i just finished reading boulevard of broken dreams: the life, times and legend of james dean by paul alexander. yipes! the writer insisted that he was gay but that wasn't the shocker. him getting molested at 13 by a Reverend DeWeere until he finally leaves home at 18 -- that was the shocker. the kicker? this same reverend (a well-respected pillar of the community and completely above reproach, i might add) eulogizes him at his funeral when he dies at 24 and again on the first anniversary of his death. how creepy is that?
there is no doubt that he had lots of sex with men but personally, i think james dean was on the downlow. i recognized his behavior immediately. when i say "downlow" i don't mean the closeted "i'm not going to tell anyone that i'm gay" approach that everyone is so familiar with these days. what i'm referring to is much more expansive than that. james dean saw sex as a commodity. it was something that he did to get work in hollywood. even though he knew that he was brilliant, he thought that's what he had to do to get "in" with the right people -- and he hated himself for it. sometimes he did it to augment a friendship. but to his way of thinking, it didn't mean that he was actually gay.
to him, sex with men didn't mean homosexuality. it just meant sex with men. this is the very definition of what "the downlow" is all about. to someone on the downlow, homosexuality is for "fags" -- at least that's the way its been explained to me, painstakingly and on numerous occasions. (it took a minute for all of it to sink in but i think i get it now.) that probably explains why he and rock hudson couldn't stand each other. by all accounts, rock hudson was flamboyant and liked to dress up in drag with his friends. james dean was something of an exhibitionist that liked to get blow jobs from men while he was speeding through el-lay. but as far as he was concerned, that didn't make him gay. that just meant that some guy was going down on him. that wasn't who he was. he was just having fun.
gee. i guess he was way ahead of his time in more ways than one.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
renee, giving autographs
i saw last broadway performance of "all shook up" at the palace theater on sunday. i had to -- the show (a retelling of shakespeare's "12th Night" with lots of elvis presley's songs) was my friend renee's broadway debut. unfortunately, it only lasted for about a week or two for my friend, although the show had been up and running for quite some time -- they gave notice to close the production almost as soon as she got the part. when we got to the theater and i told ralph what happened about how she gets the show and then it gets cancelled, he blurted, it's like an episode of "good times"!
it was a matinee show and it was very nearly sold out, a very enthusiastic and jubilant crowd. there were barricades and cops and the usual mayhem that happens at the backstage door when the cast appears. the idea is to get everyone in the cast to sign the show poster. that can make it quite a collectible later on.
i got to sit inbetween dana ("baby girl") rainey and make a remark here and there about the dancing, and jack sprat, an elvis fan -- who honestly thought the show was over at intermission because he figured it had lasted long enough.
i knew quite a few performers in the cast. everyone gave such strong performances. it's elvis, fer cryin' out loud -- really fun crowd pleasing stuff. afterwards, we went to divine bar on 54th and 8th for a cast send-off. hanging out later on gave me a chance to reconnect with old friends -- like john eric parker -- (we did the original cast of the first national tour of RENT together).
i decided awhile ago that although i'd like to do broadway eventually, i'm way more interested in originating roles.
it was a matinee show and it was very nearly sold out, a very enthusiastic and jubilant crowd. there were barricades and cops and the usual mayhem that happens at the backstage door when the cast appears. the idea is to get everyone in the cast to sign the show poster. that can make it quite a collectible later on.
i got to sit inbetween dana ("baby girl") rainey and make a remark here and there about the dancing, and jack sprat, an elvis fan -- who honestly thought the show was over at intermission because he figured it had lasted long enough.
i knew quite a few performers in the cast. everyone gave such strong performances. it's elvis, fer cryin' out loud -- really fun crowd pleasing stuff. afterwards, we went to divine bar on 54th and 8th for a cast send-off. hanging out later on gave me a chance to reconnect with old friends -- like john eric parker -- (we did the original cast of the first national tour of RENT together).
i decided awhile ago that although i'd like to do broadway eventually, i'm way more interested in originating roles.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
oh, williamsburg...
last night, i went to williamsburg to have dinner at planet thai and spend the evening with john f. and porsche and j. willie and gina went out to eat in the city and didn't make it to meet up with us. hanging out on the weekend isn't my style. too many pseudo-hipsters and tourists and urban voyeurs. the best night to go out is wednesday or thursday when most of those people are at home in bed by 10pm so they can make it to their 9 to 5 on time.
we went to a cd release party that was actually happening in john f's former roommate shrimpei's loft space that he shares with his girlfriend. it was a bit off the beaten track but they had a lovely view of the city and some really expensive building across the way that has buses to take it's residents to the L and a water taxi service to take them to wall street. as we pressed our noses against the window and gazed at the desolate street below, shrimpei explained how the entire block changed when that building began construction. his explanation was very a basic gentrification how-to, of course. but there was something more.
i don't like williamsburg. i don't think i ever have -- although in the past, i've found a lot in it to love -- like domsey's, when it was five floors strong and filled with beautiful vintage cocktail dresses that could be had for $5 a pop. *heavy sigh* a few years ago, when it seemed that no one but puerto ricans and hasidic jews were particularly interested in living there, something seemed to be going on. there were these wonderfully ornate yet really inexpensive exotic restaurants to try, there were coffee shops to loll around in, there were watering holes that had vibe, there were a few more artists and musicians than usual here and there, making their way creatively like everyone else in every other borough in nyc. it felt a little like the haight. and then all of a sudden, everything went to hell. the streets were filled with an arrogant breed that were content in the knowledge that they were more fashionable, more talented and way more hip than you. it was almost as though there was a portal that opened up somewhere in the belly of american youth consciousness and let them out at the corner of 7th and bedford, with their trucker hats and their denim jackets and their von dutch t shirts and the like. pouty-faced girls living that sex and the city lifestyle -- high heels, cocktails and all. and that goes double for the lower east side. they are theme parks, really -- replete with four star dining options and the like, amidst the squalor of the ghetto as an exotic backdrop to the day-to-day foibles of their city lives. that ghetto element makes everything dangerous and cool, doesn't it? makes it feel more like what nyc is supposed to be, whatever that is.
they still say that there's a powerful art scene in williamsburg that rivals whatever is going on in manhattan -- or anywhere else in the world, for that matter. my problem with that is that whenever they say that there's a scene somewhere, the scene no longer exists. so what's really going on?
williamsburg seems to be a community of dillitantes, a high-falutin' collective of those who are striving to be artsy misfits, a neighborhood chok-ful of the the young and the marginally talented -- those who are so high on the surety of their talents that they don't seem to realize that they're just not that good.
take the music scene, for example. no one seems to know how to play their instruments. if they do, their band isn't so hot. if it is, they have no songs. and if they do have songs, they aren't running around in williamsburg. and the clubs. well. the sound system can be awfully sketchy, sometimes. that means that if you're a vocalist that's actually singing (like yours truly) and you're not just hollering into a mic like a wounded farm animal, you won't hear yourself because there are no monitors and you'll probably blow your voice out. (which is exactly what happened to me at frank's lounge last week.) if there's a sound system to accommodate you, there might be a busted bass cabinet somewhere out back, but there's no backline. and of course, no one pays a cover to get into your gig and everyone expects freebies all night long -- like pizza and beer and cds and whatever else you got. unless everyone splits everything fair and square, you have to pay the band.
that's williamsburg.
who knows how long it'll take you to learn how to play the drums or finish your master's degree in photography or paint something that sparks someone's interest besides your roommates? if you don't have a trust fund or alimony or well-off parents to pay your bills, you're selling pot out of your bedroom or you have to live with 5 or 6 other people or better yet, your girlfriend is paying all the bills. (at least, she thinks she's your girlfriend...) who knows how long it'll take?
all i know is, williamsburg is too young, too trendy and too gentrified for its own good. i don't have the money to live or gig there but thankfully at least i know where to eat when i visit my friends.
we went to a cd release party that was actually happening in john f's former roommate shrimpei's loft space that he shares with his girlfriend. it was a bit off the beaten track but they had a lovely view of the city and some really expensive building across the way that has buses to take it's residents to the L and a water taxi service to take them to wall street. as we pressed our noses against the window and gazed at the desolate street below, shrimpei explained how the entire block changed when that building began construction. his explanation was very a basic gentrification how-to, of course. but there was something more.
i don't like williamsburg. i don't think i ever have -- although in the past, i've found a lot in it to love -- like domsey's, when it was five floors strong and filled with beautiful vintage cocktail dresses that could be had for $5 a pop. *heavy sigh* a few years ago, when it seemed that no one but puerto ricans and hasidic jews were particularly interested in living there, something seemed to be going on. there were these wonderfully ornate yet really inexpensive exotic restaurants to try, there were coffee shops to loll around in, there were watering holes that had vibe, there were a few more artists and musicians than usual here and there, making their way creatively like everyone else in every other borough in nyc. it felt a little like the haight. and then all of a sudden, everything went to hell. the streets were filled with an arrogant breed that were content in the knowledge that they were more fashionable, more talented and way more hip than you. it was almost as though there was a portal that opened up somewhere in the belly of american youth consciousness and let them out at the corner of 7th and bedford, with their trucker hats and their denim jackets and their von dutch t shirts and the like. pouty-faced girls living that sex and the city lifestyle -- high heels, cocktails and all. and that goes double for the lower east side. they are theme parks, really -- replete with four star dining options and the like, amidst the squalor of the ghetto as an exotic backdrop to the day-to-day foibles of their city lives. that ghetto element makes everything dangerous and cool, doesn't it? makes it feel more like what nyc is supposed to be, whatever that is.
they still say that there's a powerful art scene in williamsburg that rivals whatever is going on in manhattan -- or anywhere else in the world, for that matter. my problem with that is that whenever they say that there's a scene somewhere, the scene no longer exists. so what's really going on?
williamsburg seems to be a community of dillitantes, a high-falutin' collective of those who are striving to be artsy misfits, a neighborhood chok-ful of the the young and the marginally talented -- those who are so high on the surety of their talents that they don't seem to realize that they're just not that good.
take the music scene, for example. no one seems to know how to play their instruments. if they do, their band isn't so hot. if it is, they have no songs. and if they do have songs, they aren't running around in williamsburg. and the clubs. well. the sound system can be awfully sketchy, sometimes. that means that if you're a vocalist that's actually singing (like yours truly) and you're not just hollering into a mic like a wounded farm animal, you won't hear yourself because there are no monitors and you'll probably blow your voice out. (which is exactly what happened to me at frank's lounge last week.) if there's a sound system to accommodate you, there might be a busted bass cabinet somewhere out back, but there's no backline. and of course, no one pays a cover to get into your gig and everyone expects freebies all night long -- like pizza and beer and cds and whatever else you got. unless everyone splits everything fair and square, you have to pay the band.
that's williamsburg.
who knows how long it'll take you to learn how to play the drums or finish your master's degree in photography or paint something that sparks someone's interest besides your roommates? if you don't have a trust fund or alimony or well-off parents to pay your bills, you're selling pot out of your bedroom or you have to live with 5 or 6 other people or better yet, your girlfriend is paying all the bills. (at least, she thinks she's your girlfriend...) who knows how long it'll take?
all i know is, williamsburg is too young, too trendy and too gentrified for its own good. i don't have the money to live or gig there but thankfully at least i know where to eat when i visit my friends.
Friday, September 23, 2005
an audition, a callback, a showcase, oh my!
yesterday started with an audition for law and order: criminal intent at chelsea piers at noon. i got there a little late (i can never find those freaking rooms!) but they were running behind, which wasn't good because i had a callback for a regional christmas musical in delaware called winter wonderettes at 1pm. (cute, right?) it wouldn't be good to show up late for that because i was supposed to dance first and if i missed any of the choreography breakdown, i would be completely derailed. i was excited about law and order, in spite of the fact that i'd auditioned for it about a jillion times and i've never been picked to be on the show. i've come awfully close, though. but when is that ever good enough?
the part was a junkie mom -- 32 years old with a 16 year old daughter, and the daughter has got a kid already. in the scene, the cops confront me at my front door and then we're off to the races. piece of cake. i show up with no make-up on, in a plain dress. i know my lines cold. i've met/lived next door to/befriended that mother many, many times. i know what i'm doing.
law and order is such a franchise. there's got to be at least three different ones, aside from the original. it's really cool that it's based in new york city because it gives theater actors and the like a chance to get in front of the camera without having to go to el lay and stand in line with everyone else. it's funny. everytime i watch any of them, i see someone else i know. so when i get called in to be seen for a part, i'm thinking, wow -- maybe i'll finally bust my law and order cherry. don't get me wrong. i'm not desperate. if it doesn't happen, that's fine. but if it did, it would be nice.
i finally ended up in the casting agent's office, in a narrow area walled in by videotapes and filled with chairs clustered together. there was only a nondescript looking white guy in a button-down shirt sitting there, running lines. the middle aged asian man came in from the hallway, muttering his lines to himself. he stopped long enough to smile at me. a black woman came in, wearing sweats. no make-up. stringy looking dirty blonde extentions. slim and young-looking, but bad skin. (why does anyone have bad skin in this day and age? it's called proactiv, for cryin' out loud. go get some.) she ignored me, of course. once she settled in, she started to run her lines by mouthing the words and making these facial expressions, like she was in the scene. but how did she know what her face was doing. shouldn't she be looking in a mirror to check? according to everything that i was taught about the craft of acting, this was the epitome of what not to do. and the nondescript white guy across from her was pretty much doing the same thing. everything starts internally for me. i've learned how to readjust externally but that's not my focus. after awhile, i couldn' t look at them anymore. when i tell people that i'm an actor, that's what they think i do. (yeesh.)
you know what those two actors really reminded me of? daffy duck, wearing bugs bunny's shakespearean outfit, oversized plumed hat and all, pacing back and forth nervously with a leading man's swagger nonetheless, saying "to be or not to be" in every concievable way that he can think of, until the german director yells, "brrrring in the double!" good ol' daffy strolls in, all comfy because he's selected the just-right version of "to be or not to be" to say on camera -- and has it on repeat in his head until it comes out of his mouth.
no wonder movie actors suck when they do theater.
right about then, three or four really good-looking asian men walked in, all of them casually dressed. there were plenty of chairs but they were so clumped together that we were running out of room. and i was running out of time. i went to the monitor, she got me bumped up and when the door opened, i was summoned.
she moved fast. first, a digital photo of me, a headshot check and then i read for her -- no cameras, nothing. when i was done, she said that i did a really good job and asked me how tall i was. and the next thing i know, i'm on the crosstown bus.
i don't even want to tell you about the callback: how i botched the dance section, in spite of my best efforts; how me singing my brains out didn't help at all because they cut me early and didn't hear me read; how sweet the other girls were and how great everyone looked. oh, well. whatever God wants me to have is what i'll get, no matter what anyone says or thinks.
i ended the night with a wonderful showcase for the songwriter's hall of fame -- it was the 55th new writer's showcase, to be exact. afterwards, ralph and i went to barrio chino and i had that fantastic sopa de pollo with a nice tall deliciously spicy glass of mexican hot chocolate. this is my favorite little spot right now -- the food is so good, it's wacky. and you can trust me on this one. i lived in austin texas for years and i used to work in a fairly popular tex-mex restaurant on 6th street, so i'm extremely picky about mexican cuisine.
okay. so now i'm thinking i should run in the park while it's early and cool, detangle and condition my hair, practice the piano and clean house. that's my big plan for today...
yesterday's movie: get carter. tonight's movie: comedian.
the part was a junkie mom -- 32 years old with a 16 year old daughter, and the daughter has got a kid already. in the scene, the cops confront me at my front door and then we're off to the races. piece of cake. i show up with no make-up on, in a plain dress. i know my lines cold. i've met/lived next door to/befriended that mother many, many times. i know what i'm doing.
law and order is such a franchise. there's got to be at least three different ones, aside from the original. it's really cool that it's based in new york city because it gives theater actors and the like a chance to get in front of the camera without having to go to el lay and stand in line with everyone else. it's funny. everytime i watch any of them, i see someone else i know. so when i get called in to be seen for a part, i'm thinking, wow -- maybe i'll finally bust my law and order cherry. don't get me wrong. i'm not desperate. if it doesn't happen, that's fine. but if it did, it would be nice.
i finally ended up in the casting agent's office, in a narrow area walled in by videotapes and filled with chairs clustered together. there was only a nondescript looking white guy in a button-down shirt sitting there, running lines. the middle aged asian man came in from the hallway, muttering his lines to himself. he stopped long enough to smile at me. a black woman came in, wearing sweats. no make-up. stringy looking dirty blonde extentions. slim and young-looking, but bad skin. (why does anyone have bad skin in this day and age? it's called proactiv, for cryin' out loud. go get some.) she ignored me, of course. once she settled in, she started to run her lines by mouthing the words and making these facial expressions, like she was in the scene. but how did she know what her face was doing. shouldn't she be looking in a mirror to check? according to everything that i was taught about the craft of acting, this was the epitome of what not to do. and the nondescript white guy across from her was pretty much doing the same thing. everything starts internally for me. i've learned how to readjust externally but that's not my focus. after awhile, i couldn' t look at them anymore. when i tell people that i'm an actor, that's what they think i do. (yeesh.)
you know what those two actors really reminded me of? daffy duck, wearing bugs bunny's shakespearean outfit, oversized plumed hat and all, pacing back and forth nervously with a leading man's swagger nonetheless, saying "to be or not to be" in every concievable way that he can think of, until the german director yells, "brrrring in the double!" good ol' daffy strolls in, all comfy because he's selected the just-right version of "to be or not to be" to say on camera -- and has it on repeat in his head until it comes out of his mouth.
no wonder movie actors suck when they do theater.
right about then, three or four really good-looking asian men walked in, all of them casually dressed. there were plenty of chairs but they were so clumped together that we were running out of room. and i was running out of time. i went to the monitor, she got me bumped up and when the door opened, i was summoned.
she moved fast. first, a digital photo of me, a headshot check and then i read for her -- no cameras, nothing. when i was done, she said that i did a really good job and asked me how tall i was. and the next thing i know, i'm on the crosstown bus.
i don't even want to tell you about the callback: how i botched the dance section, in spite of my best efforts; how me singing my brains out didn't help at all because they cut me early and didn't hear me read; how sweet the other girls were and how great everyone looked. oh, well. whatever God wants me to have is what i'll get, no matter what anyone says or thinks.
i ended the night with a wonderful showcase for the songwriter's hall of fame -- it was the 55th new writer's showcase, to be exact. afterwards, ralph and i went to barrio chino and i had that fantastic sopa de pollo with a nice tall deliciously spicy glass of mexican hot chocolate. this is my favorite little spot right now -- the food is so good, it's wacky. and you can trust me on this one. i lived in austin texas for years and i used to work in a fairly popular tex-mex restaurant on 6th street, so i'm extremely picky about mexican cuisine.
okay. so now i'm thinking i should run in the park while it's early and cool, detangle and condition my hair, practice the piano and clean house. that's my big plan for today...
yesterday's movie: get carter. tonight's movie: comedian.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
guitar rehearsal at my place
usually when i'm preparing the band for a gig, i'll do at least one guitar rehearsal at my place. somehow, separating the guitars from everything else puts things in their proper perspective. and sometimes there's really good tex-mex involved when we're done.
i love the way the pedal steel guitar swirls around my feelings when i sing. i will never get enough of that.
this is a moment that happened when bob and i were hashing something out with a new song and i happened to pass jack sprat the camera. trippy stuff. who knew my little living room could be so surreal?
i love the way the pedal steel guitar swirls around my feelings when i sing. i will never get enough of that.
this is a moment that happened when bob and i were hashing something out with a new song and i happened to pass jack sprat the camera. trippy stuff. who knew my little living room could be so surreal?
Monday, September 19, 2005
movielandia
i'm on a mission to see all the movies in imdb's top 100 listing, to catch up on all the stuff i should have seen by now but haven't for some reason. here it is:
i'm going to see a movie a day from now on, if i can. on sunday, i saw the movie blue starring binoche and returned part two of schindler's list because netflix never sent part one. while i'm waiting for get carter starring michael caine, i think i'll go see jarmusch's broken flowers tomorrow night.
| 1. | 9.0 | The Godfather (1972) | 136,871 |
| 2. | 9.0 | The Shawshank Redemption (1994) | 165,738 |
| 3. | 8.9 | The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003) | 120,082 |
| 4. | 8.9 | The Godfather: Part II (1974) | 78,827 |
| 5. | 8.8 | Shichinin no samurai (1954) | 36,244 |
| 6. | 8.8 | Schindler's List (1993) | 105,940 |
| 7. | 8.8 | Casablanca (1942) | 71,465 |
| 8. | 8.7 | Star Wars (1977) | 148,724 |
| 9. | 8.7 | Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back (1980) | 115,729 |
| 10. | 8.7 | Buono, il brutto, il cattivo, Il (1966) | 35,068 |
| 11. | 8.7 | Pulp Fiction (1994) | 147,213 |
| 12. | 8.7 | The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) | 170,836 |
| 13. | 8.7 | One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) | 76,198 |
| 14. | 8.7 | The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002) | 127,530 |
| 15. | 8.7 | Rear Window (1954) | 44,637 |
| 16. | 8.6 | Citizen Kane (1941) | 65,693 |
| 17. | 8.6 | Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964) | 68,857 |
| 18. | 8.6 | Cidade de Deus (2002) | 32,103 |
| 19. | 8.6 | The Usual Suspects (1995) | 112,287 |
| 20. | 8.6 | Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) | 100,962 |
| 21. | 8.6 | 12 Angry Men (1957) | 32,223 |
| 22. | 8.6 | Memento (2000) | 99,672 |
| 23. | 8.6 | C'era una volta il West (1968) | 19,744 |
| 24. | 8.5 | North by Northwest (1959) | 38,488 |
| 25. | 8.5 | Psycho (1960) | 58,149 |
| 26. | 8.5 | Goodfellas (1990) | 75,076 |
| 27. | 8.5 | Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain, Le (2001) | 66,016 |
| 28. | 8.5 | Lawrence of Arabia (1962) | 33,745 |
| 29. | 8.5 | It's a Wonderful Life (1946) | 44,039 |
| 30. | 8.5 | The Silence of the Lambs (1991) | 99,024 |
| 31. | 8.5 | Sunset Blvd. (1950) | 17,801 |
| 32. | 8.5 | Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) | 57,274 |
| 33. | 8.5 | American Beauty (1999) | 118,904 |
| 34. | 8.5 | The Matrix (1999) | 155,674 |
| 35. | 8.5 | Fight Club (1999) | 124,453 |
| 36. | 8.4 | Apocalypse Now (1979) | 70,339 |
| 37. | 8.4 | Vertigo (1958) | 36,653 |
| 38. | 8.4 | The Pianist (2002) | 34,970 |
| 39. | 8.4 | Paths of Glory (1957) | 15,895 |
| 40. | 8.4 | To Kill a Mockingbird (1962) | 32,733 |
| 41. | 8.4 | Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi (2001) | 28,218 |
| 42. | 8.4 | Taxi Driver (1976) | 52,488 |
| 43. | 8.4 | The Third Man (1949) | 19,973 |
| 44. | 8.4 | Se7en (1995) | 96,940 |
| 45. | 8.4 | Hotel Rwanda (2004) | 14,567 |
| 46. | 8.4 | Boot, Das (1981) | 31,254 |
| 47. | 8.3 | Crash (2004) | 17,919 |
| 48. | 8.3 | Léon (1994) | 58,738 |
| 49. | 8.3 | M (1931) | 13,246 |
| 50. | 8.3 | Requiem for a Dream (2000) | 54,010 |
| 51. | 8.3 | Double Indemnity (1944) | 12,688 |
| 52. | 8.3 | Singin' in the Rain (1952) | 22,267 |
| 53. | 8.3 | Chinatown (1974) | 28,139 |
| 54. | 8.3 | Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) | 66,065 |
| 55. | 8.3 | Some Like It Hot (1959) | 27,521 |
| 56. | 8.3 | Rashômon (1950) | 12,981 |
| 57. | 8.3 | L.A. Confidential (1997) | 74,526 |
| 58. | 8.3 | All About Eve (1950) | 14,174 |
| 59. | 8.3 | The Maltese Falcon (1941) | 21,026 |
| 60. | 8.3 | The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) | 24,271 |
| 61. | 8.3 | American History X (1998) | 66,405 |
| 62. | 8.3 | Modern Times (1936) | 11,362 |
| 63. | 8.3 | Untergang, Der (2004) | 13,129 |
| 64. | 8.3 | Million Dollar Baby (2004) | 30,548 |
| 65. | 8.3 | Alien (1979) | 68,735 |
| 66. | 8.3 | Raging Bull (1980) | 29,806 |
| 67. | 8.3 | Saving Private Ryan (1998) | 108,428 |
| 68. | 8.3 | A Clockwork Orange (1971) | 71,279 |
| 69. | 8.3 | Vita è bella, La (1997) | 40,967 |
| 70. | 8.3 | The Incredibles (2004) | 38,984 |
| 71. | 8.3 | The Sting (1973) | 25,570 |
| 72. | 8.2 | Reservoir Dogs (1992) | 76,095 |
| 73. | 8.2 | The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) | 11,436 |
| 74. | 8.2 | Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003) | 74,425 |
| 75. | 8.2 | Amadeus (1984) | 39,806 |
| 76. | 8.2 | Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) | 12,599 |
| 77. | 8.2 | The Manchurian Candidate (1962) | 15,540 |
| 78. | 8.2 | City Lights (1931) | 8,577 |
| 79. | 8.2 | The Great Escape (1963) | 22,181 |
| 80. | 8.2 | The Shining (1980) | 55,867 |
| 81. | 8.2 | On the Waterfront (1954) | 14,151 |
| 82. | 8.2 | The Apartment (1960) | 12,264 |
| 83. | 8.2 | Ran (1985) | 13,350 |
| 84. | 8.2 | The Wizard of Oz (1939) | 41,556 |
| 85. | 8.2 | Aliens (1986) | 68,921 |
| 86. | 8.2 | 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) | 69,625 |
| 87. | 8.2 | Sjunde inseglet, Det (1957) | 10,851 |
| 88. | 8.2 | Metropolis (1927) | 13,186 |
| 89. | 8.2 | Touch of Evil (1958) | 12,752 |
| 90. | 8.2 | Sin City (2005) | 53,371 |
| 91. | 8.2 | Kill Bill: Vol. 2 (2004) | 52,209 |
| 92. | 8.2 | The Great Dictator (1940) | 11,686 |
| 93. | 8.2 | Braveheart (1995) | 99,609 |
| 94. | 8.2 | Donnie Darko (2001) | 60,669 |
| 95. | 8.2 | Nuovo cinema Paradiso (1989) | 15,310 |
| 96. | 8.2 | Jaws (1975) | 51,506 |
| 97. | 8.2 | Strangers on a Train (1951) | 11,612 |
| 98. | 8.2 | High Noon (1952) | 13,533 |
| 99. | 8.2 | Oldboy (2003) | 13,657 |
| 100. | 8.2 | Finding Nemo (2003) | 47,734 |
| 101. | 8.2 | Fargo (1996) | 70,257 |
| 102. | 8.2 | Annie Hall (1977) | 23,535 |
| 103. | 8.2 | Mononoke-hime (1997) | 21,642 |
| 104. | 8.2 | Forrest Gump (1994) | 98,244 |
| 105. | 8.1 | Blade Runner (1982) | 80,157 |
| 106. | 8.1 | Full Metal Jacket (1987) | 52,256 |
| 107. | 8.1 | The General (1927) | 7,268 |
| 108. | 8.1 | Wo hu cang long (2000) | 55,651 |
| 109. | 8.1 | Rebecca (1940) | 12,417 |
| 110. | 8.1 | Yojimbo (1961) | 10,096 |
| 111. | 8.1 | Ladri di biciclette (1948) | 8,182 |
| 112. | 8.1 | Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991) | 84,173 |
| 113. | 8.1 | The Best Years of Our Lives (1946) | 6,765 |
| 114. | 8.1 | The Princess Bride (1987) | 57,895 |
| 115. | 8.1 | Before Sunset (2004) | 11,549 |
| 116. | 8.1 | The Sixth Sense (1999) | 104,534 |
| 117. | 8.1 | Batman Begins (2005) | 53,668 |
| 118. | 8.1 | Once Upon a Time in America (1984) | 21,497 |
| 119. | 8.1 | The Big Sleep (1946) | 10,889 |
| 120. | 8.1 | Notorious (1946) | 11,589 |
| 121. | 8.1 | It Happened One Night (1934) | 8,655 |
| 122. | 8.1 | Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969) | 21,972 |
| 123. | 8.1 | Duck Soup (1933) | 10,770 |
| 124. | 8.1 | Star Wars: Episode VI - Return of the Jedi (1983) | 92,405 |
| 125. | 8.1 | Smultronstället (1957) | 5,930 |
| 126. | 8.1 | The Elephant Man (1980) | 18,049 |
| 127. | 8.1 | Cool Hand Luke (1967) | 15,501 |
| 128. | 8.1 | The Graduate (1967) | 30,006 |
| 129. | 8.1 | Finding Neverland (2004) | 24,652 |
| 130. | 8.1 | Unforgiven (1992) | 33,673 |
| 131. | 8.1 | Patton (1970) | 15,662 |
| 132. | 8.0 | Lola rennt (1998) | 35,571 |
| 133. | 8.0 | The Deer Hunter (1978) | 30,938 |
| 134. | 8.0 | Amores perros (2000) | 17,266 |
| 135. | 8.0 | The Green Mile (1999) | 66,097 |
| 136. | 8.0 | Back to the Future (1985) | 74,572 |
| 137. | 8.0 | The Philadelphia Story (1940) | 11,409 |
| 138. | 8.0 | Ben-Hur (1959) | 22,823 |
| 139. | 8.0 | Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989) | 66,782 |
| 140. | 8.0 | Ying xiong (2002) | 28,330 |
| 141. | 8.0 | Glory (1989) | 23,578 |
| 142. | 8.0 | The Gold Rush (1925) | 7,041 |
| 143. | 8.0 | Toy Story 2 (1999) | 44,339 |
| 144. | 8.0 | Platoon (1986) | 38,560 |
| 145. | 8.0 | Stalag 17 (1953) | 7,786 |
| 146. | 8.0 | Bringing Up Baby (1938) | 10,097 |
| 147. | 8.0 | Manhattan (1979) | 13,516 |
| 148. | 8.0 | A Christmas Story (1983) | 21,311 |
| 149. | 8.0 | Life of Brian (1979) | 36,242 |
| 150. | 8.0 | Arsenic and Old Lace (1944) | 12,311 |
| 151. | 8.0 | The Grapes of Wrath (1940) | 8,538 |
| 152. | 8.0 | The African Queen (1951) | 14,740 |
| 153. | 8.0 | The Wild Bunch (1969) | 11,504 |
| 154. | 8.0 | Witness for the Prosecution (1957) | 5,604 |
| 155. | 8.0 | The Hustler (1961) | 9,039 |
| 156. | 8.0 | The Searchers (1956) | 11,084 |
| 157. | 8.0 | All Quiet on the Western Front (1930) | 7,545 |
| 158. | 8.0 | Gone with the Wind (1939) | 31,317 |
| 159. | 8.0 | Big Fish (2003) | 37,877 |
| 160. | 8.0 | Hable con ella (2002) | 14,216 |
| 161. | 8.0 | Mystic River (2003) | 33,837 |
| 162. | 8.0 | Die Hard (1988) | 63,689 |
| 163. | 8.0 | The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) | 8,107 |
| 164. | 8.0 | Quatre cents coups, Les (1959) | 7,219 |
| 165. | 8.0 | Shrek (2001) | 71,352 |
| 166. | 8.0 | The Straight Story (1999) | 16,126 |
| 167. | 8.0 | Gladiator (2000) | 100,723 |
| 168. | 8.0 | Roman Holiday (1953) | 10,420 |
| 169. | 8.0 | The Killing (1956) | 7,776 |
| 170. | 8.0 | Passion de Jeanne d'Arc, La (1928) | 3,983 |
| 171. | 8.0 | The Night of the Hunter (1955) | 8,367 |
| 172. | 8.0 | Mar adentro (2004/I) | 5,732 |
| 173. | 8.0 | Hotaru no haka (1988) | 8,113 |
| 174. | 8.0 | Festen (1998) | 13,137 |
| 175. | 8.0 | His Girl Friday (1940) | 7,355 |
| 176. | 7.9 | Young Frankenstein (1974) | 24,209 |
| 177. | 7.9 | Ikiru (1952) | 4,811 |
| 178. | 7.9 | The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962) | 8,018 |
| 179. | 7.9 | Sideways (2004) | 24,028 |
| 180. | 7.9 | Magnolia (1999) | 50,254 |
| 181. | 7.9 | Harvey (1950) | 8,559 |
| 182. | 7.9 | Ed Wood (1994) | 25,272 |
| 183. | 7.9 | Bronenosets Potyomkin (1925) | 6,695 |
| 184. | 7.9 | Grande illusion, La (1937) | 5,461 |
| 185. | 7.9 | Charade (1963) | 10,024 |
| 186. | 7.9 | The Conversation (1974) | 11,205 |
| 187. | 7.9 | 8½ (1963) | 8,879 |
| 188. | 7.9 | Monsters, Inc. (2001) | 42,627 |
| 189. | 7.9 | Strada, La (1954) | 5,562 |
| 190. | 7.9 | The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) | 11,047 |
| 191. | 7.9 | Per qualche dollaro in più (1965) | 10,288 |
| 192. | 7.9 | Gandhi (1982) | 17,234 |
| 193. | 7.9 | Sling Blade (1996) | 21,955 |
| 194. | 7.9 | Spartacus (1960) | 18,716 |
| 195. | 7.9 | Groundhog Day (1993) | 48,811 |
| 196. | 7.9 | Trainspotting (1996) | 56,633 |
| 197. | 7.9 | Trois couleurs: Rouge (1994) | 11,280 |
| 198. | 7.9 | A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) | 10,602 |
| 199. | 7.9 | Shadow of a Doubt (1943) | 6,342 |
| 200. | 7.9 | Brazil (1985) | 33,267 |
| 201. | 7.9 | Stand by Me (1986) | 33,593 |
| 202. | 7.9 | Twelve Monkeys (1995) | 67,388 |
| 203. | 7.9 | A Night at the Opera (1935) | 6,554 |
| 204. | 7.9 | All the President's Men (1976) | 13,874 |
| 205. | 7.9 | Dog Day Afternoon (1975) | 16,731 |
| 206. | 7.9 | Laura (1944) | 5,192 |
| 207. | 7.9 | Toy Story (1995) | 49,754 |
| 208. | 7.9 | Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927) | 2,983 |
| 209. | 7.9 | Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens (1922) | 9,355 |
| 210. | 7.9 | In America (2002) | 9,870 |
| 211. | 7.9 | Lost in Translation (2003) | 49,158 |
| 212. | 7.9 | Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966) | 7,672 |
| 213. | 7.9 | The Big Lebowski (1998) | 55,608 |
| 214. | 7.9 | Almost Famous (2000) | 42,119 |
| 215. | 7.9 | The Insider (1999) | 31,090 |
| 216. | 7.9 | Snatch. (2000) | 50,239 |
| 217. | 7.9 | To Be or Not to Be (1942) | 4,050 |
| 218. | 7.9 | Persona (1966) | 4,251 |
| 219. | 7.9 | Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998) | 38,146 |
| 220. | 7.9 | Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003) | 69,531 |
| 221. | 7.9 | The Lion in Winter (1968) | 6,399 |
| 222. | 7.9 | Network (1976) | 10,440 |
| 223. | 7.9 | Fanny och Alexander (1982) | 4,952 |
| 224. | 7.9 | The Exorcist (1973) | 37,512 |
| 225. | 7.9 | This Is Spinal Tap (1984) | 22,632 |
| 226. | 7.9 | The Terminator (1984) | 64,810 |
| 227. | 7.9 | Mulholland Dr. (2001) | 39,470 |
| 228. | 7.8 | Garden State (2004) | 31,766 |
| 229. | 7.8 | Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949) | 3,956 |
| 230. | 7.8 | Judgment at Nuremberg (1961) | 3,825 |
| 231. | 7.8 | The Station Agent (2003) | 8,603 |
| 232. | 7.8 | Taegukgi hwinalrimyeo (2004) | 3,255 |
| 233. | 7.8 | 21 Grams (2003) | 25,913 |
| 234. | 7.8 | Heat (1995) | 49,258 |
| 235. | 7.8 | Battaglia di Algeri, La (1965) | 2,580 |
| 236. | 7.8 | Being There (1979) | 11,516 |
| 237. | 7.8 | Miller's Crossing (1990) | 16,086 |
| 238. | 7.8 | Rain Man (1988) | 46,452 |
| 239. | 7.8 | Bom yeoreum gaeul gyeoul geurigo bom (2003) | 3,898 |
| 240. | 7.8 | Barry Lyndon (1975) | 13,742 |
| 241. | 7.8 | Brief Encounter (1945) | 3,000 |
| 242. | 7.8 | Sullivan's Travels (1941) | 3,291 |
| 243. | 7.8 | Being John Malkovich (1999) | 59,620 |
| 244. | 7.8 | In the Heat of the Night (1967) | 7,578 |
| 245. | 7.8 | Scarface (1983) | 33,463 |
| 246. | 7.8 | The Thin Man (1934) | 5,388 |
| 247. | 7.8 | Spider-Man 2 (2004) | 48,069 |
| 248. | 7.8 | Diarios de motocicleta (2004) | 11,730 |
| 249. | 7.8 | Ray (2004/I) | 14,161 |
| 250. | 7.8 | The 39 Steps (1935) |
i'm going to see a movie a day from now on, if i can. on sunday, i saw the movie blue starring binoche and returned part two of schindler's list because netflix never sent part one. while i'm waiting for get carter starring michael caine, i think i'll go see jarmusch's broken flowers tomorrow night.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)