The 100 Best Movies You've Never Seen

by Richard Crouse

  EMMA'S SHADOW (Skyggen at Emma) (1988)

  “It must be terrible to lose your most precious possession.”

  — Emma's mother on hearing of the Lindberg baby kidnapping

  This Dutch film is the kind of thing that is becoming harder and harder to find — a movie that the whole family can enjoy. Set in the 1930s, the story revolves around 11-year-old Emma (Line Kruse), the only child of wealthy Danish parents. Her father is a businessman who has very little time for his daughter, while the mother is self-centered and barely acknowledges her offspring. When little Emma overhears a conversation about the Lindbergh baby kidnapping she hatches a plot to earn some attention from her parents — she stages her own abduction and runs away.

  While her chauffeur is distracted, Emma bolts, disappearing into a poor section of Copenhagen. She meets a crude but kind sewer worker, Malthe (Borje Ahlstedt), an ex-convict who agrees to hide her after she tells him a ridiculous story about how she is on the run from Russian Bolsheviks who shot her nanny. “Actually, they shot my whole family,” she fibs. She concocts a scheme to squeeze money out of her parents, who believe that they are paying evil kidnappers. Instead Emma uses the money to improve her and Malthe's living situation, getting a room and decent food for her gullible new friend and two young neighborhood boys.

  The dirty sewer worker and the upper class little girl form a bond based on respect — a new experience for both of them. Emma teaches Malthe about self-assertiveness, while he showers her with affection. Tension mounts as the simple-minded Malthe mistakes the detectives who are searching for Emma for Bolsheviks. The final, wordless scene is a triumph of emotion without slipping into manipulative sentiment.

  At the soul of the film is Line Kruse's wonderfully intelligent performance as Emma. Her loyalty to Malthe tugs at the heartstrings because their brief relationship contains more love than her parents could muster in a whole lifetime. Veteran actor Ahlstedt, best known as the uncle from Fanny and Alexander, is masterfully understated as the slow-witted Malthe, a man who is capable of much more than the hand life has dealt him.

  Emma's Shadow was an international critical success, earning a Bodil Award — the Danish Oscar — for Best Film in 1989, and a Best Actress award for Kruse and a Special Jury Prize at the 1989 Paris Film Festival. Presented in Danish with English subtitles.

  THE EXPERIMENT (2002)

  “It's about role-playing in a prison-like situation. You'll be randomly divided into groups of guards and prisoners. If you take part in the experiment as a prisoner, you'll be required to give up your private life and your rights as a citizen.”

  — Dr. Jutta Grimm (Andrea Sawatzki)

  This German film is based on Black Box, a novel by Mario Giordano, which drew on the famous Stanford Prison Experiment for inspiration. In 1971 the university began a planned two-week experiment into the psychology of prison life by dividing a group of students into prisoners and guards. The whole thing had to be scuttled after only six days when the guards became sadistic and the prisoners showed signs of extreme depression and anxiety.

  Director Oliver Hirschbiegel effectively translates the psychological horror of the experiment, skillfully peeling away the layers of acceptable behavior until the grisly third act of the film. “Every good story tells us something about people,” says the director. “In all my films, it's been important that in the development of the characters, people go through learning processes and apply what they've learned and that they're in a situation that forces them to take a stand. This is required of many of the people in the novel.”

  A study in what happens when you strip away the power from one group and give it to another, The Experiment casts stereotypes — the rebel, the submissive, and the sadist — in easily definable roles. It's no surprise that Tarek Fahed, Prisoner Number 77 (Moritz Bleibtreu, the Tom Cruise of Germany) is the rebel: he has the look of a troublemaker. What is surprising is the idea that by simply changing their clothes to shapeless prison smocks or dark blue guard uniforms you can change the personality of the characters. The prisoners' dress-like smocks strip away their masculinity, making them subservient to the sharply dressed authority figures.

  The Experiment packs many ideas into its 114-minute running time, and by the end you'll be questioning the nature of all relationships, not just institutionalized ones. German with English subtitles.

  RICHARD'S FAVORITE CAMEOS BY DIRECTORS

  1. Alfred Hitchcock is the granddaddy of the self-cast cameo, popping up in no less than 34 of his films, beginning with The Lodger in 1927. His best moment occurs in the airport scene in 1969's Topaz. We see him moving through the airport in a wheelchair, when he suddenly stops, gets up, and walks away.

  2. M. Night Shyamalan can be seen in 2000's Unbreakable as a football fan, and plays a doctor in The Sixth Sense. He promoted himself to main character status in 2002's The Signs.

  3. Does the disgruntled Wonderland theme park worker in Beverly Hills Cop III look familiar? He should — it's Star Wars creator George Lucas.

  4. In 1980's Raging Bull director Martin Scorsese is visible as a stagehand, and can be heard (but not seen) as the voice of a dispatcher in 1999's Bringing Out the Dead.

  5. Steven Spielberg has never appeared in one of his own movies, but made his film debut as the Cook County Clerk in The Blues Brothers.

  6. Frances Ford Coppola briefly plays the director of a television crew in Apocalypse Now.

  7. John Landis frequently turns up in his own movies, but also was a doctor in Sam Raimi's film Darkman.

  8. Barry Levinson makes a cameo in Rain Man, playing a doctor.

  9. Roman Polanski cast himself as the man who slices Jack Nicholson's nose with a knife in 1974's Chinatown.

  10. In 1991 Jonathan Demme gave his old boss Roger Corman a small role as an fbi agent in Silence of the Lambs.

  A FACE IN THE CROWD (1957)

  “I put my whole self into everything I do.”

  — Lonesome Rhodes (Andy Griffith)

  Three years before he would charm television audiences with his gentle portrayal of corn-pone sheriff Andy Taylor, Andy Griffith made his big-screen debut in a very different kind of role. Although he had no training as an actor, he had earned a reputation as a stand-up comedian, and was nominated for a Tony award for his role in the Broadway comedy hit No Time for Sergeants. Elia Kazan, the director of such hard-hitting dramas as A Streetcar Named Desire (1951), Viva Zapata! (1952), Man on a Tightrope (1953), On the Waterfront (1954), and East of Eden (1955), saw something in Griffith that made him the perfect choice to head up A Face in the Crowd, a brutal indictment of television.

  Lonesome Rhodes was a role that required Griffith to put aside his likeable persona and become a ruthless egomaniac. “In the character of Lonesome Rhodes I wanted to show the ambivalence in someone who was almost evil, but who said and believed many things that were right at the same time,” said Kazan. “I wanted him to be seductive and say out loud things that other people didn't.” Allegedly inspired by the spectacular rise to fame of Arthur Godfrey, A Face in the Crowd tells the story of Lonesome Rhodes (Griffith), a philosophical country and western singer discovered in a small town drunk tank by radio reporter Marcia Jeffries (Patricia Neal). In Rhodes, she sees a good human interest story. In Jeffries' microphone, Rhodes sees a possible meal ticket. Soon his songs, homespun stories, and country wisdom land him a television spot and instant celebrity. His aw-shucks on-stage personality make him a modern day Will Rogers, attracting millions of fans and dozens of endorsements. Although loved by his public, off-stage Lonesome isn't so loveable. As his fame grows, so do his political aspirations, turning him into a power-hungry schemer, who discards people who get in his way. Morally corrupt, it seems that there is no stopping his megalomania, until Marcia engineers his comeuppance.

  The pre-Mayberry Griffith is remarkable as the Machiavellian television host, displaying an acting range — from pathetic to frightening — that he would never again draw upon in his long care
er. Many familiar faces turn up in supporting roles. Lee Remick makes a strong debut as Lonesome's baton-twirling child bride. As the socially-conscious writer Mel Miller, Walter Matthau becomes the movie's voice of reason, lecturing Rhodes on the evil of his ways. Patricia Neal makes the best of On the Waterfront writer Budd Schulberg's stinging script, giving a touching, layered performance.

  Despite a good cast and a compelling story, A Face in the Crowd didn't do well in the theaters. Audiences, relatively new to the medium of television, weren't ready for a harsh exposé of their small-screen idols. Viewed through today's eyes, however, the movie's message of never accepting anyone at face value is as timely today as it was in 1957.

  THE 5000 FINGERS OF DR. T (1953)

  “We should always believe children.

  We should even believe their lies.”

  — August Zabladowski (Peter Lind Hayes)

  This sadly neglected gem sprang from the delightfully twisted mind of Theodore Geisel (a.k.a. Dr. Seuss) in 1953. During his long and distinguished career he wrote 44 books, created several classic television specials, and won three Academy Awards for writing short wartime documentaries, but The 5000 Fingers of Dr. T is the only feature film Dr. Seuss was ever directly involved in.

  Set in suburban America, the fanciful story begins with young Bart Collins (Tommy Rettig — remember him from Lassie?) asleep at the piano. His dreams take us to a castle ruled by an evil piano teacher, the peculiar Dr. Terwilliker (Hans Conried), who is hatching a nefarious plot to establish his “Happy Fingers Method” of teaching piano as the best in the world. To this end, the evil Dr. T has banished all other instruments to the dungeon and enslaved 500 boys (with their 5000 nimble fingers) to perform in unison on a colossal piano. It is his wicked plan to make them rehearse “24 hours a day until they are perfect.”

  Shot in Technicolor, The 5000 Fingers of Dr. T features mind-blowing production design — huge colorful sets dominate the dream sequences, while the Dali-esque dungeon for non-piano-playing musicians is a frenetic set piece that clearly shows Seuss's influence.

  This kid's movie didn't do much business in its first run, but it found another, unexpected life when it was rereleased in the '60s as Crazy Music and was embraced by hippies who better understood the stream of consciousness storyline and psychedelic undertones. Fans of The Simpsons will note some similarities — the television show's adolescent hero is named Bart and his sworn enemy is Robert “Sideshow Bob” Terwilliger. Coincidence? I think not.

  FOREIGN CORRESPONDENT (1940)

  “I came 4,000 miles to get a story. I get shot at like a duck in a shooting gallery, I get pushed off buildings, I get the story, and then I've got to shut up!”

  — Johnny Jones (Joel McCrea)

  Alfred Hitchcock's name has become synonymous with suspense, his famous pudgy profile a screen icon almost as recognizable as that of Mickey Mouse. He began making films in Britain in 1920, first working as a title-card illustrator on a dozen films before working his way through the ranks as an art director, assistant director, editor, writer, and director. As early as 1926 he was a name director in Europe, and had begun his lifelong habit of making a cameo appearance in his films.

  In 1939, with a string of hits under his belt, he answered Hollywood's beckoning call, winning respect and an Academy Award for Best Picture with Rebecca, his first American film. Next up was Foreign Correspon-dent, a story of global intrigue that was nominated but failed to win any Academy gold. It's one of the lesser-known films on Hitchcock's resumé, but ranks with the best of his British work.

  Set in Europe in 1939 just before the outbreak of World War II, the story involves Johnny Jones (Joel McCrea), a hard-nosed but inexperienced crime reporter who witnesses a fake political assassination on a rainy Amsterdam street and becomes embroiled in an international spy ring. Billed at the time as the “Thrill Spectacle of the Year,” Foreign Correspondent still packs a wallop, and Hitchcock's visual flair is abundantly clear in several set pieces that are pure eye candy. In the aftermath of the assassination Jones trails the shooter through the streets, pushing his way through a sea of bobbing black umbrellas in a suspenseful dance that is both eye-catching and intense. Brian De Palma was so taken with the shot he recreated it in 1990's Bonfire of the Vanities for a scene where the main character Sherman fights his way through a group of savage reporters.

  Foreign Correspondent's best sequence takes place during a trans-Atlantic flight on a plane that is about to crash. Hitchcock shoots the scene over the shoulders of the pilots as the plane plummets towards the water. On impact, water floods the cockpit as passengers tussle to escape the sinking aircraft. Only six survive, finding refuge on the plane's wing. Hitchcock is pitch perfect in this scene, building incredible suspense amid the terror of the inevitable destruction of the airplane. It is snippets of film like this that explain what the director meant when he flippantly said, “I enjoy playing the audience like a piano.” He toys with the viewer in this scene, delaying the expected collision until the audience is literally on the edge of their seats wondering who will survive and who will perish.

  Even at this early juncture in his career Hitchcock was making films that pleased audiences and stand the test of time. Foreign Correspondent came out in 1940, the same year as Rebecca, and the two films earned a combined 17 Academy Award nominations (six for Foreign Correspondent, 11 for Rebecca). While Rebecca has gone on to become a classic, Foreign Correspondent has been largely forgotten. It's a shame; this is classic Hitchcock with fine performances from George Sanders in a heroic role, and a nominated turn from German actor Albert Basserman, who spoke no English and learned his lines phonetically.

  FRAILTY (2001)

  “Only demons should fear me, and you're not a demon . . . are you?”

  — Dad (Bill Paxton)

  This is a hatchet job. Literally.

  Bill Paxton, in his feature film directorial debut, presents an eerie story involving would-be demons, religious fanaticism, fatherly love, and ax-wielding serial killers. “I really saw this as a neo-classical piece,” Paxton said, “and a lot of people in Hollywood recognized that it was a great piece of work, but they wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. I thought the way to do it was to imply it, not to show it, like Alfred Hitchcock or Robert Aldrich. We've become such a society of exploitation that we're desensitized to violence. But the mind's eye, and that which is implied, is so much more powerful than explicit gore.”

  Paxton and screenwriter Brent Hanley crafted Frailty to disturb without the use of gore and keep you guessing right until the end. “I looked at a lot of Hitchcock films when I wrote Frailty,” says Hanley. “I watched Night of the Hunter and listened to music by Leonard Cohen. Frailty even references the Bible, offering a modern take on the story of Isaac and elements of the Old Testament.”

  Here's the outline: Suffice to say life is turned upside down for a single parent family when Dad (Paxton) makes it known to his two sons (Matthew O'Leary and Jeremy Sumpter) that he's on a mission from God to kill demons. “Killing people is wrong,” Dad says. “Destroying demons is good.” It wouldn't be fair to give away any more plot details — thrillers rely on the element of surprise — but be assured, there are more twists and turns here than on any winding mountain road.

  Texas native Matthew McConaughey turns in his strongest performance in years as the narrator. “I really enjoyed this story,” he said. “It is a classic Gothic horror picture and I enjoyed trying something a bit darker. Frailty is my brand of scary in that it is a very human story about someone taking something literally, and doing something for the sake of righteousness, and that's an interesting part of the human mind.” Both McConaughey and Powers Booth (as the fbi agent who listens to McConaughey's story) shine, but it is Paxton as the well meaning but insane father who really impresses. His “everyman” approach to the character is chilling, displaying the ordinariness of evil; the kind of evil that could live next door to you or me. “Today, if someone says ‘God spoke to
me,' we think they're crazy,” says producer David Kirschner. “Yet, the Old Testament is based on God's conversations with Moses. We want to believe it happened then, but we can't accept that it might happen today. That's what is so fascinating about Frailty. It suggests that the impossible is possible.”

  FUBAR (2002)

  “Turn up the good! Turn down the suck!”

  — Dean Murdoch (Paul Spence)

  You probably went to school with some of them. Or maybe when you see them on the street, you cross to the other side. They are headbangers, also known affectionately as bangers. You know the type: long greasy hair with heavy metal t-shirts, who can usually be seen shot-gunning beer and yelling “Just give'r!” at the top of their lungs.

  Fubar is a fabulous über-low-budget mockumentary about two bangers, Dean (Paul Spence) and Terry (David Lawrence), who live in Calgary — think Bob and Doug McKenzie with electric guitars. To paraphrase kiss, these dudes want to rock and roll all night and party every day. “We're not making fun of bangers,” says director Michael Dowse. “I'm actually in awe of them. This is a celebration of the banger. I was never really a banger because I was a couple of years behind the big metal thing.”

  “After high school I worked up on the pipeline for six months as a welder's helper. I really absorbed these guys from day to day,” adds Lawrence. Lawrence used his experiences to write some of the more colorful language in the film, including the classic banger term, “just give'r.” These guys are easy targets for ridicule, but Dowse doesn't go for the easy jokes. Instead he lets us get involved with the characters and get to like them before dropping a bombshell about one of them, one of the several unexpected turns that Fubar takes.