Why first-time film viewings with friends are the best

Lorraine Bracco in Goodfellas

This past weekend I had the pleasure of watching two classic genre movies with people who had never seen them before. I watch This Is Spinal Tap with my future wife, Liz Rosado, and I watched Goodfellas with one of my best friends, Olivia Kestin.

Unlike some people who act appalled when someone hasn't seen some iconic movie, I relish the chance to introduce them to something special, because watching it with someone who has a fresh pair of eyes is often like experiencing it for the first time all over again.

It helps that both of these women are adept film connoisseurs -- who love to devour new things and generally approach movies with an open mind. Knowing how great both these films are I knew both ladies were in for a treat. Still, watching these movies with them made me reflect on some elements of the projects that I've either overlooked or taken for granted over the years.

This Is Spinal Tap

This note-perfect comedy doesn't waste a single moment and it remains my favorite mockumentary film of all time. Liz, as I suspected, loved it -- and here are a few things she made me think about:

The music is actually impressive: Yes, the songs are all jokes ("Sex Farm," "Big Bottom," etc.) but they are performed earnestly by the film's stars -- Christopher Guest, Harry Shearer and Michael McKean. The fact that they wrote the songs and played the music lends authenticity to the comedy.

The best moments are the awkward ones: Director Rob Reiner does a spectacular job of letting quiet little asides, and halting pauses play out for maximum comedic effect. Characters misspeak and dig themselves into verbal holes in a way that is both hilarious and utterly realistic.

Rob Reiner had an interesting career going their for a while: Speaking of Reiner, until he became bogged down making middle-aged rom coms, he was a very versatile director. Take this film and pair it with the unforgettable thriller Misery and you'd think you were dealing with a true virtuoso. I'm not sure why his career tapered off in the late '90s, but his work here is sublime.

Goodfellas

Olivia is a burgeoning film buff in her own right, and generally speaking our tastes align, so I fully expected her to like this film. Scorsese if my favorite director, and Goodfellas is arguably among his five best films, so clearly I was on board.

The violence of this film is still shocking: Even for a gangster film, Goodfellas is an aggressively gory piece of work, but always with a purpose which I appreciate. It always has been a visceral experience -- from its nostalgic opening to its cocaine-fueled finale. The movie is so adept at making organized crime seem appealing but also underlining how senseless, and deadly, it can be.

Ray Liotta's laugh: Like the movie it's both unsettling and oddly endearing. Ray Liotta's laugh is too distinct to not be natural and it erupts frequently in Goodfellas in moments that should not be the least bit comical, which is in-and-of-itself, funny. Goodfellas is a hilarious movie about a deadly serious subject matter.

Joe Pesci's performance is pure genius: I've written before about how much I adore Pesci's work as a character actor, and this movie may feature his greatest performance ever. He won the Oscar for his incredible portrayal of pure id -- this is a sociopath who is both scary and frighteningly charismatic. It's fascinating how, despite how vile his character is, his tragic fate always provokes sadness from audiences. This is both a tribute to Pesci and Scorsese as a filmmaker.

How I learned to stop worrying and admit I love '80s movies

Most modern film geeks are pretty slavish to the 1970s and to a lesser extent the 1990s when it comes to determining the greatest era for Hollywood films. Of course, some purist will say the 1930s or even the silent era.

Personally, I have always had a strong affinity for '70s era films. I have frequently called it my favorite period for movies. I like their brooding cynicism, their risks, their creativity. It's still on the whole my most cherished decade of cinema. And yet, after completing a self-imposed art project to create alternative posters for my all-time favorite films, I was surprised to see that more than half came from the 1980s.

Now, I should caution 'favorite' does not mean 'greatest.' These are movies that I could watch any time and love with the same intensity, films I can quote liberally and just bring me a lot of personal joy. They are not all Oscar-worthy, in fact quite a few were pretty much despised by critics, at least when they were initially released.

I was born in the '80s and have always been a pretty huge fan of the period's pop culture (if not its politics). But for whatever reason that decade's films have always gotten a bad wrap. It's somehow ok now to love '80s fashion and music without irony, but the films all seem to be piled into a Top Gun purgatory. What I mean is that the Reagan era has become more defined for birthing the behemoth blockbuster than for contributing a credible dose of quality films.

There is no disputing that contention. From E.T. to Batman, the '80s produced the modern event picture, for better or worse. And while the '90s had its fair share of that too, enough iconoclastic indie filmmakers made their mark (Tarantino especially) that its remembered as an edgier more eclectic time for the movies.

And yet the '80s produced Spike Lee, the Coen Brothers and Jim Jarmusch. The '80s was the decade when comedy icons Bill Murray, Chevy Chase, Eddie Murphy and Rodney Dangerfield did their best work. And it was a period when a lot of celebrated filmmakers like Scorsese and Spielberg took some real chances outside of their comfort zones.

The years 1980 and 1984 in particular produced a number of my favorites movies, these are years where there was clearly some holdover from the '70s aesthetic mixed with a flakier but also more fun sensibility which was a little bit less jaded but also sleeker and perhaps more clever.

Alex Cox's film Repo Man is a perfect example. It's both an uproarious satire of '80s consumerism and malaise but it tosses in a highly entertaining albeit absurd sci-fi subplot to boot. The soundtrack of early hardcore punk is a classic and its dialogue is full of existential excellence. It's not as sophisticated a film as something like Shampoo or The Conversation, but it has a junk food deliciousness to it.

It's not as easy a decade to pin down from a movie perspective and there was undeniably a lot of junk that muddies the conversation. The '80s birthed slasher movies, a lot of awful sex comedies (thanks to the success of Porkies) and a lot of action movies that are stunningly laughable.

But the '80s are growing on me. I was too young to see or appreciate most of the films when they were initially released. And yet, when I view them now I do get a nostalgic feelings and I find that they're movies I can just relax and have a good time with.

So long live the 1980s. And long live me, too. 

'Brian's Song': The top 10 movies that always make me cry

Brian's Song

I'm not a big crier in real life. It's not that I am some sort of unemotional robot, it just takes a lot for me to go full blown ugly cry. That said, films have a unique ability to produce waterworks from me --I think honestly because of swelling music scores. If I actually had a soundtrack of maudlin music playing in the background of my life I'd probably be sobbing on the regular, but alas that isn't an option for me.

I do however, believe in the healthy concept of a "good cry." Many times -- especially after a bad romantic break-up -- I have sought solace in films that I know will elicit a certain physical emotional reaction. I don't know why it's cathartic for me to cry, I'm not smart enough to explain that, but there is something very powerful about letting yourself be moved to tears.

Recently, I revisited the classic 1971 TV movie Brian's Song, which is sort of infamous for being the one film that breaks the heart of even the biggest jocks in the world. The story has the added virtue of being based on a true story and its running time is largely devoted to the comradarie between two opposites attract pro-athletes played exceptionally well by James Caan and Billy Dee Williams.

And then the hammer comes down -- the sudden terminal disease -- and the movie becomes a total weepfest. One of the things I really appreciate about this movie is that the illness really does come subtlety, there isn't that cliched scene when a character starts coughing and indicating to the audience that they're about to get really sick (even Straight Outta Compton makes this hackey mistake). The movie also takes time to set up the relationship between the Caan and Williams characters so the payoff is well-earned.

Watching this movie got me thinking about the other tearjerkers that always get me going. Here are the examples that immediately leap to mind:

Field of Dreams - I don't recall ever playing a game of catch with my father and yet there is something universally stirring about the climax of this whimsical fantasy where Kevin Costner's Iowa farmer is miraculously able to toss a baseball back and forth with a younger version of his own long-deceased father. It's a gorgeously rendered moment that always bring a tear to my eye.

Fruitvale Station - One of the most unjustly overlooked films of recent memory is an intimate and realistic portrayal of the last hours in the life of Oscar Grant, a young black man who was senselessly killed by an Oakland police officer on a subway platform. The film's central theme -- that all lives have value -- is made compelling by the performances, especially Michael B. Jordan's in the lead. When I saw it in theaters there wasn't a dry eye in the audience.

Up - The opening of this Pixar masterpiece is infamous for the impact its had on audiences. It's a silent nearly 6-minute montage that just floored me, perfectly capturing the arc of a relationship over several decades. I saw this one right after a break-up and found myself sobbing underneath my 3-D glasses. I am sure the children seated around me were appropriately uncomfortable.

Million Dollar Baby

Million Dollar Baby - I feel like this one really snuck up on most people. Audiences came in expecting a rousing female version of Rocky and left emotionally pulverized by a last act that takes a dramatic and tragic turn. Hillary Swank and Clint Eastwood make an incredible combo, with the latter giving perhaps the most vulnerable performance of his career. To this day, if I listen to the soundtrack on my iPod I get choked up.

The Shawshank Redemption - There's just something about Morgan Freeman's voice, it's both steely and sensitive at the same time. He works wonders in this prison drama, which ranks among his greatest roles. In its last act where (SPOILER ALERT, but seriously if you have cable television you have seen this movie by now) he is reunited with his best friend (played by Tim Robbins) always leaves a lump in my throat. It's the swelling music, the overhead shot -- an audience pleasing moment of perfection.

Kramer vs. Kramer - This Oscar winner really piles on the emotional weight. A superb Dustin Hoffman and Meryl Streep play a separated couple fighting over custody of their son. It's the young Justin Henry as the boy who really blows my mind. He manages to give a very mature performance without ever not seeming like a real kid. When Hoffman has to break some sad news to him late in the film I fall to pieces every time, even when I know it's coming.

Terms of Endearment - Often cited as The Godfather of tearjerker movies, this familial drama does pack a wallop, especially since it plays like a heartwarming comedy for most of its running time. Although they apparently despised each other in real life, Shirley MacLaine and Debra Winger are totally authentic as mother and daughter in this moving movie that took home best picture and was a box office blockbuster. Not as corny as its reputation suggests, trust me.

Antwone Fisher - Whenever I feel like I want to cry I watch this ultimately uplifting Denzel Washington-directed drama about a young seaman who plumbs the depths of his troubled childhood in order to become a more socially adept adult. Derek Luke gives an exceptional performance here (that sadly he never capitalized on) and the film is just full of emotionally gut-wrenching confrontations and moments and remarkably it was written by the person who the film is based on.

Four Little Girls - Spike Lee's devastating documentary about the four young women killed at the height of the civil rights movement in the bombing of a Birmingham church is probably the most powerful film of its kind I've ever seen. I literally remembering having to pause it to collect myself at one point. It's not manipulative in any way and unlike some of Lee's narrative films it's totally stripped of excess -- is just that compelling and sad a story.

Selma - This recent film about Dr. Martin Luther's King's historic voting rights campaign was wildly underrated and ridiculously overlooked by the Oscars. Director Ava DuVernay wisely does not spare us the ugly side of segregation or the emotional toll oppression took on activists and their families. Rarely does a movie move me both because of its brutality and its inspiration. Hopefully, it will find the audience it richly deserved now that the smoke has cleared over its so-called controversies.

'Straight Outta Compton' a powerful portrait of rap royalty

Straight Outta Compton

For a movie where one of the main protagonists dies of AIDS, Straight Outta Compton is a lot of fun.

Its first half in particular comes close to being a total dramatic masterpiece -- few films have captured the rebellious and politically astute nature of classic hip-hop better than this one.

And although the film has its fair share of unfortunate misogyny and musical biopic cliches, it is never less than riveting entertainment and truly deserving of all its unprecedented success at the box office.

The film features a trio of star making performances in the roles of Dr. Dre, Eazy E and Ice Cube, with the standout being O'Shea Jackson Jr., playing his own father -- Cube -- in uncanny, charismatic glory. If nothing else, I hope this blockbuster film provides a launching pad for their careers as leading men.

Like Dope before it, Straight Outta Compton brilliantly incorporates the current climate of racial tension over biased policing into its narrative. Naturally, the film was in production long before the upheaval in cities like Baltimore and Ferguson, but nevertheless the project does a remarkable job of making a story that takes place largely in the late '80s and early '90s feel totally relevant to modern audiences.

Also, as an African-American film lover, I'm heartened to see that the increasing segregation of movie audiences can still occasionally be neutralized. Here is a film with an overwhelmingly black cast and subject matter (although Paul Giamatti works wonders with his supporting role) that has clearly struck a chord with all audiences and become a bonafide phenomenon.

Is the film perfect? No, it starts to lose momentum towards the end when it tries to cover too many benchmarks in the careers of the protagonists, but it's definitely a step in the right direction.

I was also pleased to see that it was director by F. Gary Gray, a black filmmaker her first rose to prominence in the '90s making so-called black films like Friday with crossover appeal.

This is by far his most accomplished movie. It's a visual tour-de-force at times that totally captures the kinetic appeal of the hip-hop concert crowd and the raucous behind-the-scenes lifestyle of the performers. This is not always a pretty picture, but it rarely feels like a less-than-authentic one.

Hopefully, this film will inspire a new generation to rediscover NWA's compelling first album, but also to revisit the events of the Rodney King beating and subsequent acquittal of the LAPD officers who participated in it.

This historic moment is used very effectively in Straight Outta Compton and it's a searing reminder of why "gangsta rap" once provided an important voice and counterpoint to the mainstream.

'Spartacus' is a strange entry in the Stanley Kubrick canon

Kirk Douglas in Spartacus

Spartacus -- the story of a slave rebellion in Ancient Rome -- is one of Stanley Kubrick's most popular and successful films, and yet it's missing many of his trademark cinematic flourishes and the late great director all but disowned the movie after it came out in 1960, so it has an odd status among diehard fans of the filmmaker.

It's an undeniably entertaining movie, chockfull of rousing battle sequences, charismatic performances and gorgeous cinematography, but one can't help but wonder what kind of film it would have been if Kubrick had been give complete artistic control.

The reality is that his heart was probably never in the picture. It was a troubled project when he came on board, the original director -- Anthony Mann -- had been fired after clashing with its producer-star Kirk Douglas. The film was already a risky venture since it was unabashedly breaking the dreaded Hollywood blacklist by boldly crediting writer Dalton Trumbo for its screenplay.

Today, there are certainly elements of the film that are dated -- but I am also struck by its scope, ambition and willingness to sidestep a happy ending for a more historically accurate and downbeat one.

I have never been a big fan of so-called sword and sandal epics. Gladiator was never a touchstone for me and I find films like Ben-Hur unbearably bloated despite their strong points.

But Spartacus rises above its genre trappings thanks in part to its top-notch cast -- besides the physically impressive Douglas, there's Laurence Olivier chewing scenery with gusto, Charles Laughton giving a sly performance as Olivier's wily nemesis, Tony Curtis as Douglas' sidekick of sorts, Jean Simmons as the love interest and Peter Ustinov in an Oscar-winning turn as a greedy slave trader who ironically serves as the film's comic relief.

A little bit of Kubrick's savage wit comes across in the films portrayal of Rome's political machinations. The film almost plays like a precursor to Game of Thrones at times, with its backstabbing betrayals and sexual ambiguities. The film's handling of its more sappy elements is less convincing however. Kubrick was never a filmmaker with "heart" and the overtly emotional nature of Spartacus will likely be jarring for his fans.

Kubrick clashed a lot with Douglas on this film (they had worked together previously and gotten along well on the great World War I film Paths of Glory). This picture was something of a vanity project for Douglas -- but it paid off. It was an enormous success at the box office, and remains his most iconic role. And although Kubrick resented the project, it hastened his turn to seek greater independence.

Kubrick probably couldn't have made Lolita had Spartacus not established him as a bankable commodity. I would recommend checking out this film with the caveat that unlike most of Kubrick's career peak films, it feels old fashioned -- it's score is overwhelming and ubiquitous, it's padded with and Intermission and an Entr'acte -- it's long.

And yet its anti-slavery message, although occasionally delivered in a hokey and heavy-handed manner, is compelling and helps this film become more than a relic of a bygone Hollywood era.

Vacation viewing II: 'Untouchables', 'Raging Bull', 'Long Goodbye'

Raging Bull

Whew! What a trip! My first sojourn to Europe was a resounding success and now I'm back in my home-sweet-home in the Big Apple. But I revisited some classic movies along the way with my editor/fiancee Liz Rosado, and I'd be remiss if I didn't reflect on them.

After reading an extensive biography of Al Capone I've been eager to take another look at The Untouchables, a favorite gangster movie of mine from a director I have a ton of admiration for, Brian De Palma.

Hardcore De Palma fans like me often dismiss The Untouchables as the director's attempt to sell out with more commercial material. Upon closer inspection that contention is absurd.

Yes, the film was a hit -- and it is based on a very popular television series -- but it still has all the hallmarks of De Palma's cinema: vivid acting (particularly from Sean Connery and Robert De Niro), breathtaking visuals (the classic stroller shootout in slow mo) and lots of blood.

The Untouchables really holds up in part because De Palma injects the material with a lot of his signature sarcasm and the film remains a stark reminder that Kevin Costner was once one of the great leading men in American movies, seriously.

Next up was the Martin Scorsese masterpiece, Raging Bull. Although this film is often cited as the best film of the decade and perhaps Scorsese's best work, it took me a while to warm up to it.

I could always appreciate its craftsmanship but its relentless focus on a reprehensible protagonist alienated me at first. But after a couple viewings I started to appreciate how special this movie is and how utterly remarkable Robert De Niro's lead performance was.

De Niro's decision to gain weight to play boxer Jake LaMotta once he let himself go is the stuff of legend, but this is not a gimmicky performance at all. De Niro digs deep here and delivers a raw portrait of a deeply troubled man who could only express emotion through violence. It's a stunning film both from a visual and dramatic point of view.

Scorsese, who famously didn't want to do the project because he has no interest in boxing, winds up making one of the greatest (and most beautifully photographed) films of the genre ever made -- although the sports story really takes a backseat to the life outside the ring of LaMotta and his earnest younger brother, played beautifully by Joe Pecsi.

Pecsi, one of the great American character actors, is sorely missed from our cinemas. His work with Scorsese here, and in Goodfellas and Casino, is flawless and I'd love to see him get another chance to shine in a role worthy of his talents.

And then there was Robert Altman's criminally underseen film The Long Goodbye. Elliot Gould plays a flaky version of the iconic Raymond Chandler private eye Philip Marlowe. He's drawn into a murder mystery after performing a seemingly innocuous favor for a friend.

It's pretty hard to describe this gem since it thrives on being unpredictable and it veers pretty wildly from comedy to tragedy. I will say it's one of Altman's greatest films, up there with Nashville and MASH. Gould was his ideal lead -- his offbeat charm and inherent wit oozes off the screen, this may be his greatest role.

If you can surrender to the movie's unconventional pace, you will get to experience its shocking pay-off, which Altman forced the studio to commit to keeping in his contract.

Vacation viewing part I: 'Barry Lyndon', 'Easy Money' and 'This Is It'

Ryan O'Neal and Marisa Berenson in Barry Lyndon

If you follow me on social media you probably know by now that I have been painting the ye olde town of Europe low these last several days.

But that hasn't stopped your intrepid frustrated wannabe film critic from consuming mass quantities of movies during my downtime.

Cough, cough. You're welcome.

My gorgeous editor Liz Rosado and I have been traversing France and Holland -- taking in all the tourist attractions and gorging ourselves with local food -- all hail crepes and stroopwafels. But I digress.

On our plane flight in and during our evening rest-our-feet portion of the day, we've been watching movies I've brought along on DVD. Here are the highlights:

Barry Lyndon (1975) - Liz recently came to the conclusion that although none of his films would necessarily make her all time top 10, that Stanley Kubrick may be her favorite movie director.

Pleased, I suggested we should check out his sumptuous but challenging period film. Probably the most overlooked work of Kubrick's classic era (from Dr. Strangelove to Eyes Wide Shut), this film definitely takes it time and can be too detached for a lot of viewers -- yet like most Kubrick movies I like it more every time I see it.

It's more epic than just the story of a relentless social climber, it has this timeless resonance -- and something pretty profound to say about how human beings react to slights and hold lifelong grudges, and most importantly perhaps, how our chickens come home to roost inevitably.

The film was also the culmination of years of research into an aborted Napoleon project that might have starred Jack Nicholson. Although it's a shame Hollywood deprived us of that would-be masterpiece, it's incredible how much Barry Lyndon stands out thanks to its incredible detailed decor, costuming and overall aesthetic. For example, real candles light certain scenes giving them a real immediacy that has never been matched in any other period drama.

Easy Money (1983) - It's probably hard to believe now but there was a time when the late, great Rodney Dangerfield was a bonafide movie star who had vehicles built around him.

Nowadays I can't imagine how a one-liner spouting comic in his early 60s could be such a crossover draw, but Dangefield had this incredible ability to connect that made him a once in a lifetime event. Only Larry David is comparable in terms of playing lovable louts whose bawdiness is endearing to audiences.

Caddyshack and Back to School are better films than this one, but I just love watching Rodney be Rodney, cracking wise and navigating a totally convoluted plot (which kicks in very late) where he must give up all his vices in order to win a sizable inheritance.

It's the kind of movie Adam Sandler would make now but devoid of laughs. Dangerfield instead always conveyed a lot of heart behind his antics, which is why he really worked as an unconventional movie star. Also Joe Pesci is invaluable as his sidekick.

Michael Jackson's This Is It (2009) - This stunning concert documentary still generates a lot of controversy. Was it just an obscene money grab? Was that really Jackson we always were watching on screen? Who knows...

What I do know is this: this film is a breathtaking tribute to the King of Pop's boundless talent and charm, which were clearly intact right up until the moment he died. This incredibly candid look at his creative process is wildly entertaining and deeply moving.

Both this film and Spike Lee's wonderful documentary Bad25 had me in tears -- because you really walk away from each movie with a sense of how tragic the loss of this iconic performer truly was.

Michael Jackson in This Is It

If you can get past the heavily criticized opening where dancers gush over getting signed to perform on Jackson's ill-fated This Is It tour (which the movie documents), you're in for some unforgettable footage of mind-blowing dance moves, powerful singing and unparalleled eccentricity.

This Is It (and also Bad25) succeed in part because they don't sidestep the fact that Jackson could be and was quite weird, and clearly sometimes his perfectionism can come off as childish and entitled, but the end result almost always justifies his means.

We'll never know if the King of Pop could have pulled off those 50 concerts he had scheduled but the movie does an effective job of making us wish we could have found out.

'The Gift' is a treat for people who like thrillers for adults

As the new Fantastic Four has arrived in theaters with a thud, a little thriller that could, The Gift, has performed surprisingly well with critics and moviegoers.

It's a little sad that I am shocked to see a film with no gore, no big third act action sequence and no special effects can still captivate audiences in 2015, but alas this is the state of the industry at this time.

The Gift, which was written and directed by one of its stars Joel Edgerton, could have been a by-the-numbers creepy stalker movie, the kind we've seen a million times before. But thanks to some terrific casting, some well-timed twists and a smart ear for dialogue and pacing -- its so much more.

The trailers, while creepy and effective, don't exactly convey the depth of this movie and I think audiences that give it a chance will have some pretty interesting discussions about human nature after its over.

That said, it's also a fun popcorn thriller too, so never fear. I just appreciate a thriller at this stage of my life that can still make me jump but also has me actually unsure of where it's going from one scene to another.

Jason Bateman

I can't give enough credit to Edgerton, who I had previously viewed as an interesting, up-and-coming actor (Warrior, Animal Kingdom) but here he shows that he has a very sure hand as a director and a writer. I'd be really interested to see what he does next.

In The Gift he does an expert job of establishing fist-clenching tension by his use of silences and agonizing shots of empty hallways and exposed windows. The very chatty audience I saw the movie with was on the edge of their seat throughout and one particular moment definitely popped up in a nightmare afterwards for me.

But this isn't just a series of jump scares. This is also an acting tour de force, especially for Jason Bateman.

Bateman is brilliant in this movie. He is ingeniously cast because he's built up so much audience good will as the amiable and exasperated straight man in so many mainstream comedies (and of course, Arrested Development) that you can't help liking his character and giving him the benefit of doubt. But as the film progresses the darkness that has always lurked under the surface of his heroic characters starts to creep through and it is a revelation.

I don't want to spoil the surprises of this film, but I will say that his arc is the most compelling in many ways although Rebecca Hall is very sympathetic as his wife and Edgerton does a great job of not overplaying creepy. His character is weird, no doubt, but he's not so over the top that you feel like he's some sort of otherworldly boogeyman.

The best thing about The Gift is that it doesn't condescend to its audience and it sustains its admittedly heightened premise throughout. Some audiences expecting cheap shocks may be disappointed by that but I for one was relieved that the film didn't devolve into a bunch of action movie cliches.

Every once a while little movies like this (it was only budgeted at $5 million) pop up in the late summer schedule and either are forgotten or become cult classics later. I hope The Gift continues to draw in paying customers because in a very hit or miss summer, it's one of the best movies of the season.

'Bill & Ted' and the best time travel movies of all time

Recently, I revisited a movie I really loved as a child -- Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure, and I was charmed by how indelibly silly and simplistic it was.

Back in the 80s there were a slew of movies where adults were either invisible or ignorant and fantasy films were earnest instead of self-consciously clever.

It's just a fun movie -- and although it probably could have more fun with the time travel concept than it does, it's a worthy concept nevertheless.

Still, it got me thinking about the best time travel movies.

There haven't been enough in my estimation to call it a full blown genre, and yet there have been some really terrific ones.

As tempting as time travel is as a plot device I think filmmakers generally avoid it because it always ends up defying logic and directors don't want an audience spending more time trying to debunk their movie instead of enjoying it.

That said, here are a few movies that I think get the complicated elements just right (in chronological order).

The Terminator (1984) - The best of the Schwarzenegger as killer robot films remains the first one, which eschews sentimentality for relentless action and a straightforward premise. In the future humans are fighting a war against their machine overlords. The machines send a killer back in time to execute the leader of the resistance's mother before he is born. The latter sequels would completely upend the timeline and alienate fans. But the first one does a perfect job of establishing the stakes and letting the mayhem play out.

Groundhog Day

Back to the Future (1985) - An incredibly novel concept -- a character accidentally goes back in time, disrupts the first meeting of his future parents, and must get them together or he will cease to exist. Director Robert Zemeckis has a lot of fun with the complications that ensue -- the lead character's mother takes a romantic shine to him -- but he also keeps the pace moving. One of the great blockbusters of its era is hilarious and original.

Back to the Future Part II (1989) - A very daring sequel that not only ups the ante on the time travel, but adds a layer of darkness. The bad guy -- Biff -- gets hold of an Almanac featuring sports scores and makes himself a fortune over several decades. This chain of events leads to some really bad developments from Marty McFly and his family. Oh, and there are hoverboards.

Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991) - An action classic to be sure, somewhat hamstrung by some unfortunate bits where director James Cameron tries to make Schwarzenegger's machine all cute and cuddly. Still, the film's premise holds up. Two terminators are sent back from the future to seek out future rebel John Connor, one to protect him, the other to kill him. Some of the best sustained chases and fights of all time, but the time travel element gives the movie a real charge.

Groundhog Day (1992) - Although this beloved comedy isn't a traditional time travel movie, I couldn't not include it. It does deal with the space-time continuum. Bill Murray's weatherman Phil Connors keeps waking up on the same day in the same place. I love that the film never explains why and that Murray's character simply grows to embrace his plight and only then does he get freed from his existential prison. A movie that only seems to grow in stature with each passing year.

Bruce Willis in Twelve Monkeys

12 Monkeys (1995) - Terry Gilliam puts his unique visual stamp on this somber but suspenseful mystery film starring an against type Bruce Willis. Very little is explained upfront, we're simply plunged into a chaotic story where a seemingly innocuous animal rights group may be behind a conspiracy that will eventually doom the planet. There's enough ideas in the film for four movies (which is perhaps why the film has inspired a TV show) and a Brad Pitt performance that's weirder than anything he's done before or since.

Star Trek (2009) - This reboot of the franchise doesn't advertise itself as a time travel movie, but it totally is. Although Trek purists may have balked at J.J. Abrams elaborate explanation for why the original William Shatner-Leonard Nimoy universe could co-exist with his own, he undeniably reinvigorated a classic sci-fi series that was moribund before he took the reigns. This bright, gleaming spectacle was one of the best blockbusters of its era and just a great time at the movies.

Hot Tub Time Machine (2010) - One of the great surprises of that year, a raucous and silly comedy that was unpretentious fun. Rob Corddry steals the movie as a horndog eager to capitalize on a trip back to 1980s hedonism. Meanwhile, John Cusack basically plays an homage to every character he played in the 80s. One of my favorite bits? The bad guy simply stating "America" right before a fight. In an era where so many R-rated comedies missed the mark, this one hits a bulls-eye.

Midnight In Paris (2011) - Woody Allen scored his biggest crossover hit ever with this whimsical movie about a frustrated writer (Owen Wilson) who is magically whisked away to the Jazz age era Paris of his dreams at the stroke of midnight. The gimmick works because Allen doesn't waste time trying to explain it or portray the transition with special effects. Instead these indelible characters from  the past (Dali, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, etc.) just appear and come to life.

Looper (2012) - Bruce Willis is back again in this surprisingly moving mind bender which presents a very interesting concept -- assassins who travel through time in a visually inventive way. Joseph Gordon Levitt is credible as a young Willis dispatched to take out his future self, and Jeff Daniels steals scenes as the villain. Although this film did decent business I've always been shocked it wasn't a bigger hit at the box office. The action and acting are both top notch.

Safety Not Guaranteed (2012) - The first film from the director of the mega-blockbuster Jurassic World is one of the sweetest and most endearing romantic comedies I've seen in years Aubrey Plaza plays a snarky reporter who replies to an ad in the paper placed by an eccentric guy who claims he has the ability to time travel. She ends up falling for him and hilarity ensues. The finale of this movie, which I won't spoil, is genuinely heartwarming and surprising.

Edge of Tomorrow (2014) - Tom Cruise gets to show his considerably appealing lighter side in this underrated sci-fi thriller which plays almost as if Groundhog Day were an action movie. His character keeps dying and then coming back to life with new knowledge about how to defeat some souped-up CGI baddies. It doesn't sound very good, but trust me it is. And Cruise delivers one of his more nuanced performances here, he's a wimp who becomes a hero over the course of the movie.

Taking a trip with the 'National Lampoon's Vacation' films

Chevy Chase as Clark Griswold

The reboot of the National Lampoon's Vacation movies has arrived with a thud in theaters and I'm not all that surprised.

Although they've never gotten the critical kudos they deserve, the original three films (I am choosing to ignore the abysmal Vegas Vacation) had a certain comedy magic which isn't all that easy to emulate.

The 1980s films starring Chevy Chase had real edge but also sincere moments too -- a delicate balance that worked because the films tapped into universal experiences while upping the comic ante.

I like Ed Helms and the early trailers for the new film looked good, but the more I've read about it (I no longer intend to see it) the more I've come to understand that it really missed the mark. Like too many modern R-rated comedies it puts an emphasis on crudeness instead of genuine laughs.

The original and best Vacation film was R-rated too, but it also was consistently hilarious in no small part because of the real thought that director Harold Ramis and Chase imbued into the project. Clark Griswold wasn't just some moron -- he was earnest to an extreme. And there are few comic vignettes in cinema more pleasurable than his character's inevitable meltdowns in the face of calamity.

National Lampoon's Vacation (1983) - A bonafide comedy classic. It's got great pacing and keeps the laughs coming from unexpected places -- the dog getting dragged behind the car, Christie Brinkley providing temptation on the road, the fate of Aunt Edna and of course, the infamous visit to Cousin Eddie's. Chase and Beverly D'Angelo have great chemistry as husband and wife and the kids here are standouts too, especially a young Anthony Michael Hall as the precocious Rusty (who is supposed to grow up to become Helms in the new film). This "quest for fun" really is a delight and the journey to the fictional Wally World really pays off in the end.

National Lampoon's European Vacation (1985) - The weakest of the original films is still really enjoyable, albeit a lot sillier. This film puts a priority on the physical gags -- which isn't necessarily a bad thing since this is one of Chase's specialties. The setting is used for a variety of visual and verbal puns, the best being a running gag where the Griswolds keep accidentally maiming the same innocent British man, played by my favorite member of Monty Python, Eric Idle. Is knocking over Stonehenge highbrow humor? No. But it still brings a smile to my face.

National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (1989) - The most heartwarming of the Vacation films and the one with the most staying power thanks to its repeated showings around the holidays. This actually may be my favorite Christmas movie of all time because of the classic crazy bits mixed with its genuinely sincere spirit. Randy Quaid's Cousin Eddie almost steals the whole movie -- his byplay with Chase is comedic perfection. I also love the yuppie next door neighbors, one of whom is played by a young Julia Louis-Dreyfus. Although there is no actual trip in this film, the movie truly captures the madness of families during the season.

And finally, a word on reboots. They can't and won't stop coming. There are plans to remake my favorite Chase movie, Fletch, potentially with Jason Sudekis (a much better choice than the once-rumored Zack Braff) and we've all heard plenty about an upcoming all-female Ghostbusters. Hollywood has been doing this for a hundred years -- and yet, it seems like almost everything now is a sequel or a reboot or a remake.

Ideally, the films the industry chooses to update would be projects that could really be improved upon in some way, but naturally producers want more of a sure thing -- and making something based on something audiences already like is a guaranteed way to sell some tickets.

I just hope that in the future filmmakers realize they need more than a brand name to make their movies stand the test of time.

'Listen to Me Marlon' documentary showcases Brando at his best

Marlon Brando

If you're a huge Marlon Brando fan like me, or someone who's simply curious about what the fuss over him is all about -- then I strongly recommend you check out the moving and fascinating new documentary film about his life, Listen to Me Marlon.

The film wisely eschews the usually documentary tics. It features no talking heads, just audio from tapes Brando recorded (For himself? For posterity? It's never revealed) over several decades.

Through interviews, found footage, movie clips and more -- we see a new side of a man who spent his entire public life trying to keep it private.

Yet instead of feeling like a salacious expose, Listen to Me Marlon is illuminating.

This film is a tribute to his incomparable talent, his demons, his passions, his inquisitive nature. You walk away from this film -- or at least I did -- convinced that Brando truly was genius at the art of acting and a charismatic, though deeply wounded character in his real life.

I've always felt that Brando is unjustly maligned for having contempt for his craft and for largely phoning it in as a performer after 1979. While he is a deeply flawed and at times maddening person, he was also an emotional, sensitive and clearly bright man.

Listen to Me Marlon dedicates a chunk of its running time to not just Brando's films, but his underrated political activism (he was a confidant of both Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Black Panthers, as well as tireless advocate for American Indians) and his relationship to his parents and children.

In reality, Brando only gave a handful of truly masterful performances, but he threw himself into his work so fully that it understandable that he couldn't sustain that kind of artistic perfection for so long. The many great actors that have come in his wake, like Pacino and De Niro for instance, have had their fair share of paycheck roles too.

This powerful film made me want to rediscover Brando's brilliance all over again. Here are my thoughts on his most indispensable film work:

A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) - I'll never forget the effect this film had on my 10th grade English class. Although the Tennessee Williams play was powerful, the movie really knocked the socks of me and my classmates. Has there ever been a more vivacious, sexual performance from a man in a movie? The girls in my class wanted to be with Brando and the guys wanted to be him. The fact that he was a misogynist pig who presumably rapes the heroine was sort of lost on us then. The role of Stanley Kowalski haunted Brando, he was always troubled by the thought that people conflated him with the character. He was that good in the role.

On the Waterfront (1954) - Although Brando's performance and "I coulda been a contender" speech from this film have been oft-imitated over the years, its power hasn't been diluted. Brando brought an ahead-of-its-time realism and honesty to the role of Terry Malloy, a none-too-bright boxer caught between dock workers and the brutal union boss who terrorizes them. Brando has so many memorable moments here, both subtle and histrionic. His improvised acting choice to pick up Eva Marie Saint's glove and put in on his own hand speaks volumes.

The Young Lions (1958) - Not as well known, but one of Brando's most interesting works before he became box office poison. He is one of three leads in this World War II film (although he never has scenes with co-stars Dean Martin and Montgomery Clift). He plays a somewhat aloof Nazi who comes to realize the nature of who he has aligned himself with far too late. Brando was able to find the humanity in characters who might otherwise be discarded on the scrap heap of history. His bitter realizations in this film are transcendent.

The Chase (1966) - Brando is the standout in a stellar cast which includes a young Robert Redford and Jane Fonda, as an embattled southern sheriff who struggles to remain humane in a community steeped in corruption and repugnant racism. He does so much in this film with just a look and a physical gesture. A bleak film that was in many ways ahead of its time, talky to be sure, but with one of Brando's most intriguing roles in an otherwise weak decade for the actor.

The Godfather (1972) - After a long hiatus and a series of forgettable films, Brando returned with a bang with the role he is probably best known for. It's an incredible kabuki performance. I remember be astonished as a child to learn that Brando was only in his late 40s when he played the part of an aging, wounded mafia don. I also was stunned to learn he wasn't even Italian. He totally immerses himself in a role that is so iconic that virtually every parody and image of a mob chief now is mirrored after him. This film sparked one of the greatest comebacks in Hollywood history.

Last Tango In Paris (1973) - Brando delivers not just his best performance in this autobiographical, profoundly dark film -- but he gives, in my opinion, one of the best performances of all time. He was never more raw and exposed in a film, literally and figuratively, as Paul -- a grieving widow retreating to sex to salve his emotional wounds. It's a heartbreaking, and at times, hard to watch piece of acting, but it you go in with an open mind the rewards of this masterwork are self evident. The film's sexual politics may be problematic for modern audiences, but its star is a wonder.

Apocalypse Now (1979) - The filming of Brando's pivotal role of Col. Kurtz in Francis Coppola's Vietnam epic was infamously contentious. Brando disliked the script and turned up on set overweight and unmotivated. And yet somehow they made lemonade out of the lemons. Although he has limited screen time, Brando is a remarkable, haunting presence in the movie. He has several of Apocalypse Now's most memorable lines and he puts the controlled chaos of the film in a unique perspective that only an actor of his stature can give.