Tom Cruise top 10: In defense of a 'crazy' actor

Tom Cruise

Almost 10 years ago if became sort of acceptable to call Tom Cruise crazy. He was lecturing Matt Lauer about postpartum depression, he was leaping off couches and he was becoming more and more comfortably spouting off his controversial Scientologist beliefs.

I like him as an actor, but I too joined the chorus of people who couldn't stand Tom Cruise 2.0. Prior to the Katie Holmes era, part of his appeal was his fierce protection of his private life. We all heard the gay rumors but we didn't care -- we just enjoyed his work as a slightly unlikely mainstream movie star.

Here was a diminutive, seemingly ageless ball of energy who, while exuding almost no sexual chemistry with anyone, was totally compelling in any number of genres and distinguished himself by playing every role to the hilt.

Say what you will about Tom Cruise, I don't recall ever seeing him give a "lazy" performance. And yet, his personal life "eccentricities" have compromised his appeal, I don't think there's any doubt about that. The stories about him allegedly interviewing potential girlfriends/wives are certainly distracting and cast his career in a different light.

Much has been made about his predilection for picking roles where he is somehow deformed or masked, and his increasing identification with the sci-fi genre (starting with Minority Report and leading to next month's Edge of Tomorrow) has also raised eyebrows.

I frequently grapple with artist vs. individual debates -- whether it be Roman Polanski or Mel Gibson -- and for the most part I always agree with the argument that a person's creative work should be put ahead of their individual flaws. Still, when those outside forces become so overwhelming that you can no longer accept that performer as anything but themselves (which for me is the case with Gibson), then you have a problem.

Cruise for me is a curious case. Every time I think he's finished he surprises me with a return to form. I'm not sure Edge of Tomorrow is that comeback vehicle. It's getting good reviews, but it also looks so derivative of so many recent sci-fi films that I expect it will flop. But I wouldn't count Tom Cruise out just yet. He's actually still pretty dependable at the box office and has remained remarkably fit and appealing into his 50s.

He's not one of my favorite actors, and I wouldn't go so far as to say I am a fan. But I do appreciate him and I have really enjoyed, even loved some of the movies he's made. Here are my top 10:

10) The Firm (1993) - As I've written before, this is not a very plausible movie, but it's a fun one. This was Tom Cruise at the peak of his heartthrob movie star prowess and he's a sympathetic hero in this mainstream thriller about a sinister law firm. A tailor-made vehicle for his cocksure charms.

9) Mission: Impossible III (2006) - The most underrated of the Ethan Hunt spy films had some really inventive set pieces thanks to the distinct visual style of J.J. Abrams. Cruise gets strong support from one of the series' best villains -- played by the late Phillip Seymour Hoffman -- and he has more emotional scenes to play for the first time thanks to a subplot involving his tentative attempts to forge a personal life.

8) Tropic Thunder (2008) - Sure, Cruise's role as a the bald, fat and foul-mouthed movie exec Les Grossman was obvious stunt casting -- but it worked! Cruise was as hilarious as he has ever been (and probably ever will be) and he clearly relished playing someone so unapologetically nasty. I thought this was one of the great comedies of the decade and his performance was a big part of that.

Tom Cruise in Risky Business

7) Risky Business (1983) - Before he started giving more histrionic and mannered performances in movies like Jerry Maguire, Cruise was a very relatable and believable young actor. He was probably never more likable than he was in this breakout hit, playing a lonely, horny teen who gets unintentionally sucked into the prostitution business. A smart and sophisticated comedy that holds up better than some of its '80s peers.

6) Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011) - What a breath of fresh air this movie was. It was something of a throwback (real stunts, instead of CGI!) and it somehow made Cruise and his signature franchise seem fresh and new despite being its fourth installment. His incredible performance scaling the Buri Khalifa tower in Dubai (the world's tallest building), should be one of the most iconic moments of his career.

5) Rain Man (1988) - Dustin Hoffman's committed method performance as an autistic savant won most of the praise and attention, but his role doesn't work without Tom Cruise's harried and increasingly more humane part of his younger brother. This blockbuster road movie would be hard to make today, it has no pyrotechnics or superheroes. It's just a beautiful tribute to the bond that brothers share.

4) The Color of Money (1986) - Martin Scorsese cast Cruise perfectly as an obnoxious jerk who grows into a clever hustler under the tutelage of a pool-playing legend played by Paul Newman (in an Oscar-winning role). This underrated sequel to The Hustler is visually dynamic but its the characters that drive the story and Cruise's stubborn, strutting Vince is an unforgettable creation.

3) Mission: Impossible (1996) - Cruise's breakthrough as an action star is still a classic. I am partial to the first Ethan Hunt film because I am a huge Brain De Palma fan and the break-in at the CIA headquarters is one of his greatest sequences. But I also really like Cruise's resourceful and sometimes playful performance in the lead role. He's an enormously gifted physical actor and those skills were put to best use in this film.

2) Magnolia (1999) - He scored an Oscar nomination (and probably should have won) for his lively and uncharacteristically personal performance as a deeply wounded self-help guru who promotes a kind of misogynistic philosophy in front of adoring male crowds. Cruise is just one part of a sprawling opus from P.T. Anderson, but his energy shines through and haunts you long after the credits have rolled. He's never been this exposed in a movie before or since.

1) Eyes Wide Shut (1999) - Although it was somewhat reviled when it was first released, this stunning exploration of marriage and fidelity has, like all Stanley Kubrick films, only grown in stature over the years. Finally recognized for the masterpiece that it is, this existential drama brilliantly utilized Cruise's strengths as an actor and plumbed his complex public persona for deeper meaning. Probably the one film in his oeuvre that will be fussed over for generations to come.

'Street Smart': Fabulous Freeman performance in flawed film

Christopher Reeve and Morgan Freeman in Street Smart

You've never seen Morgan Freeman like this.

His breakout role in the 1987 film Street Smart, where he plays one of his only villain roles is a real marvel to behold.

Unfortunately his performance as the temperamental pimp "Fast Black" is wasted in a mediocre movie.

It didn't have to be this way. The premise of the film is fantastic: an ambitious journalist (played by the late Christopher Reeve) manufactures a story about a New York City pimp to impress his editor and it's a huge success.

Meanwhile a real pimp (Freeman) is facing criminal charges for murder. His lawyer realizes that he can pose as the reporter's subject and use the print story for an alibi. The journalist, who's career is riding high following the article's breakthrough success, initially agrees to go along with the ruse, until the pimp's violent lifestyle starts to rub him the wrong way.

That all sounds riveting and it should be but the film makes so many clumsy mistakes that it squanders almost everything it has going for it.

For one thing, the filmmakers pad out the film with a totally absurd and unrealistic subplot of Reeve's character using the article to spark a TV reporting career.

Instead of focusing on the most interesting relationship in the film (that of the writer and the pimp), the movie wastes a lot of time trying to either satirize or earnestly portray the life of a journalist (it's never quite clear).

Reeve was a capable actor, the Superman movies proved that, but in this film he is wooden and implausible. This is more the writing's fault than his, but only he can be blamed for the listless way he plays a scene where he admits to his live-in girlfriend that he's slept with a prostitute.

Freeman, on the other hand, is the reason to see this movie. Age and blockbusters have softened his image and made him something akin to America's favorite cuddly older black man. But in Street Smart he is fierce and frightening. His character has a real authenticity about him. He has both swagger and a short fuse. Instead of using his legendary smooth voice to soothe, Freeman uses it to intimidate.

I will never forget the scene where he terrorizes one of his harem with a pair of scissors, asking her to pick which eye he should gouge out. This is a brilliant performance, one which scored him an Oscar nomination, but the movie lets him down with its conventional film-making and sophomoric "happy" ending.

If there was ever a film that was ripe for a remake it would be this one. It could be done with far more subtlety, wit and intelligence. But considering that the movie did little business, despite raves for Freeman's role, it probably never will be.

Still, it's worth watching to see a totally different side of Freeman's range than we're accustomed to.

'Medium Cool': 1969 masterpiece is stunning portrait of an era

Medium Cool

I first saw Haskel Wexler's seminal 1969 masterpiece Medium Cool in a high school film class taught by an aging hippie with a grey pony tail.

Most of my peers and I knew the film's star, Robert Forster, from his Oscar-nominated role in Quentin Tarantino's Jackie Brown and the police riot during the 1968 Democratic convention in Chicago (which provides the backdrop for the film) was definitely not on our radar.

The movie definitely made an impression on me then, although I didn't fully appreciate how daring and conceptually brilliant it was when I was a teenager.

Now that I am better informed -- on film and history -- I can see Medium Cool for what it is, one of the great films of the 1960s, which along with better known landmarks like Bonnie & Clyde helped usher in the great film-making boom of the 1970s.

It's a film about media and television when both entities were modernizing in new and frightening ways. You would think this dates the film, but the points being made by the characters on-screen actually resonate perfectly with today's climate.

It uses a thin, but touching plot about a TV cameraman who engages in a tentative romance with a poor single mother, raising a young boy in Chicago's slums to tell a larger story about the tensions between black and white, the impoverished and the more affluent, and the hip and the square.

Wexler was somehow able to get real footage of Chicago police doing drills with costumed fake protesters in preparation for a clash later in the week. In another stirring sequence, he captures the best summation of black paranoia about white people (and vice versa) that I may have ever seen in a movie.

Robert Forster in Medium Cool

I have no idea how this movie performed commercially -- I can't even believe it was ever made or got released by a major studio (Paramount Pictures). But of course the late '60s and early '70s was a very radical time in Hollywood.

Medium Cool is an overtly progressive movie, but also a cynical one. Whenever it seems to meander into maudlin territory something dark and unexpected happens that is genuinely surprising.

For instance, in one of my favorite scenes, Forster and the luminous Verna Bloom watch footage of Martin Luther King Jr.'s legendary "Mountaintop" speech (the last one he ever gave).

We never see it, we only hear it but MLK's soaring voice still retains all its power. For a while the two characters/actors listen intently and we assume reverently. Suddenly, Forster says "I love shooting film." Such a great line and a really telling moment in a movie that's full of them: the cameraman is a dispassionate observer, a mere extension of the machine he operates.

Yet Forster's character is both a critic and participant in the burgeoning multimedia apparatus. He longs to report on intriguing real-life stories (such as a black cabbie who is chastised after returning $10,000 he finds in his car) but in the first scene in the movie he can be seen callously filming a car wreck before calling for help.

This movie really affected me because I had just come from a visit to the MLK center in Atlanta, had just finished reading the book Subversives (which explores FBI and conservative suppression of dissent on the Berkeley campus in the'60s) and recently watched the legendary film Z, which also uses real-life events to infuse its narrative about an assassination plot in Greece.

These all are works that are really attempting to say something and stir an activist spirit within their viewers, something you almost never seen in mainstream movies anymore. The closet I feel like we've come was 2004's polemic Fahrenheit 9/11, directed by Michael Moore. That was a movie that really aggressively tried to serve as a call to action.

Medium Cool isn't quite as earnest and its uncompromisingly twisted ending suggests a less-than-optimistic outlook on the American condition, yet its boundless creativity and unpredictable rhythms kept me entranced and inspired.

Order in the court! My favorite legal films of all time

Henry Fonda in 12 Angry Men

This column is being written at the behest of my darling girlfriend -- who is an attorney herself and has regularly asked me to write something about my favorite "legal" films. I should preface this list by saying that generally I don't tend to like the genre.

Much in the same way that most sports movies inevitably lead to the "big game" in their final act, most films about lawyers end up being about the courtroom hysterics which are usually visually stale and dramatically inert.

And sorry, but I've never been a Law & Order fanatic, it always sort of bored me.

And while these kinds of movies often provide great opportunities for actors to ham it up -- they can be pretty forgettable sometimes.

That said, I can appreciate a great drama/story when I see one. Here are a few of the legal movies I love:

Presumed Innocent (1990): Harrison Ford is compelling in this slick and twisty film about a high powered attorney accused of killing a colleague that he had an affair with. It's shocking now to see a film with no chases or fight scenes contain this much tension. The first rate acting keeps you riveted and the legal intrigue is engrossing.

12 Angry Men (1957): This film deserves its reputation as one of the great dramas of its day. Henry Fonda anchors a stellar cast of men sweating it out in a jury room. He plays one lone juror who questions the guilt of the accused and he spends the entire film trying to bring the other men to his side. An original and brilliantly shot film (Sidney Lumet's breakthrough). Earnest and inspiring.

Michael Clayton

Michael Clayton (2007): This one is a bit of a cheat since none of the action takes place in courtrooms, it's all behind the scenes machinations. But I think it's worthy since its story revolves around attorneys who are both compromised and playing with fire. George Clooney gives one of his best performances in this totally modern and believable thriller.

Inherit the Wind (1960): Just recently discovered this incredibly prescient and incisive drama which recreates the infamous Scopes trial over the right to teach evolution. This movie could probably never get made today which only increases its power. Spencer Tracy gives one of his greatest performances as the lawyer taking the unpopular position on the side of science.

To Kill a Mockingbird (1962): Perfect adaptation of the best-selling book is pretty much everyone's favorite courtroom drama at this point, even though the narrative is about more than just Atticus Finch's heroics on behalf of a black defendant. Still, Peck's performance as Finch has become something of an American ideal of what we wish lawyers were like.

Primal Fear (1996): Richard Gere and Edward Nortion make for a dynamic duo in this entertaining potboiler. Gere is terrific as a cocky star defense attorney who thinks he's one step ahead of everyone and Norton is his equal as a young killer who actually is. The ending of this film really makes everything that came before it so much better. An underrated gem.

Runaway Jury (2003): One of the better adaptations of John Grisham's work though it has been largely unseen. John Cusack leads an all-star cast in a film that gives us a glimpse of the other side of the process -- jury selection. And in addition to its typical thrills, it includes the one and only time Dustin Hoffman and Gene Hackman have squared off in a movie.

The Firm (1993): If you can just buy into the ridiculous premise (a literal killer law firm), this is a very smart and enjoyable thriller featuring Tom Cruise at his mainstream movie star best. Sidney Pollack is such an excellent director he actually makes Wilford Brimley seem like a credible and scary villain. It's a real popcorn movie that has its slow points but delivers when you want it to (if unrealistically).

Erin Brockovich (2000): It's become very hip to hate on this film and Julia Roberts' Oscar winning performance because, well, people hate Julia Roberts. But she really is fantastic in this film and Steven Soderbergh tapped into qualities in her that I've never seen before or since. It helps that she's surrounded by a top-notch cast (which includes Albert Finney) in this true story of paralegal who helps win a historic class action suit.

The Verdict (1982): Another Sidney Lumet classic and quite possibly the greatest film ever made about lawyers. Paul Newman is incredible as a boozing ambulance chaser who sees a medical negligence case as his one shot at redemption. Stirring and deeply moving at times, this movie really draws you in, so much so that you're hanging on every scene and word.

There are still quite a few courtroom classics I either need to revisit (...And Justice for All) or see for the first time (Judgment at Nuremberg), so there may yet be more titles that I would theoretically add to this list. But for now this is my final ruling.

Dismissed!

My top 10 favorite Coen brothers movies

The Big Lebowski

This weekend I did some revisits with the work of the legendary directing duo -- the Coen brothers. For years they were beloved darlings of film snobs but following some breakout hits in the last decade, the mainstream has grown hip to their style and charms.

I have not loved all of their films. In fact some of their most acclaimed work is a tad overrated in my mind (here's looking at you Inside Llewyn Davis).

Still, all of their movies are interesting. Visually, all their films are astounding. And they're usually pretty funny, incredibly well-written and filled with top-notch performances from both movie stars and established character actors.

I make a point to see all their films when they come out because I know that no matter what I'm in store for a wholly original experience.

By my count they've only made 16 films since their major motion picture debut exactly thirty years ago (1984's Blood Simple). So it wasn't incredibly hard to narrow their filmography down to my 10 favorites.

10) Barton Fink (1991) - A little mannered and self conscious, but still a very intriguing exploration of the challenges writers face, with a dash of Hollywood studio satire thrown in. The picture works best for me because of Coen movie MVP John Goodman, who gives an Oscar caliber performance as a seemingly genial man with a disturbing dark psyche.

9) Burn After Reading (2008) - This unfairly maligned spoof of the lack of intelligence in the D.C. intelligence community is divisive among Coen fans, but I loved it. The cast is hilarious fun -- with Brad Pitt and John Malcovich as particular standouts. And the use of cliched thriller music is a brilliant touch. This is one I enjoy more each time I see it.

8) True Grit (2010) - The Coens' biggest commercial hit is very accessible but also totally faithful to the classic novel it's based on. Jeff Bridges and Matt Damon are note perfect but the breakout performance comes from young Hailee Steinfeld, who brings, for a lack of a better word, grit to the role of a brave heroine seeking vengeance for her slain father. A wonderful western with modern style.

No Country for Old Men

7) Miller's Crossing (1988) - A badass, deadly serious gangster film that works for me a lot better than some of their other more high-minded projects. Gabriel Byrne has a timeless quality as the lead and the Coens also get great supporting work from John Turturro and Albert Finney. Striking to look at with plenty of panache. A landmark in the genre.

6) Raising Arizona (1987) - A delightfully madcap comedy from Nicolas Cage's early heyday. Wildly inventive and fast-paced as hell, it's shocking to me that this oddball gem wasn't more of a commercial success. Easily one of their most likable pictures, this goofy story about a couple (Cage and a terrific Holly Hunter) who kidnap a baby is a lot of unadulterated fun.

5) O Brother Where Art Thou? (2000) - Arguably the Coens' first real crossover hit, this beautiful looking fable showed that George Clooney could be a great comic lead and it also placed the Coens in an unfamiliar terrain with terrific results. The soundtrack is the stuff of legend but this take-off of The Odyssey has a lot more going for it. The scene where Clooney snaps at a shopkeeper who doesn't sell his signature hair gel is one of my favorite movie moments ever.

4) Blood Simple (1984) - The Coens' first movie is still one of their most effective. All the hallmarks of their filmmaking persona are on display here. A corker of a plot with a mixture of gallows humor and genuine thrills. Some of the creatively gory violence of No Country for Old Men is already on display here, as is dynamic camerawork. One of my all-time favorite Coen creations is M. Emmet Walsh's grotesque private eye.

Burn After Reading

3) Fargo (1996) - Just re-watched this masterpiece on Saturday. I was struck by many things. Although the film is just over 90 minutes, it feels appropriately epic. It's both endlessly charming and somehow also pathetically tragic. This true crime movie should have won best picture over the tiresome English Patient. The cast is incredible and so real -- from William H. Macy to Frances McDormand this is a master class in exceptional character work. .

2) No Country for Old Men (2007) - In my opinion, cinematic perfection. This the Coens working at the peak of their cinematic power, bringing Cormac McCarthy's stark, violent and existential thriller to life with intensity and power. I was so thrilled this uncompromising film won best picture and best director. A compelling meditation on violence
with one of the greatest villains of all time.

1) The Big Lebowski (1998) - I have a special place in my heart for this cult classic. It's probably not their greatest film -- but it's my favorite. I saw it for the first time while recuperating from wisdom teeth surgery. I was laughing so hard blood was oozing out of my mouth. I don't know what compelled the Coens to make an homage to detective films with a middle-aged stoner in the gumshoe role, but I will forever be grateful to them for it.

Robert Mitchum is the master of laconic cool

Robert Mitchum

My favorite classic movie stars are the ones who seem the most modern.

James Cagney is my favorite. I'm also a big Kirk Douglas fan. And lately I've come to appreciate the late Robert Mitchum more and more.

He was a huge star for several decades but he was always underrated and under-appreciated. Mitchum was iconic for his work in film noir but he had hits in almost every other genre.

What Mitchum understood is that his very look and presence spoke volumes.

He was laconic but not lazy. He knew that he had a kind of smoldering intensity that would come across without him needing to do all that much.

His power as an actor is arguably best on display in three seminal films from three very distinct periods in his career.

The first is 1947's Out of the Past, a breakthrough role for Mitchum which established his most enduring persona -- that of the world-weary tough guy with a mysterious past. The film is widely hailed as one of the hallmarks of the film noir genre and it has an edge that makes it feel more contemporary than many other movies from its era.

It's a romantic role for Mitchum, who with his distinct features and baritone voice got to play opposite the most beautiful female stars of his day. He plays a would-be gumshoe tasked with tracking down a woman who's run out on a particularly nasty thug (played by a dynamic Kirk Douglas in an early role). He ends up falling for the woman (played by Jane Greer), but she isn't who she seems.

In 1955, at the peak of his career, Mitchum took on his greatest role -- a total change of pace -- in the brilliant thriller The Night of the Hunter. Cast against type as a psychopathic preacher, Mitchum showed a range a lot of critics didn't know he had and he is incredibly scary as a killer disturbed by his own lustful thoughts. The film flopped when it first came out but now it holds up as one of the greatest movies of the decade.

The last film I'll mention is a 1970s crime film -- The Friends of Eddie Coyle. In this film Mitchum is a rugged, burnt out veteran guns dealer -- who runs afoul of the wrong people during the tail end of his career. Mitchum has a such a compelling way of delivering hard boiled dialogue. It comes out of Mitchum so naturally that he seems like just a real-life guy, not a movie star.

Mitchum never won an Oscar and never really had one signature role that defined his career. He just worked steadily and reliably from the 1940s until he died in 1997. Now he's become a favorite of modern filmmakers who appreciate his minimalist style and his masculine grace.

They don't make movie stars like him anymore.

In defense of the Ocean's trilogy: These heist films still hold up

George Clooney in Ocean's Eleven

I am a sucker for heist movies. I've always joked that if I weren't so terribly afraid of going to prison I would love to be a professional thief.

The Ocean's trilogy (2001-2007) tapped into the frizzy thrill of watching super-slick, smart hipsters pull a fast one over formidable foes, all while barely breaking a sweat.

These glossy confections showed off Steven Soderbergh's distinct and dynamic visual style (he shot all the movies himself, using the pseudonym Peter Andrews) and was the perfect showcase for George Clooney's charismatic movie star persona.

And yet as popular as the films were when they were first released, they are viewed as something of a guilty pleasure now, which I think is off-base. This may be somewhat due to the mixed reception to Ocean's Twelve -- the weakest of the trilogy but in my opinion wildly underrated. And the fact that its stars Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon (among others) -- have gone on to make far more prestigious, "important" films since.

But I've always enjoyed razzle-dazzle Hollywood larks, and during the Bush era there was no series of films that pulled off mainstream entertainment better than these impeccably crafted capers. They were witty and fast paced -- and yes, a little smug. But I liked watching these actors play together and bounce off each other's rhythms.

Clonney and Pitt in particular had fantastic chemistry (and seem to somehow get better looking with each film). I love the running gag where they speak to each other in unfinished sentences and/or in con man code that is known and understood only by them.

Clooney and Pitt in Ocean's Thirteen

The films were also a great vehicle for Matt Damon, who got to play the dweeb in the group. There are early shades of his self-involved character from The Departed in this series. I enjoy the Bourne movies for what they are, but I've always liked Damon more when he plays unlikable guys.

Soderbergh also cheekily revived the careers of legends like Elliot Gould and Carl Reiner, giving them showy parts in an unlikely ensemble which included the late Bernie Mac, Casey Affleck, Don Cheadle and Scott Caan.

He even gets winning work from Julia Roberts, who I don't hate, but who can often be over-the-top and shallow in a lot of her movies. Still, the women were never the focus of these movies which were as much about male bonding as they were about elaborate robberies.

The original was the most popular and is probably the strongest entry in the trilogy. I still remember when I saw it my sophomore year in college. It was such a frothy delight, both a throwback and modern at the same time. Ocean's Twelve took the characters and audiences out of their comfort zone and its finale -- while clever -- is not remotely as satisfying as the original's. But the soundtrack is to die for.

Ocean's Twelve

Ocean's Thirteen is often the most forgotten of the three films, even though it too was a hit. And I've felt for a long time that it is almost as good as the first film. With all do respect to Andy Garcia, the movie really ups the villain ante with a great turn from Al Pacino. And I like how the third film sort of brilliantly weaves all the things we liked from the first two into one last Vegas score.

The ending of the trilogy is actually kind of bittersweet since over three films we've really enjoyed watching these quirky comrades evade lasers, plunges down elevator shafts and more -- while sticking together as the best of friends, albeit ones who never quite stop kidding each other.

Clooney and Soderbergh have made no qualms about the fact that they made these purely commercial films in order to finance prestige projects like Solaris and Syriana -- and I say, more power to them.

I've enjoyed their dramas a lot, but on a night like tonight -- when I'm battling a sore throat and it's a muggy, rainy mess outside -- it's so much fun to curl up and watch the hijinks of Danny Ocean and the gang.

How I learned to stop worrying and love Sam Peckinpah

William Holden in The Wild Bunch

When I was younger I used to be binge on certain artists -- now I do it with film directors. Recently, I've gained a newfound appreciation for the brilliant Sam Peckinpah.

He's a controversial director -- largely because his films revel in unapologetic, violent machismo, but I think that's an unfair generalization of his greatness.

His films were shockingly brutal for their time, but now they're often rightfully viewed as ahead of their time and while the blood and body count is sometimes substantial, it pales in comparison to what we see on screens today.

In fact, his films would be considered conspicuously slow by the standards of modern filmgoers, which is, of course, quite sad.

Peckinpah, not unlike myself (and many of my favorite directors), was preoccupied with the nature of violence and obsessive men. In the few films he made he did carve out some strong roles for women, but his main interest was in the male psyche, which has alienated a lot of viewers at best and at worst left him open for widespread condemnation as a sexist. I can't argue that his films aren't hopelessly political incorrect, but they are also uniquely powerful -- and that's what draws me in.

I haven't even seen some of his most acclaimed masterpieces, there are various camps which continue to debate the value of some of his later efforts, but the few I have watched I've found astounding.

This is a man who takes his time to really tell a story and his films are filled with dread but also a rich gallows humor that I really appreciate. He gets great, evocative performances out of his actors whether they're major stars like William Holden, Steve McQueen or Dustin Hoffman or lesser known character actors like Warren Oates, who played an homage to Peckinpah in the director's Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia.

That movie is a classic, but I first became acquainted with Peckinpah's work in his best known film, the 1969 western The Wild Bunch. The movie is infamous for its spectacularly intense and gory finale, which rivals Bonnie & Clyde for its sheer audacity. But what's often lost in commentary about the film is that it's an incisive revisionist western where the "good guys" are actually terrible guys but you sort of love them anyway.

His next best known film is probably the 1971 thriller Straw Dogs. The movie is about a couple (played by Hoffman and an excellent Susan George) who spend the first two thirds of the film inflicting psychological violence on each other until outside forces lead them to commit physical acts of cruelty.

This film continues to stir debate and provoke emotions because of some disturbing questions about gender, sex, rape and human nature which is pretty impressive for a movie that came out over 40 years ago.

My other favorites of his include Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid, a project that was troubled and initially released in a version Peckinpah abhorred. The film has since been recut and resurrected, and its reputation has grown in recent years. This mournful and moody western about an aging sheriff (played by James Coburn) who is tasked with hunting down and killing his younger friend (played Kris Kristofferson) has an understated power that takes a few viewings to fully appreciate.

Steve McQueen and Ali McGraw in The Getaway

What a lot of Peckinpah's critics and the filmmakers who think they're emulating him often forget is that he never portrayed violence for the sake of violence. He was thoughtful both in his characterizations and with his use of action. Deaths have consequences and impact. You're meant to ponder whether the lives risked or taken was worth it and to feel a sense of regret.

Even his most commercial film, The Getaway (1972), has some complex ideas in it. Steve McQueen and Ali McGraw (who in real life hooked up on the film) play a couple of outlaws with some pretty dark dynamics between them.

For a mainstream studio movie it's remarkably edgy and dark, yet never less than fun to watch.

If I had to pick a favorite though, it might just be the aforementioned Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia, which may be one of the craziest films of my favorite movie decade: the 1970s.

Although Peckinpah was known to exaggerate, he was often quoted as saying that Alfredo Garcia was the one film of his that had no studio interference and turned out just as he intended. It's an oddly personal film about a loser with loose morals (played by Oates) who agrees to procure a gruesome bounty and loses his soul in the process.

Like a lot of Peckinpah's work, this film was largely reviled when it was first released -- and it's still not for everyone's tastes -- but I find it endlessly fascinating. It works as a subtle (ok not all that subtle) commentary on the darkness of the Watergate era. The film came out in 1974, the year Nixon would finally resign from office.

Peckinpah, who reviled Nixon, apparently wrote the president a letter to chew him out for pardoning the perpetrator of the My Lai massacre in Vietnam. I love that he was the kind of person who would want to let the president know personally how mad he was even if the commander-in-chief likely didn't give a damn.

So that't my take on Peckinpah. A hell of a director -- although he doesn't crack my personal favorite five (Scorsese, Kubrick, De Palma, Coppola and Tarantino) -- but he's rising in the ranks. Check out his stuff and expect a lot of gunfire.

'Persona' an unbelievable experience that I don't quite understand

Last night my girlfriend and I watched a gorgeous blu-ray edition of Ingmar Bergman's 1966 masterpiece Persona.

Normally, when we watch a film together we pause for bits of commentary and little asides but we mostly watched this audacious film in stunned silence.

I usually hate when I can't totally comprehend a film. Don't get me wrong, I like a movie that challenges me and leaves unanswered questions, but I don't like to be totally in the dark.

It makes me feel stupid. And I hate feeling stupid. That said, I do not totally understand Persona.

It's a movie that tantalizes you and almost explains itself, and then pulls the rug out from you over and over again. It definitely has a coherent plot, and it features phenomenal performances from its lead actresses (Bibi Andersson and Liv Ullman), but it is ultimately a mystery.

For the uninitiated, the film is largely a two-person piece. One is a stage actress (Ullman) who has either lost the ability to speak or, more likely, has chosen to stop communicating for some unknown reason. The other is a neurotic and verbose nurse played to perfection by Andersson. The nurse essentially is babysitting the actress at the vacation home of her superior during which time the two women bond, clash and seem to even switch identities.

If that wasn't fertile enough ground for a narrative, Bergman sneaks in all of these meta moments calling attention to that fact that you -- the audience -- are watching a film and are an active participant in what is taking place on screen. It's enough to make your head hurt, but in my case it made my heart swoon.

Liv Ullman in Persona

This is a beautiful and at times quite creepy film, one that haunts you long after its finished. It's not even 90 minutes long and yet it has more ideas than many films twice its length. It's my favorite kind of movie to feast on, precisely because there is so much to chew on.

The movie delves into sex, womanhood, motherhood, death, war, friendship and the nature of the self. The movie is aptly named because it's as much about the way we perceive ourselves as it is about the way we are perceived by others.

I first saw this film back when I was a film undergraduate student and I didn't "get it" then and in some ways, I don't "get it" now. But I love it because I'm going to keep on trying to "get it" for the rest of my life.

'The King of Comedy' is so ahead of its time it's scary

Martin Scorsese has always had mixed feelings about his 1983 satire of celebrity, The King of Comedy, but I don't -- it's a bonafide masterpiece.

It was a flop when it came out and was not exactly beloved by critics but it has only grown in stature in the 30 years since its release, in part because it predicted the "reality" celebrity culture which has come to dominate the television and tabloid media.

The movie is at turns uproariously funny and painfully uncomfortable to watch.

It's about Rupert Pupkin -- an incredibly unlikable and obnoxious wannabe comedian with no discernible talent but plenty of hubris.

The Pupkin role provides Robert De Niro with one of his all-time greatest roles, which he plays with a relentlessness that is incredible to behold. He makes no attempts to make Pupkin sympathetic or to justify his megalomania, he simply is a product of the irrational segment of society which seems to think they are entitled to fame because they have endured lives that are so unspectacular.

Pupkin (and his bizarre friend played by a fantastic Sandra Bernhard) are obsessed with a Johnny Carson-type late night comedy host named Jerry Langford (played by a deadly serious Jerry Lewis). After trying repeatedly (and failing) to get Langford to give him a shot at performing on his show, Pupkin concocts a devious scheme to force his way on -- which involves kidnapping the host.

Robert De Niro in The King of Comedy

This is all played out both for laughs and cringeworthy horror -- and it somehow works, I think because of the tone Scorsese uses. When Pupkin imagines himself having intimate lunches and conversations with Langford -- the scenes appear to really be happening (without the standard 'daydream' scene trickery) -- because, of course, they appear totally real in Pupkin's mind.

De Niro's madness in this film is of a different brand then the suppressed rage he showed in Taxi Driver or the flamboyant vengefulness of Cape Fear. Here, he is essentially a deeply delusional nerd, who seems harmless if albeit hopelessly annoying.

He's the kind of person who fantasizes about his high school principal apologizing to him on behalf of his schoolmates for under-estimating him. And when he's encouraged to work on his craft and actually earn a spot on the Langford show he balks.

Still there is something insidious about Rupert Pupkin. His act -- once you finally see it -- is horrible, and yet the audience eats it up. And today, while many of us look at reality television and think it's the lowest form of entertainment out there -- an enormous audience consumes it gleefully every day.

Towards the end of the film, Pupkin says "better to be king for a night than schmuck for a lifetime." The truth is he really believes it -- and so do so many Americans. Whether it be through a sex tape or competitive eating, there are these people out there who would rather be famous for a moment, regardless of why, than be a regular person.

The King of Comedy nails this tragic reality -- and while it may have seemed over-the-top at the time of its release -- it now seems uniquely rewarding and prescient.

Fame for the sake of fame has never been so popular.