this tale of two young girls magically whisked away to the big apple in the late 1980’s who spend most of the film running around looking for each other, falls right in line with Rollin’s otherworldly aesthetic. Screened on the Criterion Channel.
11. Emmanuelle (2024)
The final third of Audrey Diwan’s re-imagining of the “Emmanuelle” experience is stellar. From the search for an elusive club named the Fenwick to its startling cut to black, Emmanuelle echoes the arch softcore overtones of the original while transforming itself into something modernly complex. As the title character in search of various sexual escapades, Noemie Merlant is fantastic, exuding confidence and sensuality in a role that’s become famous for its skin-flick place in erotic cinema history. But Diwan has wisely re-appropriated the quiet intelligence and calculated exploration of self-fulfillment and kink that, I think, has always been the basis for the original source novel. Yes, Diwan’s film maintains its fair share of arch porno pretensions (and some dialogue conversations are straight from a Penthouse-letter-style with a bit more eloquence), but this version has the serene patience, glorious look, and general attitude of a serious examination of the act of desire in the modern world. Spoiler- And for people clutching their pearls because the two leads don’t sleep, is it too hard to believe that perhaps Kei Will Sharp) is also a sexual traveler of the world and the film is a bifurcated glance at two people spinning sexual entropy? Screened on HBO Max.
10. The Great Sinner (1949)
In the late 90’s, some friends and I ventured to Las Vegas for the first time…… not to gamble, mind you, but because there was a Star Trek themed casino and event center. My gambling days ended pretty quickly after losing $20 in about fifteen seconds of blackjack. The thought of spending that money on food or entertainment elsewhere far outweighed any penchant I had for the (very small) possibility of “winning it big”. The next morning, we got up early to get breakfast and sight see the town- something that no one obviously does in a desert oasis designed for nocturnal excess. As we roamed through the hotel/casino, the vestiges of men and women lingering in various states of haggard existence with shaggy, red eyes was quite the shocking scene. At one table, a man was still rolling dice, his clothes crumpled and his hair twisted, unkempt. As a female companion walked up to him, he snapped loudly towards her something about not standing so close while he rolled the dice. It was an indelible moment for me. This was a degenerate gambler…. someone who lived and died on the next roll of dice or the next turn of a card. Robert Siodmak’s adaptation of Dostoevsky’s “The Gambler” nails what I sensed from this man. Starring Gregory Peck as a writer who, initially, tries his luck at gambling to win over the favors of the beautiful Ava Garder and her debt-ridden father (Melvyn Douglas) soon becomes an acrid portrait of a man also losing himself in the depths of the great ebbs and flows of addiction. I’ve loved watching all of Siodmak’s films over the last couple of years and The Great Sinner delivers another knockout.
9. El Vampiro Negro (1953), directed by Roman Barreto
Praise to the Criterion Channel for its robust rotation of world cinema, and their recent month’s spotlight on Argentinian Noir is another example. It’s rare that one subject provides so much interesting fodder for the movies, but the Weimar Republic crimes of serial killer Peter Kurten has done just that. From Fritz Lang (whose early 1930’s M remains the best of the bunch) to Joseph Losey to Robert Hossein, filmmakers have been interpreting his ghastly deeds into some powerful thriller cinema since the 30’s. Add Roman Barreto’s El Vampiro Negro to the list…. a bold and visually stunning entry that not only adds genuine tension to the murders and ultimate manhunt of the killer (played here by Nathan Pinzon), but also peppers the film with a certain melodramatic flare that feels right at home in the cloistered films of the 1950’s. A true ensemble picture, rotating between the killer stalking his adolescent prey and the people trying to stop him (from police inspectors to nightclub dancer witnesses), El Vampiro Negro is thoroughly engrossing and tense, especially in its denouement where, like Lang’s M, justice is doled out not from the establishment, but the intrepid poor. The film also looks incredible, from its carefully composed and angular shots (a man standing with water rippling off to his side, a perfectly aligned shot of two young girls walking between trees and the wheel of a car) to its nightmarish exploitation of light and shadow in the underground sewers that makes the innocent appear more devilish than the frantic murderer. Such an amazing discovery for me. Screened on the Criterion Channel.
8. Death of a Corrupt Man (1977), directed by Georges Lautner
“He votes against long hair, porn, and abortions. But not arms dealing.” French politicians of the 1970’s in Georges Lautner’s wonderful Death of a Corrupt Man haven’t changed their stripes from the global democracy of today, apparently. One of the best of the 70’s French paranoid thrillers that stars two of my favorite actors, Alain Delon and Ornella Muti and just drips with corruption behind every movement and action, the film’s tense grip on who’s watching who only grows tighter (and somehow weirder) after Klaus Kinski shows up as a high ranking political figure also involved in the hunt for a document that could ruin everyone. The said document, held by the beautiful Muti, becomes the focal point in a film that never really clarifies who is good/bad/or corrupt, but seamlessly posits that in a world this awash with self-preservation, it doesn’t really matter any longer. Directed by veteran filmmaker Georges Lautner (who made a host of action and crime thrillers with lots of Delon, Belmondo and Michel Constantin), Death of a Corrupt Man stands out for its austere tone and commitment to a reality where there’s little room to breathe and even less room to say the wrong thing in public. Floating at the margins of the mystery are the dead man’s drunken wife (Stephane Audran), her new lover (Julien Guiomar) and two police officers trying to unravel the deaths (Jean Bouise and Michel Aumont). How it plays out (in typical fatalist fashion) is yet another of the claustrophobic joys of a film that not only seems to get the blase attitude of those in charge, but the only thing that ever seems to generate sizeable action on their part is mobilizing to protect themselves. Oh, and Delon’s apartment with a view of the Eiffel Tower? Wow. Available on a PAL Region 2 DVD.
7. When a Woman Ascends the Stairs (1960), directed by Mikio Naruse
Despite its mid-century Japanese culture and zen-like attention to character, Mikio Naruse’s When a Woman Ascends the Stairs features just about as much hustle as anxiety inducing films like Uncut Gems (2018), The Nickel Ride (1975) or Save the Tiger (1973). But instead of a compromised gambler, low level gangster, or exasperated businessman, the person at the heart of a financial and personal crisis is Ginza bar hostess Keiko (Hideko Takamine). desperately trying to stay afloat in a world of debt and unwanted romantic advancements. And this is before her brother shows up wanting money for her nephew’s surgery. This is a wonderful film about maintaining a noble face in the rush of insurmountable odds and remaining true when every person in one’s life seems to be pulling the strings towards something reciprocal. Screened on The Criterion Channel.
6. True Love (1989), directed by Nancy Savoca Nancy Savoca’s 1989 Sundance winning dramedy is a delight, peppered with the faces and personalities of people who would dot the film and television landscape for decades (Aida Turturro, Vincent Pastore, Savario Guerra, Steven Randazzo). But the real force is Annabella Sciorra as Donna, the young Italian American woman dealing with the travails of her encroaching marriage to Michael (Ron Eldard) and his unwillingness to break from old habits of late-night drinking and bar hopping with his friends. Part rambling drama about a very specific time and place in New York in the late 80’s and a warm comedy about mores and manners of a certain lifestyle, True Love nails both through-lines with depth and humanity. And that final scene is a gem, re-establishing the gradual realization that marriage (like the bus ride at the end of The Graduate) is not the magic elixir of a new life, but a slow progression of the familiar failings and underwhelming emotions that have preceded it. Now they have to live with it. Available on KL Studios Blu-ray.
5. Night of the Juggler (1980) – directed by Robert Butler
Aka sweaty, frazzled New York City pandemonium. While ostensibly an action film in which James Brolin crashes around New York City with his shirt half undone, and cops engage in shotgun shootouts on midtown streets, Night of the Juggler works best as an acrid reply to the malaise of the city in the late 70’s and early 80’s. As the hostage taker to Brolin’s teenage daughter, Cliff Gorman’s portrayal of Gus as a dislodged sewer worker, still stewing over the demolition of his home and family, is one of the more memorable villains lashing out at society’s ills, and Night of the Juggler isn’t far removed from the wasteland violence of Walter Hill’s The Warriors (1980) or the embedded corruption implicit in so many of Sidney Lumet’s best works. I’ve heard about this film for years and it doesn’t disappoint as both a stellar entry in this genre as well as a film whose every twitch, glance, face, location, and voice feels perfectly stitched in time of New York in the late 70’s. Available on a new 4K DVD from KL Studios Classics.
4. Pictures of Ghosts (2023), directed by Kleber Mendonca Filho
Filho is receiving a lot of buzz for his latest film, The Secret Agent (2025), and his previous film Pictures of Ghosts serves as a nice companion piece for that film which was borne out of some of the ideas examined here. Situated perfectly between the frames of a cine-memoir to the movie palaces, films, and earthy inspirations of the city of his youth (Recife) with a transfixing blend of regional reverie, Filho makes history both personal and sweeping. And what an ending! I continually look forward to whatever this brilliant filmmaker does next. Screened on the Criterion Channel.
3. I Guappi (1974), directed by Pasquale Squitieri
My love of Claudia Cardinale brought me to Italian filmmaker Squitieri and I Guappi, aka Blood Brothers. A minor voice in Italian Eurocrime, if the rest of his films are as incisive and intelligent as this one, than all respecting film festivals need a retrospective now. Being the first Squiteri film I’ve seen, I can’t say whether I Guappi is a forensic miracle about the minor machinations of Cosa Nostra or a steppingstone in a more obvious career of pantomine 70’s crime. It reminded me of the films of auteur Francesco Rosi, especially Salvatore Guiliano (1962) and Lucky Luciano (1973)- films that utilize iconic figures of the mafia to tell a microscopic story of the political and practical ways in which they impacted each. Starring Cardinale, Franco Nero and Fabio Testi, I Guappi reveals the inauspicious entanglement of the Mafia with everyday life in nineteenth century Italy between the worldviews of two men, with the beautiful Cardinale caught between both. Local politics, the thorny entanglement of organized religion, and Cardinale’s moral balance all play out in a film that soars with very little action or popular mythmaking about the Cosa Nostra lifestyle. A true discovery. Viewed at home via online resources.
2. Mahjong (1996), directed by Edward Yang
The only Edward Yang film I had left to see… sort of. I tried watching it years ago in a print that had subtitles ripped so impenetrably confusing, I doubt a single word was translated correctly. The Criterion Channel has come to my rescue, and, lo and behold, Mahjong stands as one of my favorite Yang films. Everyone here is in a hustle. From the group of four men who entice and then entrap women in prostitution (and then become trapped themselves in some cases) to the older generation and fathers who have left decimated hopes and dreams, the film is an angry riposte to Chinese capitalism in the 1990’s. This is even stated out loud by one of its ex-pat characters (Nick Erikson) to a young French girl (the wonderful Virginie Ledoyen) right before she decides to run away from the country’s economic precipice. Yang decodes all his worries about his country’s future into a series of gracefully composed conversations, sexual entanglements, and shocking violence. But through it all, he dares to end the film on a magnificent grace note where love (and a long-felt kiss) hopefully repels the outside forces of commodity. The master filmmaker never disappoints and we miss him so much.
1. Robbery (1967), directed by Peter Yates
My kind of crime thriller. A refreshing break from the glitzy, inconsequential Euro capers and swaggy star-laden Hollywood heist films of the era. Cold, meticulous, and a real harbinger of the muscular talent filmmaker Pete Yates would retain over the coming years in films like Bullitt and The Friends of Eddie Coyle. A group of men studiously plan the robbery of a train, and as usual, the fallout and eventual fates of all involved becomes twisted and complicated. Yates was clearly channeling Melville and other masters of the genre while timestamping his own intelligence on the mores and methods of the framework of crime. Available on R2 Kino Lorber Classics DVD.
