20 From 75: My Favorite Films of 1975

In any professional sport, the chance of losing is just part of the nature of the game. But, in certain particular sports, there is the chance of losing more than that.
F'rinstance, in hockey, once players skate onto the rink, they also take the chance of losing some teeth. Meanwhile, in a sport like Rollerball, when a participant skates into the ring, he stands the chance of losing not just points and/or some teeth, but more importantly, his life.
But in a dystopian future fraught with overpopulation and disfranchised people, that's just all considered as part of the game.

The first French Connection is one of those movies that is often mentioned whenever the subject of classic cop movies of the 70's is bought up.
But you almost never hear about it's sequel, aptly named French Connection II (No "The" in this movie title), whether it be in discussion of cop flicks, or just in any kind of conversation whatsoever.
Maybe that's because, unlike it's predecessor, it's not a movie that helped to move or define the genre it belongs to.
Now, this isn't a criticism of the FC2. Because, on it's own, it stands as a pretty decent police thriller, as it follows Popeye Doyle across the ocean in pursuit of the drug-dealing frenchman who puts the "french" in the connection that this story is centered on.
It's just that, at it's best, what the film succeeds in is, for an hour and a half, the viewer is taken away on a ride-along of a cop caper that transcends international borders.
And compared to other films in this category, not that's not too bad.

Death Race 2000's premise is very similiar to anther movie that came out this same year, Rollerball. Both have to do with a sport that takes place in a dystopian future and in which the loss of the game could result in the ultimate loss, death. and bothsports, Roller Ball and the Death Race, are pasttimes that were invented just so the fans of each particular sport could satiate their thirst for blood.
However, I think that the theme worked better here in Death Race than it did in RB because, since this film was produced by Roger Corman, it didn't shy away as much from the violence and it's relationship with the kitsch of it's concept. Therefore, giving the gratuitous graphics more of a role than just it's gratuity in whatever slivers of a statement might be interpreted spewing out from it's tackily tricked-out torque.

By the mid-70's, the classic film noir had pretty much seen it's last case. The few that were still clinging to the big screen were now being updated with the modern flair of grittier, foul-mouthed dialogue and updated time periods (Robert Altman's The Long Goodbye, featuring the same gumshoe as in this film, is a good example).
However, directer Dick Richards and actor Robert Mitchum take a final stab at the genre with Farewell, My Lovely.
With Richards' serious and nostalgic approach to the script and Mitchum's comfortability with the role, ace detective Philip Marlowe wearily takes on a case with all the kind of standard ingredients (seedy underbelly locals, fedora wearing cronies, corrupt policemen and of course, a gorgeous femme Fatale) that make the mouths of hardcore connoiseurs of crime novels water.

Who woulda ever thought that there would be an entire movie centered around the idea of lather, rinse, and repeat.
But then again, this film came out back during a time before bottles of hair cleaning products required those types of simple how-to instructions.



Actually Shampoo is a story that tries to go deeper than just the scalp surface by taking the subject of the election of Richard M. Nixon into the White House, with the infamous ramifications of his term still on the horizon, and use it as a backdrop against the story of a south California hip hairstylist and his free-loving lifestyle of late 60's ultra-promiscuity. It's an allegorical theme that sometimes tends to comes off a bit heavy-handed (Robert Altman's "Nashville", another film from this year, does a better job of integrating a political metaphor with it's plot's premise), but considering how most other romantic comedies are usually so frizzled and overly blown dry, Shampoo's sharp script and satirical conditioning is just enough to keep it flowing, shiny and manageable.
And besides, how many other movies do you know of that allow for the use of so many bad hairstyling puns?

I was tempted in saying that, by now, everyone knows who Tommy is. But, at the risk of sounding like an old fogey, it does seem quite apparent that in this age of dwindling attention spans, when it comes to any music created before the new millennium, kids today wouldn't know a good rock song if it were to bite 'em on the blah blah blah.....
So, for the uninitiated, Tommy is a deaf, dumb and blind kid who sure plays a mean pin ball. If you're under the age of twenty, you may be asking "What the hell is a 'pin ball'?"
Pin ball is the coin-operated game that dominated arcades every where back before video entertainment took over the medium.
Now I can hear you yougins' asking "What the hell's an arcade?".
So y'know what? Forget it. It's too exhausting trying to explain this to all you ADD suffering, jeans down to your knees, little ingrate bastards.
So I'll just say that Tommy is an excellent example of an excellent rock opera album that was transformed into an excellent stage play musical that was eventually transformed into this excellent film.
Now you kids get the hell offa my lawn before I call the cops.

Stanley Kubrick is definitely one of my favorite directors of all time. Just about all of his works can be found listed somewhere within the top ten of many of my lists.
With the exception of this one.
Considered by many hardcore fans to be his best work, the truth is, since I'm not really big on movies that are predominated with powdered wigs and petticoats, I've seen only this one once. And one viewing is just not enough to determine what level of enjoyment and appreciation, if any, I would be able to pull from this kind of film. Especially when it is combined with the jagged expressionism that usually comes with Stanley's work. I had to watch Eyes Wide Shut a couple of times before I was able to fully rate it, and upon my initial viewing of A Clockwork Orange, I honestly didn't like it. After several more watches though, Clockwork eventually ended up becoming not just one of my fave flicks of the 70's, but my favorite of any of Stanley's movies.
So I'll have to sit down with Barry Lyndon a couple of more times, soak in the lush scenery, colorful costumes & the even more colorful Kubrick storytelling style before I determine whether or not this peculiarly prim and proper period piece is worthy of an entry further down this list.

 This entry focuses mostly the most famous tale of the trio, titled "Amelia".
And, to be honest, now as an adult, whenever I watch this segment in which a possesed Zuni voodoo doll chases the wide-mouthed Karen Black around the apartment, I can't help but giggle at the the low-budget cheesiness of it all.
 But as a kid, that plastic doll, with it tiny beady white eyes, lil' spear and endless row of saw-like teeth, scared the living sh#t out of me.
And frankly speaking, the ending shot of a demon-possessed Ms. Black crouched down and stabbing the floor with the large kitchen machete still has the ability to raise a hair or two off the back of my neck.

Generally speaking, life is hard for everyone. And that includes that of the private investigator.
Harry Moseby (played by Gene Hackman) is a gumshoe dick who, despite his dedication, finds his job to be more and more unrewarding. To top it off, he discovers that his marital life is messed up too, and tries to medicate himself by throwing himself into his work.
Realiziing that he can temporarily escape his troubled personal life by throwing himself into someone else's troubled personal life, Harry flies out to Florida to investigate a case.
But in this particular case, it soon becomes apparent that the deeper he delves, the bigger the black of hole of mystery becomes.
But I guess that's what comes from workin' on mysteries without any clues. That's what comes from workin' on his night moves.
And now that I've started to reference Bob Seger's song of the same name, I guess I should mention that as a result of the storm that rolled in the day before I made this post, I didn't get to sleep too well. Because "I woke last night to the sound off thunder....."

While I don't dislike them, I'm usually pretty indifferent to many of the Neil Simon plays that have been adapted into film. Alot of times, I think that the humor works better within the confined story structure of the theatre than to the more expansive universe that is created inside a movie.
That said, I think that the Sunshine Boys is one of the better screen adaptations of his works. Maybe it's because the whole story's premise is based on the idea of transferring entertainment from the old skool stage of vaudeville, onto the new skool screen of a television (via a TV special on the history of comedy). Whatever the reason, there is no denying George Burn's presence on this film. TSB was integral in kickstarting a resurgence of his career after a really long absence. Not only was George gone from the silver screen for 36 years, but once he started up again, this old geezer became the guy responsible for making God into a very successful film franchise.
And let's be honest here, any flick that can set up a biblical chain reaction of that variety has gotta get some kind of due props.

The epic adventures of two fast-talking swindling British soldiers as they travel to more "undistinguished" lands in hopes of making themselves a profit by presenting themselves as "prophets". After convincing the natives that they have been sent from the heavens to help them against their enemies, the duo would then proceed to training the local men in the arts of modern warfare techniques. After several skirmishes in which they lead the village to victory, one of them is made first a king and then a god. A state which he eventually buys into and threatens the sworn written bond between the two of them.
Michael Caine and Sean Connery create a blockbusting chemistry of two brothers-in-arms who find out the hard way the costly price that can come from putting a crown on one's head.

So far as I can tell, I think that, of all the lists I've made, this is the only movie I have whose story takes place on Valentines Day.
The year is 1900 and in the town of Woodland, down in Victoria, Australia, a group of hoity-toity young lasses from an all-girls private college set out on a picnic as a sort of field trip.
A few of the girls splinter off from the main group to explore Hanging Rock, the site of the picnic, and and all but one fail to return.
And so begins a mystery which to this day, is still a mystery.



Who would've thought that a film about a picnic on Valentine's Day set in the later years of the Victorian era would not end up being some kind of a romantic Austenian chick-flick? And speaking as a guy, that's gotta be a good thing.

When it comes to interspecies bonding, what's stronger than that of a boy and his dog? Easy.
A boy and his dog in an post-apocalyptic setting.
Because, as we all know, the radiation would mutate the boy and his dog in a manner in which they would be able communicate to each other telepathically.



So, with the power to read each other's minds, finding a way to survive the rigors of a nuclear wasteland, an underground (literally) movement of mime-faced procreationists, and a mutant race of "screamers", the friendship between a man and a man's best friend is put to the ultimate test.

The Condor is one of those exceptional rare bird-types that has been for several decades now, a high-ranking member on the most endangered species list. Due to it's low clutch size and to poaching, animal experts are unsure of just how much time the condor has left.



In this 1975 spy/conspiracy flick, Robert Redford plays a low-ranking "condor" of the C.I.A. who, due to clandestine cover-ups and political "poaching", is pretty sure how much time he has left.
And after reading that sentence, if you're still the least bit curious as to what that time-frame might be, you can either watch this early entry into the film genre known as "techno-thriller" to get the answer,
or
you can just simply re-read the title of this movie.

There's a presidential election going on, and the campaign trail is in top gear and full speed as it passes through the hub of the country music scene that is Nashville Tennessee.
This film represents Robert Altman doing what Robert Altman does best;
directing a movie with multiple storylines, all intertwining with a common theme. And in this case, one that in which the myriad situations of the various characters involved eventually come intersecting towards a final story climax.



Many critics have heralded this as the director's best work when it comes to this type of maze-like storytelling, but personally, I enjoyed two other of Altmen's movies better; his previous effort from five years earlier, M.A.S.H., and a film that will come out almost twenty years later, Short Cuts (one my fave flicks of the 1990's, as a matter of fact).
Still, that doesn't take away what he was able to do with Nashville, or the fact that this an excellent example of showcasing the kind of patchwork plotting and seamless juggling skillz that have become his claim to fame.

One of the things I liked most about the first half of the 70's was the way that this period of time seemed to be playing host to quite a few of thought-provoking science fiction fable type of films. I guess that with the accumulated camp that had built up with the still-then limited boundaries of special effects, sci-fi cinema needed to find another means to keep some kind of edge in their genre. With movies like THX-1138, A Boy And His Dog, A Clockwork Orange and Solaris,
that was a trend that would continue here with The Stepford Wives.



A picturesque community of pink houses with white picket fences & wives who all "properly" know their roles. A tale of the American Dream coming in the form of battery powered domestic bliss.

Acclaimed Japanese director Akira Kurosawa steps away from his own language to film a movie based off of the memoirs of a Russian explorer (and the circumstances of how Kurosawa was led to this project would make for an interesting movie in itself).
A troop of soldiers on a mission of expedition find themselves under the guide of a seemingly unintelligent old eccentric native.
However, as their journey of discovery soon becomes a journey of survival, they soon begin to realize that there's more to their aboriginal guide than meets the eye.
Told against the large snowy and scenic backdrops of the Siberian wilderness, Dersu Uzala is a grand tale of respect, growth, and deep friendship that develops between two people from opposite sides of the icy cold and massively continental eastern block.

I love LOVE this movie. The tension and disasterous desperation of Dog Day Afternoon begins and ends with Al Pacino's depiction of real-life bank-robber, John Wojtowicz (though John Cazale's contribution to this picture as partner-in-crime Sal Naturile is not to be scoffed at either). Watching Al's portrayal of the character trying to salvage the failed robbery attempt, you can just feel the downhill futility oozing out of Pacino's pores before the fatal end that it results in ever occurs (BTW, that's not a spoiler considering that this is a story based on actual events). For me, this is the real start of Al's explosive charisma that's he's become famous for, but before it evolved into the style of self-parody acting that it is now.

Okay, let's be honest here....



at some point in life,
we're ALL gonna need a bigger boat.

One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest tops off a list of movies wherein my favorite top three are all on this list specifically because of the performances of the lead actors in each film. Al Pacino is what made Dog Day Afternoon bark; the shark in Jaws bought the over-sized man-eating sea predator to life; and finally, in the number one spot, it was Jack Nicholson's performance that provided the strong sense of rebellious sanity that was needed to take on the ridged state of oppressiveness that ratchedly ran the loony bin.



Whenever I watch this movie, I'm always reminded that, for me, this is about as good as it gets (...sorry). Randall McMurphy is a mischievous criminal who first ends up becoming a leader of squirrelly rebellion and then, eventually, a friend to Billy and the rest the cracked eggs residing in the Cuckoo's Nest.
Jack's portrayal in this movie is determined not to follow the feel-good formula of a self-centered man with a salt-encrusted background who then becomes overly or angelically transformed. Instead, Randall is someone who is so deeply steeped in his own irresponsibility and with a hard to reach ability to care that is only gradually bought up to the surface by the only type of people who could cause such a subtle and internal catalyst in his dysfunction: a group of guys who are crazier than he is.