Only Antonioni could make a film about sexual compulsion seem so glamorous; it might have been called Sex and Architecture.
The Bellboy (Lewis)
Monsieur Lewis' directorial debut, comprised mostly of sight gags and slapstick purloined from the silent era, achieves postmodern complexity before the term existed.
This allegorical story of a boy who throws himself in front of moving vehicles in order to extort money from the drivers to support his family dismantles traditional Japanese culture and cinema with a nouvelle vague sensibility.
Dawn of the Dead (Romero)
As an eloquent metaphor for advanced capitalism, the second instalment of Romero's Dead trilogy is terrifying, hilarious and spookily prescient.
For anyone who's ever made a movie, this is the best film about film-making (or not film-making) ever made.
Fear Eats the Soul (Fassbinder)
A loose remake of Douglas Sirk's All That Heaven Allows, Fassbinder's uber-kitchen sink melodrama gets to the heart of our prejudices surrounding race, class and age.
The Gospel According to St. Matthew (Pasolini)
It's a neorealist masterpiece, of course (Pasolini's own mother plays the Virgin Mary), but only a Marxist homosexual atheist could make such a genuinely moving film about Christ.
The Killing of a Chinese Bookie (Cassavetes)
Probably the movie that most influenced the new generation of American independent film-makers, Bookie chews up Hollywood genres and spits out emotional truth.
Bergman's best film: spare, profound and glamorous.
"My Hermes pocketbook!!!"