6. Tokyo Story (1959) -
Director: Yasujiro Ozu
In 2005 Ebert wrote a piece on his blog called Ozu: The Masterpieces Youve Missed. He was a great admirer of the Japanese director, more so that the better-known Kurosawa. Ebert called Tokyo Story one of the greatest films of all time.
Its a simple story of a Japanese family: grandparents visit grandchildren, things go wrong, the grandmother dies and the kids then must make a journey for her. Does anyone go to a movie to watch the style? Well, yes. An elegantly refined style like Ozu's places people in the foreground; he focuses on the nuances of everyday life. His is the most humanistic of styles, removing the machinery of effects and editing and choosing to touch us with human feeling, not workshop storytelling technique.
5. The Tree of Life (2011) -
Director: Terrence Malick
I don't know when a film has connected more immediately with my own personal experience. In uncanny ways, the central events of The Tree of Life reflect a time and place I lived in, and the boys in it are me.
4. Vertigo (1958) -
Director: Alfred Hitchcock
Vertigo, which is one of the two or three best films Hitchcock ever made, is the most confessional, dealing directly with the themes that controlled his art. It is *about* how Hitchcock used, feared and tried to control women. Ebert replaced Alfred Hitchcocks Notorious on his favorites list with Vertigo after going through both films shot by shot, deciding that the latter was the better of two near perfect films.
3. North (1994) - 0 Stars
Director: Rob Reiner
I hated this movie. Hated hated hated hated hated this movie. Hated it. Hated every simpering stupid vacant audience-insulting moment of it. Hated the sensibility that thought anyone would like it. Hated the implied insult to the audience by its belief that anyone would be entertained by it.
2. To The Wonder (2013) -
Director: Terrence Malick
This review is included here for two reasons. The first is that it was the last film review Roger Ebert filed with the Chicago Sun Times before his death on April 4th. That in and of itself is important in that it capped the career of one of our best known and most-loved movie critics. It was a final missive, published after his death, to the film lovers who, like Ebert, lived a secret life in the darkness of a movie theater. More importantly, however, in his review of To the Wonder, Ebert asked some very deep questions about film and the film-going experience. Its a beautiful piece of writing. Why must a film explain everything? Why must every motivation be spelled out? Aren't many films fundamentally the same film, with only the specifics changed? Aren't many of them telling the same story? Seeking perfection, we see what our dreams and hopes might look like. We realize they come as a gift through no power of our own, and if we lose them, isn't that almost worse than never having had them in the first place?